Chapter 63
One month later…
Preston
"Alright. So, give me one of your world-famous lowdowns on who I'll be meeting today."
Vadim flicks the turn signal, and the SUV veers right. "World-famous? Hardly," he scoffs, a playfulness bleeding through his voice despite himself.
"Don't sell yourself short, mister. Your descriptions are the best. My new favorite thing."
A rare bright spot as my eyesight has deteriorated even more.
The last of my central vision went two weeks ago.
What remains is barely worth calling sight—peripheral shadows, changes in light, the occasional shape that my brain tries to fill in from memory more than from anything I'm actually seeing.
Dr. Moloney warned me the final stage could move fast, but even knowing it was coming and expecting it hasn't made the transition any easier.
One thing that has?
Vadim's awesome narrations.
Who would've guessed that a guy who could barely hold up his end of a conversation when we first met is now the same guy offering funny, vivid, and unique ways of making me feel comfortable and situated, wherever we go, whatever we do, whoever we're surrounded by?
His voice drops all low and serious—I call it his cheesy news anchor voice—as he talks me through every room, every space, every person.
And, yes, I did say funny.
Vadim actually does have a good sense of humor. It's just dry. Like the Nevada desert.
Like when he took me out to dinner at a fancy Italian place a few weeks back. We're going into the restaurant. It's busy tonight. Our table is straight ahead about twenty steps, and everyone in here is staring me down for walking in with the hottest date.
Or letting me know when someone is coming toward me. Ellie is approaching on your left, stank face on. Oh, wait. That's aimed at me. You should be fine.
Or navigating some of the recent changes he, we, have been making to his apartment. The contractors are almost done laying the tactile flooring strips. Contractor ass crack tally for the day stands at four. I'll update you the moment that changes.
But my favorite would have to be our newest morning ritual, me sipping on my chamomile and lemon tea and him describing what he's wearing or what he looks like.
I've gone wild today. All-black outfit with, wait for it, rainbow suspenders.
Or, Do you think I could pull off bangs?
Or what he said this morning, I'm thinking about getting a nose job to smooth out the bump, but I'm afraid it'll mess too much with my tough-guy image. What do you think?
See? Funny.
And I'm not just saying that because I'm madly in love with him. Although…I am madly in love with him.
Like, all the so-called 'relationships' I had in the past? Pfft. None of them even come close to what Vadim and I have.
And, yes, it started in the most random way ever. And, yes, we're a completely unlikely pairing. And, yes, the timing is less than ideal.
But life is like a seesaw, and sometimes the worst things in life get balanced out by the best things.
This is one of those times.
I've lost my sight, and I lost my dad, but while all that was going on, I found my person.
"What would you like to know?" Vadim asks.
"Uh, everything. I'm meeting your dad, stepmom, nieces and nephews, and younger brother for the first time. Fill me in on what to expect."
It's Marek's birthday today, so the entire family is gathering at his father's compound for a big family celebration. It's my first chance to meet the entire Piotrowski clan, so, yeah, it's kind of a biggie.
"Let's see." We speed up, so I'm guessing we're on the freeway now. "I'll start with my father. How would I describe him? Hmm. Do you know who Jean Claude Van Damme is?"
I think about it for a second. "Is he the guy from those Volvo ads years back?"
Vadim chuckles. "Yeah. But before he did those, he used to be a big action movie star. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger or Sylvester Stallone."
"Okay. What about him?"
"He's my father's favorite movie star. He models himself on him, down to the steroids and everything."
"Your dad takes steroids?" I squeak, unable to contain my surprise.
"Oh, yeah. He's totally open about it, too. Steroids, peptides, cold exposure, light therapy, and a bunch of shit not yet approved for human use, like SAR-something or other. Oh, and he's had more plastic surgery than Iza, his wife."
"Wait a minute." I tilt my head. "Are you messing with me? Because now is not the time."
"I'm not messing with you. I promise. That's him looks-wise. Personality-wise…" Vadim clears his throat, and I picture him making the serious face he does whenever he's deep in thought about something, slight frown disrupting his otherwise smooth forehead, gray eyes locked in a super intense stare.
"He's got the same ability Marek has to flick on the charismatic switch and charm the pants off you. But, like with Marek, that's actually his way of keeping people at arm's length."
"What's he like underneath that?"
After a pause, "Cold. Distant. Strict."
"Homophobic?" I hedge.
"I'm not sure. Outwardly, no. I doubt Iza would let him get away with any stupid shit like that.
She's amazing, by the way. No evil stepmom narrative here.
She's a former Ukrainian beauty queen turned human rights lawyer with an insane IQ, a wicked sense of humor, oh, and massive breasts.
Only mentioning them so that when she hugs you, and she will because she's a hugger, you don't mistakenly think she's wearing a flotation device. "
I let out a laugh. "You're funny."
"That's what I've been saying all along. Took you long enough to realize."
My whole body fills with so much love for this man. Tough guy on the outside, marshmallow just for me underneath.
"I love you so much," I tell him. "You know that, right?"
I don't care that it's the fourth, or maybe even the fifth, time I've said it today and it's not even noon. It feels good saying it so I'm gonna say it.
His hand lands on my thigh. "Right back at ya, mój kochany."
We fall into a comfortable silence.
I turn to face the window. It's a sunny day today, so the light coming through is strong, giving me a bit more than I usually get.
Pale land. Bright sky. The landscape flattening out as we leave the city behind.
The occasional dark interruption of a tree or a structure passing and gone before I can figure out what it was.
The sun is on my right, which orients me. Another thing, along with sound and temperature and the feel of surfaces, that I notice a lot more now.
"What have you told your dad about us?" I ask, since Vadim hasn't been super forthcoming on that front.
"Nothing."
"Oh."
"Not in a bad way. I just haven't spoken to him about anything other than the W?adek and Farkas situation.
That's normal for us, by the way. He'll ask me a personal question once or twice a year, max, at either Thanksgiving or Christmas, always one or the other, never both, and then maybe one more time on my name day. "
"Name day?"
"It's a Polish thing," he explains. "Think of it like a second birthday.
In Poland, every name has a day assigned to it on the calendar.
Friends and family give you gifts. When I was growing up, Mom made more of my name day than my birthday.
She said birthdays marked your arrival, and name days marked your character, who you are. "
He lets out a sigh.
Bet it's about how much he misses his mom. I can relate. I miss Dad so much, and even though people say it gets easier in time, and in some ways, I'm sure it does, I don't think the pain and the loss ever truly go away. I still think about him every day.
"Soooo, how are you feeling about your dad finding out about us?"
"I'm sure Marek has given him a subtle heads-up to prepare him in advance."
"Is that okay with you?"
"It is. Why? Are you thinking it's overstepping?"
"Slightly."
"I get that. But for me, it's a sign he cares. And I don't get many of those from my brother."
I can relate to that as well.
After Dad died, I went on a deep dive with Ellie, trying to find Shannon online. We came up with nothing. It's like he's disappeared off the face of the earth. I try my best not to think about that too often…not really succeeding on that front.
"When I was showering this morning," Vadim continues. "For a brief moment, I had a mini panic attack about how he'd react, what he might say. But as quickly as it came, it went. And do you want to know why?"
"Of course."
"Because I'm not just coming out as gay.
He's meeting the love of my life. He can think whatever he likes about homosexuality, and I'll be honest, I do care a bit about that because there is a part of me that wants his ever-elusive approval.
But what he thinks about you? Or us? Even if he's opposed to it with every fiber of his being, I don't give a shit. "
Vadim's voice firms. "He doesn't feel what I feel in my heart, this enormous, all-consuming love I have for you.
If he has an issue with it, then that only proves to me he's the one with the problem.
I get to live my life with you, Pres. I've already won.
And no one can take that away from me or tarnish it in any way…
Hey, hey, hey…" His hand is back on my leg. "What's wrong?"
I swipe my cheeks.
"Happy tears," I assure him. "Smart, kind, strong, funny, and handsome. God. I really hit the jackpot with you. How did I get so lucky?"
"Ummm… My cock is personally offended at being excluded."
I snort out a thoroughly embarrassing mix of tears and snot. "Stop it."
He squeezes my thigh.
"Make me." His voice is back to normal now. "We're about ten minutes from the house. Any more questions?"
"Yes. Marek's kids. What can I expect? Are they well-behaved or spoiled, entitled brats?"
"They're actually really great and super-well adjusted, which is surprising given they have the same genes as Marek and his ex-wife, Agnieszka, who—" A sharp breath leaves him. "Don't even get me started on her. But the kids are great. Lukasz is the oldest. I've told you about him."
"I remember. He was getting bullied at school."
"Yeah. That's been dealt with for now, but I'm still worried about him. He's a sensitive kid, and my gut tells me he's going to be part of the LGBTQIA family when he's older. When I describe him to you, and if he's in earshot, I'm going to make a super big deal about what he's wearing, okay?"
I smile, loving this protective uncle side of Vadim.
"Of course. Anything to make him feel special."
"Thanks, Pres. And the twins are great, too. Absolutely darlings. Two little princesses that have already got Marek wrapped around their little fingers. Klara is a bit shy at first, but Mila is loud and a total tomboy."
"Got it. That covers just about everyone except…"
"My younger brother," Vadim finishes for me as his breathing gets louder.
With my vision almost entirely gone, my hearing has kicked in, and I'm finding I can gain insight into what Vadim is thinking or feeling by listening to his breathing patterns, how they change, deepen or shorten, or become more audible.
"That's a tough situation," he says, like he's considering his words carefully.
I figured as much.
For however supposedly not close Vadim thinks he is with Marek, he talks about him a fair bunch.
But Kamil? I think we've discussed him twice in the whole time we've known each other.
"He doesn't have the same charisma chip Marek and my father do."
"So what I'm hearing is I'm going to have to pull out all the stops to get him to like me?"
"What I'm saying is even if you do all that and work your Preston magic to its fullest, you still won't get much out of him other than the absolute bare minimum. So don't take anything he says or does, or doesn't say and doesn't do, personally, okay? He's just come back from fighting…"
I'm about to jump in and ask 'fighting where?' but then I remember there's a war raging in Europe and manage to catch myself in time.
"But even before that, he's always been…angry. And distant with me and Marek. The only reason he'll be there is because Iza is his mom. And there is absolutely no love lost between him and my father. He may not like Marek or myself, but he positively hates our father."
"Is there a story there?"
"I'm sure there is." I hear the turn signal. "But whatever it is, I'm not privy to it. Neither is Marek, apparently."
"Okay. Well, thanks for the heads-up."
"Always. I'm going to be right by your side the whole time, Pres. You don't have to worry about a thing. And if it ever gets too much for you or you've had enough, just tell me, and we can leave."
I smile, appreciating his support and assurance, even if it is overkill.
I've been dying to meet his family for ages. I'm not even that nervous, which is slightly unusual since normally, I would be. But I guess these aren't normal times, and the plus side of going through hard shit is that it helps put into perspective what's worth stressing over and what isn’t.
I would love to get along with Vadim's family, and I hope that they like me, but based on what he's just said, I'm about to enter a complex family dynamic that involves a lot of moving parts and complicated histories.
At the end of the day, there's only one Piotrowski's love I care about, only one that matters.
As we slow down, I reach for the dark glasses sitting in my lap. They help with light sensitivity, and they come with the added bonus of explaining my situation to people without having to actually get into it.
"Okay, we're at the front gate," Vadim tells me. "It's not as ostentatious as you might be thinking it is. Simple wrought iron gates. No crest or flourish."
"No royal guards standing by either side?"
"No." Vadim chuckles. "They got rid of them after the pandemic. Seemed a bit tone deaf." Then he adds, "You may not believe this, but apart from the size of the place, it's actually pretty low-key."
"I highly doubt that," I say as we come to a stop. "But I can't wait to meet your family and have you take me to your old bedroom."
"Deal," Vadim says as the car comes to a stop.
Whatever happens, I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting afternoon.