Epilogue
BABUSHKA
There was nothing quite like a wedding in the backyard.
It smelled of grass and flowers smashed together in the heat, and people pretending to be surprised when everyone already knew a wedding had been brewing with those two idiots.
Honestly, I had money on it six months ago. Not with real bookies.
No, no. I am not an idiot.
But little psychic bets, I make with myself. One learned to do that in nine decades of being five steps ahead of people who think they are clever.
The vodka in champagne was a delicious decision.
The champagne dry, not sweet because I am not a child. I hide my smirk behind the glass.
It is a good smirk, too.
Had minor legendary status back in Saint Petersburg.
If the younger ones had seen it, they'd have known I was up to something. But I have mastered the old-lady look. That serene, possibly-senile sparkle that made people say, "Oh, she doesn't know what's going on."
I always know what is going on.
Across the yard, Zach and Piper are exchanging stupid and sweet vows. They hold back tears like it is a war effort.
Victory or nothing.
Someone blew their nose loud behind me. Maybe Cousin Irina?
Dramatic, that one. I taught her that when she was seven.
Still have it.
With the wedding finished, thank God, we can finally eat.
"Nadzieja," Morty said my name and sat in the chair next to me like we were on speaking terms.
"I am not talking to you." I gave him a proper huff, nose in the air.
"I know." He folded his hands on his lap like a little schoolboy. "But we had a deal. And it's time for you to stop threatening me and start talking to me."
I shook my head. "No. I don't vant to talk. Deals change."
"You're telling me that you don't love me?"
I pursed my lips together. Old lips do not lie about love.
"That's what I thought." His eyes sparkled and his bald head glimmered. "Our deal is not dead, my darling. And I am tired of running from you."
I made this deal with him when I had been certain I would be dead before all of my grandchildren found love. Zachary was holding out, bless his heart.
"Now." Morty pulled out little glasses that made him dashing. Blast him. "You agreed that when all of your grandchildren were married off, you'd marry me."
"Married and happy. I said they must be married and happy." Which, they were. Curses.
He reached for my hand, and, dammit, the old fool I am, I allowed it.
"If you don't want to marry me, then we won't. But I want that. I want you to be mine. Only mine. For whatever time we have left," he said.
"Okay, fine." Why spend my life alone? “Ve elope tonight."
"You don't believe in eloping," Morty said, bushy eyebrows raised high as the hairline he didn't have anymore.
"I don't believe in a lot of things that I do anyvay," I said. "Rules are like bread. You need to stretch them vhen they need stretching."
"I love you, my Nadzieja," Morty said with his stupid smile I loved so much.
"I know," I said, slyly. "It is mutual."
Tess came closer to us, smelling like fancy hair product. She was scanning the guests like she was looking for someone with a bazooka hidden under their blazer.
"Are you searching for the next disaster?" I asked.
She didn't yet know that I was the next disaster, and the solution. Always both.
"You can speak around Morty." I waved my hand to my fiancé. "He doesn't listen anyvay."
"I was worried our plan wouldn't work out," Tess said, glancing to Zach and Piper canoodling near the dance floor.
"Hold on. Stop." Anna hissed. She was too close; she was onto us.
Did she hear about my vedding? I hope not.
Her eyes sliced toward the bride and groom. "You did this?"
"Of course," I said.
"How much of it?" Anna demanded.
Morty chuckled because he was no fool. I would not marry a fool.
I tilted my head. "Darling, I started it."
"She did," Tess said. "I just helped her out. When you announced you were getting married so quickly and the Stallions wanted to run with the opportunity, Babushka reached out to me."
"Reached out to you?" Anna asked.
"She asked if I'd help find Zach someone to love."
"Aw, you do care." Morty grinned like a lunatic. "I knew you cared for me."
Our gazes locked, promising more than just a marriage. We would be happy, too.
"Perfect place to find love is in vedding," I said.
"Honestly, he and Piper made it easy. First meeting. Bam. The two of them were already hot to trot," Tess said.
Anna's eyes narrowed as she stared at me. "You manipulated this whole thing?"
I scoffed and jerked my thumb toward Tess. "No. I outsourced. I vas on cruise."
And it had been a glorious cruise, by the way. I'd meditated with llamas in Peru.
Yes, there were llamas. Yes, it was Peru. No further questions, please.
I waited a beat, savoring the moment.
Anna scrunched her face like she was solving algebra. Finally, I leaned in and whispered, "Don't think too hard. Tch. So vhat, I vent to Tess. She did a good job."
I grinned, stretching it out, all teeth. "I say to Tess, 'You find her. You make them fall in love. Quietly. No one interferes. I trust you.'"
And I had. Dvochka had taken my strategy and stuck the landing like a Soviet gymnast. Perfect.
"What does she have on you?" Anna asked Tess.
"No one needs to know that," I assured.
Morty laughed again. He knows these things.
Then I turned toward the married couple and clapped once, sharp. The couple was sealing the deal again with their good skin and strong bones. Good. I liked it when the people I meddled with became attractive together. It validated.
Anna was pacing beside me now. "Tess really knew this was a setup. She was in on it?"
"It vas not setup. It vas matchmaking espionage. Sophisticated. Romantic."
"Babushka," Anna said, deadpan.
I held up two fingers like I was swearing in at a trial and declared, "Vorth it. Now I vill die happy."
"But you're not really going to die, right?" Tess asked, one hand hovering as if she might have to catch me mid-faint.
"Vhen you love like I have in this life, you never really die, do you now?" I said, full of mystery and legacy. The type of line one should engrave on a bench or a vodka bottle.
Tess was undeterred. "But seriously, you're healthy?"
"That's vhat I say. I never die. You don't listen," I said with a pfft.
Anna leaned over, reassuring. "She's fine."
"Healthy as a strong Russian horse," I promised, flexing slightly. "Like Piper and Artyom."
Artyom had been the family's horse when I was young. He who kicked fences and lived mostly on fermented beets.
Inspiration came in all forms.
The kids who got married laughed.
Anna and Tess looked at me now with new respect and borderline fear.
Good.
For decades, I had played quiet.
A little mysterious. Always there.
Who was Babushka? Just the old lady knitting strange patterns that strangely resembled people's worst secrets?
I listened. I waited. I catalogued. Everyone came to me eventually, even the ones who thought they were too modern for tradition.
Truth was that family could become too noisy.
Everyone had an opinion.
And when my sweet, overthinking, soup-spilling grandson, Zachary, was finally ready and just on the cusp of having a crisis about dying alone? I didn't panic. I didn't knit him some sad blanket of solitude for his couch.
No.
I handled it.
Then I started with tradition. Booked a room on a boat to ask Morskoi of the sea to bring Zachary love. Was there a casino and a buffet? Yes.
But that's not why I did it. Just extra benefits.
And I met Tess. Peggy's granddaughter.
Tess had the eyes. Not simple "I love dogs" eyes.
She had curious eyes. Eyes that noticed what wasn't said.
I watched her—always on the edge, listening. Smart girl. Not afraid of Babushka.
Not yet, anyway.
I had offered her a proposition. "Help me find someone for my grandson. Make it natural. You're clever. You can make it seem like accident."
In return I gave her… well that is between us, yes?
Tess had looked at me like I'd asked her to rob a bank. But after two shots of cranberry vodka (the weak kind, for Americans), she'd said, "Okay, but I'm not guaranteeing anything."
"Yes, you are," I had replied.
"Excuse me?"
"Vhat?"
"Did you—"
"I said vatermelon is good in August."
Language was flexible.
And now look. Backyard. Vows. Flowers everywhere. Guests weeping.
I took a long sip of my champagne as Zachary dipped Piper for a dramatic kiss. They nearly fell.
Excellent. Must keep them humble.
Later, people would toast.
People would ask, "How did this happen?" and "How did fate know?" and "Didn't Zach have a weird thing with that doctor lady?"
And I would sit, perfectly composed, and tell them: "Love finds a way."
My gaze trailed to Morty. Love does find a way. But only if Babushka gives it a little push, da?
They wouldn't even know where to start asking follow-up questions. Which was, of course, the point.
I stood and went over to squeeze Piper's hand. Piper looked at me like she wanted to cry and laugh and maybe throttle me just once, for balance.
"You did good," I whispered.
Piper exhaled. "I have a question."
"Yes?"
"Did you lock us in the AV room that day on the terrace of The Falcon?"
I made sure to look affronted. "No."
Piper stared at me for a deliciously long second.
"I had Tess do it." I grinned. "Throw you all off of my trail."
A pause.
"You're an absolute maniac," Piper said.
"Yes," I said proudly. "But now you are family. So… too late."