Chapter Twelve - EMMA
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMMA
IVAN STAYED WITH me in my apartment for three days, making sure that I ate, took a bath, and held me whenever I cried. He acted like a good boyfriend— even a good husband—should in a highly charged and emotional situation.
He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m not entirely sure he would even want to be.
Ivan is older than me, and with his blue eyes, chiseled jaw covered in trim stubble, and well-built body, this man could have any girl he wanted.
He probably does. Men like him don’t look twice at a girl like me.
I’m five-foot-three, curvy, and vocal with my opinions. I’m nobody special.
Ivan had a business meeting this morning, so he left a little while ago—but not before making sure I was fed, dressed, and out of bed. This morning, I need to visit the funeral home and finalize things with Gran’s funeral.
“Well, no time like the present,” I say out loud to myself, getting up from the kitchen table and taking my empty coffee cup to the sink. I grab my purse and coat, then head for the door.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Yuri who stands directly across the hallway from my door.
“Keeping an eye on you,” he tells me. His accent is a little bit thicker than Ivan’s.
“Ivan is making you do this, isn’t he?”
“He’s the boss. He tells me to keep an eye on you, so that’s what I do.” Yuri doesn’t seem to have the greatest of a sense of humor.
“Whatever you say.” He turns to follow me down the stairs and out the door of the building. “Why are you following me?” I ask him as soon as I step onto the sidewalk.
“Boss’s orders,” Yuri replies simply.
“Look, Yuri,” I say as I turn to him, “I get that you have boss’s orders, but I don’t need you to follow me. I don’t want you to follow me. I don’t want you to keep an eye on me. There are better uses of your time.”
“Not according to the boss,” Yuri says dryly. I roll my eyes.
“I am running errands today, and I don’t need you tagging along. I’ll probably be gone until lunch, so you can go do something else.”
“No can do, Ms. Murphy.”
“Seriously, Yuri! I’m going, and you’re not following!
” I huff at him and then turn and walk towards the bus stop at the corner.
The bus I need is pulling up to the stop when I get there, so I step directly onto the bus and take an empty seat next to a window.
I wave at Yuri and flash him a snarky smile as the bus pulls away from the curb.
It’s a quiet ride on the bus, and then a short walk to the funeral home where Gran’s been for the past five days.
I feel a little more stressed than I thought I would be.
This morning’s appointment with the funeral director is to finalize everything according to Gran’s last wishes, and work out a payment plan.
“Good morning, Ms. Murphy,” the funeral director greets me when I walk in the door. I think it’s interesting that the funeral director is a woman. In my experience, funeral directors have always been men. “Please accept our condolences for your loss.”
“Good morning, ma’am,” I reply as I shake her hand. “Thank you.”
“Let’s step into the office and go over a few things,” she says as she directs me down a short hallway and to her office. She offers me a cup of coffee before sitting down.
“Mrs. Murphy requested a cremation,” the director begins as she opens Gran’s file on her desk. “She also selected her urn and a few other things that were needed.”
“What about her services?” I ask.
“It looks like your gran did not request a funeral or memorial service to be conducted,” she says, looking at a second sheet of paper in Gran’s file.
“That makes sense. Gran didn’t have any other family but me, and Grandad was cremated when he passed away years ago.”
“Is there anything else you wish to add to her arrangements?”
“I don’t think so. If Gran made these choices, then I want to respect that.”
“Very good, Ms. Murphy.” The funeral director closes the file and folds her hands together on top.
“What are the next steps?” I ask her.
“Your gran is being prepared for cremation. The cremation is expected to be completed today, and her ashes will be ready for you to pick up either tomorrow or the day after. We will give you a call when they are ready,” she explains.
“Okay. What about payment? You haven’t told me how much this is all going to cost.”
“All costs have been covered for your grandmother’s arrangements.”
“They have? That’s doesn’t make any sense. You told me that nothing had been paid for yet.” I’m confused at this bit of information. I thought I would be paying for everything out of her estate.
“You’re correct. When we previously spoke, there were funds owed towards your Gran’s arrangements.” The director returns to Gran’s file to look for the invoice. “A Mr. Ivan Kiselyov provided full and complete payment yesterday, so nothing more is owed to us at this time.”
I sit back in my chair, stunned. Why would Ivan pay for Gran’s arrangements? I’ll be having words with him about it the next time I see him.
“I see. Well, thank you very much,” I stand and shake the director’s hand. “I’m very appreciative.”
“It’s my honor to be of service to you during this time,” she says. “I’ll walk you out.”
I check the bus schedule when I leave the funeral home, and map out a route that will get me to the Boston Public Library branch on Boylston Street. I just want to go somewhere that is quiet for a little while and isn’t my apartment.
The wait for the bus isn’t long. I think Yuri may have listened to me when I told him earlier that I didn’t need anyone to keep an eye on me, because I don’t see him anywhere nearby.
Maybe he hasn’t figured out where I went…
or maybe he’s hiding so I can’t see him.
I settle into my seat on the bus and put my headphones in while I stare out the window.
I get off the bus ten minutes later and walk the half a block to the library.
When I was little, I used to visit the local library two or three times a month with my mom.
There was always something interesting going on, and I loved being surrounded by all the books.
I read a lot when I was little, and that hasn’t changed now that I’ve grown up.
If I’m not streaming a favorite show on my laptop, then I’ve got my nose stuck in a book.
This month, there’s a special event happening at this particular library branch, which is why I’m here today. After, I’ll probably check out a few books and take them home to enjoy.
I spend the next two hours walking through the library’s special exhibit, looking at the artifacts and reading every single information card available.
I spend another half an hour looking for books to check out, and I end up with five books across several recommended reading lists.
I try to read a little bit of everything, but I definitely have my favorite genres that I enjoy.
When I exit the library after tucking my books into my bag, I realize that I’m only three blocks away from Boston Public Garden. It’s a nice day, so I grab a cup of coffee from a street vendor and walk towards the park.
Public Garden is a beautiful place in the spring.
The trees are starting to bud with new leaves, and flowers are starting to bloom.
Birds have returned to the area, and I’m excited to see the ducks when they make it back to Boston.
They already left for the season when I first moved here, so this will be my first spring to be able to enjoy them.
I find myself an empty bench along one of the park’s paths, and sit down to just enjoy the scenery while drinking my coffee.
The Public Garden is peaceful. It’s a place for fun, but also for reflection, and I’m finding myself being very reflective today.
Why would Ivan spend three days in my apartment taking care of me?
Why would Ivan pay for Gran’s final arrangements?
Why am I thinking so much about Ivan?
Does Ivan think of me, too?
I chuckle to myself when I think of what Gran would probably say about all of this.
She’d sit here and tell me that people come into our lives when we least expect it, but also when we need them the most. She’d tell me the story of how she met Grandad while taking a walk in Public Garden, and thought he was the handsomest man she’d ever met.
He walked her home to make sure she got there safely, and six weeks later, they married.
Fifty-five years later, Grandad passed away, and I don’t think Gran ever recovered.
I pull out one of my library books and decide to read a chapter or two. I’m enjoying the outdoors on this spring day, and am in no hurry to return to my apartment. I’ve also got nowhere else to be today, as Boris gave me another week off with pay.
Before I know it, another hour has passed and I hear my stomach growling. I put my book back into my bag and throw my empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can. A small breeze kicks up, and suddenly I get feeling that I’m being watched.
It better not be Yuri. I told him I didn’t want someone watching me, and I meant it.
I start walking towards the nearest bus station on Boylston Street and put a earbud in so I can listen to music.
When I’m out walking like this, I only like to put one earbud in so I’m still able to hear what’s going on around me.
I can’t seem to shake the feeling of being watched and followed. I look around the area, but can’t see anything that seems suspicious. I’m almost to the bus stop when I see the next bus coming up Boylston Street.
Before I can blink, two men come up beside me and grab my arms. I try to resist and fight them off, but it’s no use.
“Make a scene, and this will not end well for you,” one of the men hisses me.
“Who are you?” I ask, panic evident in my voice.
“Nobody you need to know,” the other man growled. I try to twist to look at his face, but I’m unable to due to the second man pressing a concealed weapon into my back.
Very quickly, a black SUV pulls up to the sidewalk, and the backdoor opens.
Suddenly, I’m shoved inside and onto the back seat.
I land a little hard on the seat while crashing head first into the arm of a third man sitting on the far side of the car.
He looks at me like I’m a bug he’d squash under his boot.
Someone gets in behind me and I’m now wedged between these two men who take up most of the room in the backseat with just their muscled upper bodies.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as terror starts to replace the panic I was just feeling.
“Your presence is requested elsewhere,” said a man in the front seat.
“Where?” I ask again.
“If you’re lucky, you’ll find out when we get there,”
“What is that supposed to mean?” My question goes unanswered, but I keep repeating it anyway with no response.
A million thoughts start running through my head, and they do nothing to help me stay calm. Maybe Ivan was right. Maybe somebody really is after me.
Ivan is on my mind as I’m driven further out of Boston, with no knowledge of where I’ll end up or what will happen when I get there.