The End of Something

I was exhilarated by the sight of her. It had nothing to do with her beauty. It was the feeling of peace that I had. It was the same sense of relief that you would get sailing into a safe familiar harbor after battling a ferocious storm at sea.

I was stress-free for the first time in almost two years. It was like the missing part had clicked into place and I was whole again. More importantly - I wasn't experiencing the empty sense of futility that had dogged me all the time we were apart. In fact, when I peered into my psyche I honestly didn't have a smidgen of latent anger, distrust, or jealousy.

I hear you ask - Why?

Well... In essence the moving pen of time had written a new chapter. And I was not the same person. I underwent huge culture shock in the overnight leap from happily married academic, to solitary nerd. Especially because I was suddenly living in a totally different society. So, I had to evolve to survive.

Almost two years later my concept of reality was so far removed from my life in DC that it was like I had never lived it. And as a result I spent long periods in the darkest times of the night wrestling with who I had become.

So, my perspective on life in general - and Sasha in particular - was as fresh and untainted as it would have been if she was a total stranger - which in effect she was.

Then it hit me. Sasha had no doubt done her own evolving. When we met and married we were both college kids, without a lot of experience in life. And we grew together as we got older.

I hesitate to add the phrase "and wiser." We WERE where we were, weren't we?

But if Sasha had changed as much as I had over the past two years she was NOT going to be the person I left crying in that room. In fact, there was no predicting who I might be talking to as I walked the short distance up St. Giles to the Randolph.

My guess was that she had finally brought me the divorce papers. It just seemed so much like Sasha to want to deliver them in person - not mail them to me like a vindictive bitch. It was who she was.

Actually - I was surprised that she had taken this long. A person as beautiful, socially adept and sexually desirable as Sasha wouldn't last long in the meat market of the DC social scene.

I had accepted THAT truth a long time ago. I knew that she would eventually find somebody. And honestly - as I walked into the Randolph I wasn't especially upset about the denouement of our marriage. In fact it was almost a relief to have her finally drop the other shoe.

As I came in off the Beaumont Street entrance I saw her sitting in the restaurant adjoining Reception. Rather than being nervous she looked graceful and composed. She had on a pale grey, flowered print, Laura Ashley silk dress. It set off those huge feline eyes of hers. She rose to greet me as I bustled in. I probably looked as conflicted and disorganized as I felt.

I held her two hands in mine and just studied her. I was surprised. All I saw was love and a little bit of wonderment. I was not looking into the eyes of a woman who was in a hurry to get a disagreeable chore out of the way. I thought to myself, "Well - we had a great life together so of course she probably still loves me a little bit."

I sat. It was her meeting. She had initiated it. So we would talk when she was ready. She offered me the obligatory tea and scones from the service in front of her. I told her I had just eaten. For the first time she looked a little anxious. And then you could see her steel herself and she started in.

She said, "I know you told me to not bother you. But there is something that you absolutely have to know. I am sorry that it took so long for me to tell you this. But it has been a difficult time since you left. I think you will understand in a minute."

She picked up her phone and dialed a number. She said, "He's here." And then she turned to me and poured me a cup of tea. As she handed it to me she said, "You are really going to want this."

I know that the English think that a good cup of tea solves every problem. But I didn't understand why I needed one at that particular moment. I knew what was coming and I was prepared to accept that our marriage was over.

I was waiting for the tall, dark and handsome stranger to appear so that the happy couple could announce their impending nuptials. It was my choice to leave and I was at peace with that decision.

At that point her mother appeared. And reality tilted. Sasha's family live in Hawaii. What was her mother doing here? I thought it was a little classless of her to invite her mother to the formal serving of the papers. And where was the future husband?

Then I noticed that her mother was carrying a bundle. She stopped, standing next to the table. Then she turned and presented the most beautiful creature on God's green earth.

Sasha said, "Jake - I want you to meet your daughter."

There is a moment in everybody's life when eternal truth is revealed. This was mine. I lost all sense of myself in those merry, intelligent, stunning ice blue eyes.

I might have loved her mother but this was a different love entirely. And I knew in that instant that this gorgeous little creature was the everlasting center of my universe. I sat there staring at her with total and absolute awe.

Sasha started the responsible adult pitch, "I know what you're thinking. She's been tested and she is yours. The DNA evidence is right here." And she produced a document from her purse.

My inner voice laughed and sneered, "Documentation!!??? I don't need no stinkin' documentation!!" This dazzling little creature and I were already communicating. I KNEW she was my daughter. And I knew that I would gladly walk through the fires of Hell for her.

Interlude: Sasha's Story

It took me almost a month to stop acting embarrassing in public. At work, the crying jags kept me in my office. And for the same reason I never went out socially.

But I was beginning to accept my new reality. I was alone. And I was in that situation due to my own stupid actions.

Nevertheless, guilt is a two-edged sword. It causes pain. But, if you are tough minded that pain also has a redemptive quality. I was aware of the fact that my crimes had caused the agony that both Jake and I were going through. But there is a form of salvation in owning your failures. The resulting guilt was burning the arrogance out of my soul.

I am smarter than most people and I really thought I could have it both ways. I now know that was pure hubris on my part. And like all mortals who overreach - I deserved the death of my hopes. Now it was a matter of taking responsibility for my misdeeds and failures. And then using that acceptance as motivation for living a better life going forward.

I knew that I COULD do better. But being able to forgive yourself isn't something that just automatically happens. I had to work hard to get a newer and better understanding of who I was in order to become the person I wanted to be.

My aim was to move one step closer to wisdom every day,

As soon as the word got out that my husband had left me I was besieged by offers of male accompaniment. And I even accepted a few dates. Since hiding in my flannel jammies eating gallons of ice cream was not a viable long-term solution.

I knew that I had to get out there and start rebuilding my life. But I could never stop comparing those men to Jake. And mourning what I had lost.

In that respect, my dates were nothing more than evenings with another person. Every single one of those guys expected to get laid. What they got was a kiss on the cheek and a "thank you" as I closed the door.

I had a long way to go before I recovered my self-respect and I did not want any distractions or side-trips along the way. The last thing I wanted to do was to listen to some lesser man's line of bullshit while I was thinking about my lost love.

It might be too late now. But I was finally totally in control of my treacherous libido. It took the tragic cratering of my marriage to get THAT beast permanently in its cage. But it was comforting to know that it was locked away behind iron bars forged by personal remorse.

And I knew in my heart that I was finally the person I had wanted to become. That made me feel better about myself. And my feelings of increased self-respect and personal well-being were making me stronger every day.

Needless to say the number of invitations dropped precipitously once the word started circulating that I didn't put-out. But it didn't matter to me because I was dealing with a new reality.

Life indeed has a bitter sense of irony. I am one of those women who is not exactly regular. But like ALL women I have a window when I am inevitably thinking about my monthly visit. And that window came and went. I waited another few weeks before I visited the doctor. But I already knew. And it horrified me.

I have never been a very optimistic person. I am Russian on both sides and I think it is just a Slav thing. Basically, I am one of those people who expects the worst possible consequence for any sin that I have committed. I had stepped over the line. And my guilt convinced me that I would NOW be sentenced to bearing a worthless man's child. The thought just overwhelmed me.

I suppose everybody has a time when something so appallingly terrible makes death preferable. This was my moment. I love children and I know that I would be a great mother. The thought of raising a child by myself was actually attractive. It would give me somebody to love without reservation. It would give me a part of Jake and fill the aching void that his departure had left.

But the thought of perpetuating Thomas O'Leary's spawn was so personally repulsive that I would have happily killed myself to prevent it. Jake and I had plenty of sex during the time that the child inside me was conceived. But because of my crime I just knew that this would be my ultimate sentence. I was in a panic. So I called the one person who has always been my rock - besides Jake of course.

My mother is from the old country. She grew up through the height of the Soviet era and she is as tough and pragmatic as any former citizen of the USSR. She came to America as a dancer on one of the Bolshoi tours in the early 1970s and met and married my father. He was one of their translators. His family had been here since the 1920s. But since they were all part of the White Russian community they only married among themselves. And that is why I am as Russian as the steppes.

Mother is in her early sixties and she has always been my inspiration. She is still beautiful as only older Russian women can be, she still has the hard body of a trained ballerina, and she has a profound Slavic wisdom that is built around enduring.

It was 12:00 in DC but it was only 7:00 AM on Oahu. My dad finished thirty years of active service in naval intelligence. And my mom and he retired in Honolulu. She answered on the second ring. She was alert and cheerful. I said four words, "Mamachka I need you!!"

She read the panic in my voice and said with both kindness and strength in her voice, "What is wrong my Lapushka?"

I said, "I don't want to explain it over the phone. Can you please come visit and I will tell you everything. I know that this is out of the blue. But I have never needed my mother more."

She was sitting in my living room exactly twenty-four hours later. I told her the entire horrible story. I held nothing back. I made no attempt at self-justification. She didn't judge. She was raised in a much more worldly culture. And she has been gorgeous her entire life. So she has a profound understanding of the pitfalls and temptations that women like us face.

She said, "How do you know for sure that you are carrying the Mu'dak's child?" In forty years I have never heard my mother swear - in English. But her vocabulary of Russian swear words is astonishingly varied and expressive - and indicative of a part of her life that I never want to know about.

I said, "I don't know for sure mother. Jake could be the father. But I just feel like it has to be the Zadnitsa's to complete my degradation."

She said, "When can you be tested to find out for sure."

I said, "I am in my 12th week right now. The doctor said that they can perform the test no sooner than the 15th. I am not sure that I can hold myself together that long."

My mother picked up her phone and dialed. She said in a voice that carried slightly more presumed authority than Joseph Stalin, "Hello Ilya. I will be staying here with Sasha for the foreseeable future. Yes it is important. No, there is nothing you can do to help. Yes, of course. I love you too."

She turned to me looking resolute and said, "So now we wait."

I would never have made it through the next month without this stalwart woman by my side. Her calm and steadfast presence kept me functioning. I even started sleeping a little better knowing that she was in the next room.

I nearly lost it the night before the test. The stakes were just too overwhelmingly high. But she held me while I cried and spoke soothing words to me in Russian. I didn't understand half of what she was saying but I DID recognize that it was her way of invoking the lasting power and courage of the Slavic woman.

And when the test results came back two weeks later I couldn't open them. The letter just lay there on the table like a coiled rattler.

Finally, my mother said, "You are being a fool Lapushka!!" Then she snatched up the letter, carefully studied it, and turned to me with sheer joy on her face.

I didn't need for her to say a word. I collapsed weeping in her arms.

She was a girl and she was Jake's.

The pregnancy had its moments of morning sickness, and general unpleasantness. But feeling Jakes daughter growing in my belly was the most sublime experience of my life. I would have loved to share it with him. But I understood why that couldn't happen. And I accepted my responsibility in causing it.

However, my mother was a close alternative. She helped me through the difficult moments and she would talk for hours to little Katerina as she developed. The entire conversation was conducted in Russian - naturally. And my little Kat would kick like crazy as my mother told her about how happy and loved she was going to be once she made her appearance. The spirit of that remarkable woman would absolutely guarantee that.

I spent a lot of time agonizing over whether to tell Jake that I was pregnant. He obviously deserved to know and I longed to have him by my side. But at the same time I understood why he was absent and why he wanted to be away from me. And I was afraid that he would see the baby as a cheap stunt to get him back.

I talked with my mother. She argued that he would want to share the birth with me. But I convinced her that he was so hurt and angry that he would probably not want to see me in this lifetime. And we both agreed that the last thing we wanted him to think was that I was trying to bind him to me with a baby. So we both decided that we would bring little Katerina to him as soon as she was ready to travel.

I am in perfect shape. That's thanks to the Bolshoi regimen that my mother put me on in my early girlhood. Both of us worked the barre together until I left home. And since then I have never stopped doing what she taught me.

The female form that resulted from all of that hard work made childbearing easy. It was agonizing for both Katerina and me. But my powerful legs and my big sturdy butt muscles moved her down the birth canal as comfortably and efficiently as possible.

Then the most perfect little creature in the universe emerged and was crying softly on my chest.

My mother is a stoic. She has endured unimaginable hardships without showing such un-Soviet weakness as emotion. But she wept openly as they put Katerina in her arms.

I had the passing thought, "Daddy is going to hate the DC weather. But he had better get used to it since she is clearly not leaving this little girl."

And there are no words to express how much I loved my daughter. The sleepless nights and the diapers were a joy. My life was completely taken up with caring for her. And I have never been happier. I went back to work after the first three months. And history's most devoted Babushka took over while I was away.

It was as close as I had been to happiness since Jake left.

When Kat was ten months old we decided that it was time for Jake to meet her. I wanted to do it face-to-face for a lot of reasons. Obviously, it just seemed right to present his child to him in person. And I wanted to be there to lay to rest any latent concerns about her parentage.

I also wanted to be able to get the discussion about his parental rights started. I loved the man. I had no desire to be hurtful. I made enough money that I had no need for child support. And there was no question about his ability to see her whenever he wanted to.

Most importantly - I wanted to explain to him that since we were still married we would work it out together. There would be no legal entanglements whatsoever - unless he wanted to divorce me.

I felt a little guilty that it had taken so long to bring Katerina into Jake's life. But it was not like I was withholding her. Travel is strenuous and she needed time to develop. And Jake probably wouldn't have enjoyed the first few months anyhow.

Mother and I were a little concerned about transporting such a young child all the way to Oxford. But Katarina is an amazingly even tempered and cheerful little girl and in the end she seemed to hold up better than we did.

We checked into the Randolph and I went off to find Jake. I wanted him to meet his beautiful new daughter in the most stress free manner possible. So mother would take care of Kat while I went to take Jake's temperature. I knew where he was staying and I planned to visit him - just to ask him to talk to me. He is a fair-minded and reasonable man and I was sure that he would at least agree to meet.

I checked in at the guard house - they wouldn't just let me stroll into the College. And they sent a kid off to get him. I was standing at the entrance to the passageway into the College when I heard, "Sasha?" And there he was.

He looked stricken. I thought, "Oh shit!! He's still angry!!" In order to disarm him I put on my friendliest smile. And I tried to reflect the irony of my suddenly appearing there. I said, "Hello Jake. You must be a little surprised to see me?"

He looked like he was still catching up with the situation. So I added in my humblest voice, "There is something that you absolutely need to know."

He looked puzzled. The plan was to meet him at the Randolph, where we could introduce his daughter to him. So I asked him if he could please meet me in an hour. He sort of nodded his head in agreement. I did not want to press matters so I turned and hurried off.

He came into reception exactly an hour later. He was so tall and handsome that I nearly threw myself at his feet and begged him to take me back. But instead I rose and he took both of my hands. The look he gave me was pure, unadulterated love.

I thought to myself, "Well - we did have twelve wonderful years so maybe he still loves me a little bit."

We sat and went through the obligatory pleasantries. I was wishing that we could do that for the rest of our lives. But I had to get the business that I had come for out of the way.

So I dialed my mother and said, "He's here." Mama came down with Kat wrapped in a very expensive swaddling blanket.

Jake looked flabbergasted and maybe a little pissed when he saw my mother. I didn't understand that reaction. But there was no time to think about it because mother turned and with a professional ballerina's flourish she presented Kat for Jake's viewing.