ROMANOV AUTUMN
Chapter Forty-Eight
The next couple of weeks passed
by in a blur for Jack. His stomach rebelled against the slight rocking of the
ship, and he spent quite a bit of time laying in the cabin or retching over the
rail. Mac did her best to take care of him, though there wasn't much she could
do. She enjoyed being able to romp around on deck when the weather cooperated,
and gazing longingly at the horizon. At one point, Jack lounged on a deck chair
watching as she peered through the railing, her back turned to him. He was
fascinated by how well she held herself, almost as though she were born into
royalty. That's her mother's traits coming out, he thought, amused as
she turned around and begged him to stand at the rail with her.
"Look how the sun makes the
water all sparkly! Isn't it pretty?" she asked. Jack placed a gentle hand
on her shoulder, peering up at the sky. Night was falling, and he knew it would
start to get chilly.
"It is beautiful,
honey," he agreed, "but we should go inside soon. We'll be arriving
in Europe on Friday morning, and we want to get plenty of sleep."
Mac pouted, but she agreed to
join her father back in the cabin. They went to grab something to eat for a
late supper, and Jack watched as she worked through her meal, pleased that the
little girl's appetite had returned to normal.
"Will I be able to
understand Grandma and Grandpa?" Mac asked, raising an eyebrow once she
finished her dinner, and Jack looked at her. "Aunt Olive said they only
speak Russian. I've never heard it afore."
Jack chuckled. "Well, sweetheart,
your aunts and uncles speak English, so they'll be able to help."
Mac smiled at him and finished
the last of her tea.
*****
On Friday morning, as planned,
the ship docked and everyone disembarked in Cherbourg. Jack paid for train
tickets to finish the journey, and they arrived in St. Petersburg three days
later. Mac grew more excited as they grew closer to her mother's city, and
nerves nearly made Jack sick to his stomach all over again.
"Here we are," he
breathed when they arrived at the medium-sized stone cottage. It looked so
familiar, despite the fact that he hadn't been here in nearly five years. And
the last time I saw it, the place was covered in snow, Jack told himself
before lifting a fist and knocking three times on the front door.
Mac grabbed his hand, chewing
anxiously on her nails, and both stepped back when it opened.
Pytor, now in his late teens,
immediately exclaimed something in Russian and begged his siblings and parents
to join him. The Veronins swarmed around their guests, sweeping Mac off of the
floor and showering her with kisses.
Mr. and Mrs. Veronin were aging
considerably, and Jack could feel an overwhelming sadness coming from the old
couple.
"We did receive your letter
regarding our dear sister," Geena said in her thick Russian accent,
clasping Jack's hands. "We were very sorry to hear such tragic news."
Jack nodded, unable to speak for
the time being, and fought hard against tears that welled in his eyes. Mac
noticed the expression on her father's face and immediately embraced his legs,
burying her nose against the fabric of his pants.
"Please sit," Sergei
encouraged. Everyone gathered about the fireplace, continuing to eye Mac
proudly. "You should have written to tell us you were coming."
"It was kind of a last
minute decision," Jack admitted, "and we're not planning to stay
here."
"Oh?" Geena raised an
eyebrow. "Did you have other arrangements?"
"I am going to search for
job in St. Petersburg and hopefully find a small flat in town." He glanced
from one to the other, and could tell Alyiah's mother and father were deeply
confused by his strange language. Geena leaned sideways and translated his
comment in Russian, and Mr. Veronin let out an, "Ayi, ayi," and what
he said afterwards caused Mac to tug at her father's sleeve.
"What did he say?" she
asked. Jack looked at him for a moment.
"He insists you stay here
until you are on your feet," Geena replied.
"I couldn't do that,"
Jack argued. "Seriously. I want to be able to make my own way, and it
won't be for long. We're probably only going to stay here for a couple of
months."
Geena sighed and translated
again, watching as her father stood and pulled Sergei off to the side. Pytor
began to perform simple magic tricks for Mac, which included pulling cigarettes
mysteriously from behind his ear. She giggled with delight. Jack shook his head
with amusement.
When Mr. Veronin and Sergei
returned, it was determined that one of the boys would accompany Jack into town
the following morning.
"Thank you," Jack
replied, grateful for the assistance. "I don't mean to be stubborn."
Mrs. Veronin began to speak,
pointing a frail, wrinkled finger in Mac's direction and turning her head
anxiously towards Geena.
"Mama," Geena groaned,
replying in Russian, translating that she'd stated, "Jack is very
responsible, and he has gotten his little one this far. She seems to be in
perfect health and is quite mature for her age. They will be welcome here at
any time."
Mrs. Veronin clicked her tongue
and offered a pot of tea, which Jack gladly accepted.
"However, you will stay here
tonight," Gleb spoke up, having been quiet the entire time, and Jack
nodded his agreement.
"Thank you," he
replied. "My previous employer in America did provide me with enough to
start on, so I should be all right. I think it would be best for Mac to live in
the city so she can become familiar with the culture."
Mr. Veronin answered quietly
after Geena translated, and she nodded. "Yes. Papa believes you are very
wise in your choice, though he urges you to be quite careful. There have been
many strikes and riots over the past few years among the townsfolk. Conditions
are not at their best."
Jack expressed his gratitude for
their advice. Eventually, the family settled down for dinner. Mac sat between
Gleb and Pytor, who made a small attempt to teach her a bit of Russian.
"Honestly, she is four years
old," Geena exclaimed. "What will she possibly remember?"
"Children learn languages
much more quickly than adults," Sergei explained, noticing Mac's wide,
curious eyes as she stared at her uncles.
After supper, Gleb led the new
arrivals to Alyiah's old room, which she used to share with Geena. Geena,
however, opted to spend the night with her parents, so as to give Jack and Mac
a bit of privacy.
"Thank you very much,"
Jack told them once inside, and Gleb bent down to give Mac one more
rib-crushing hug before turning away.
Once alone with the door closed,
Mac stood in the center of the small room, watching as her father began to get
their things ready for bed.
"This is where Mama
slept?" she asked. Jack glanced over his shoulder.
"Yes, it is," he
replied. He began to help her with her clothing. After changing into
nightclothes, both climbed into the twin bed. Jack allowed Mac to snuggle close
to his side. Her eyes were bright in the dim light. He gently stroked her soft,
curly hair.
"I like my aunt and
uncles," Mac whispered. "Pytor's funny."
Jack chuckled, yawning and
excusing himself afterwards. "Mmm-hmm," he replied, attempting to
settle down. "Honey, try to get some sleep."
Mac watched as he turned so he
could get more comfortable and lay staring at the ceiling for a long time. It
was hard to believe her mother had once slept in this very bed. She gently
fingered the sheets and comforter as though it still belonged to her.
That night, Mac had her first
dream of a strange woman wearing a silky white gown, her dark brown hair
hanging loosely about her shoulders. Mac stood in a large, wide, open field,
watching as the stranger twirled about in circles, humming to herself as she
would bend low and pick wildflowers with an effortless swoop.
"Mama!" Mac cried, not
knowing why, but for some reason the identification of the stranger felt right.
The woman stood and turned in the
direction of the child's voice, her pale lips stretching into a smile. She
motioned with her free hand for Mac to follow, but before Mac could reach her,
she dropped the flowers and began to run.
"Mama, come back! Mama,
wait!" Mac begged, tripping over the uneven ground. Eventually, her mother
disappeared from view, and Mac began to cry, sitting down alone, surrounded by
dandelions.
Jack heard Mac cry out. It took
him a couple of seconds before he could gather his wits. "Mama!
Mama!" Mac wailed, tossing and turning fitfully, the sheets becoming
tangled around her feet. "Mama! Come back, Mama!"
Jack eased Mac awake, pulling her
close when her eyes snapped open.
"Shh," he soothed,
rubbing her back gently. "It's all right. It was just a dream,
honey."
"Mama left me," Mac
whimpered. Jack couldn't help but feel stunned. "Why did she go
away?"
"Let's not worry about that
now," Jack encouraged. "You're safe. I'm here. Papa's here." He
felt a single tear falling down his cheek, horrified that his daughter would be
dreaming about her mother, a woman she'd never met, and waking up in such
terror.
It took nearly twenty minutes,
but Jack managed to ease Mac back to sleep, remaining awake until he was
certain she would not start crying again. It was past midnight when he finally
drifted off again, his arm protectively around his daughter's tiny waist.
*****
The next morning, Jack woke Mac
and the two of them ate breakfast with Alyiah's family. Sergei offered to take
them to St. Petersburg, and everyone showered Mac with kisses and hugs before
they left.
"Please, Jack, if you need
anything at all, or if town becomes too dangerous, return here," Geena
begged as Gleb helped them into the carriage, where Sergei sat at the reins.
"Thank you," Jack
replied, and Mac grinned.
"Do svidaniya!" she
called, and all three men stared at her, stunned.
"Khorosho!" Sergei
complimented, and Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Did she just say
good-bye?" he asked, and Gleb nodded, chuckling.
"She learns very quickly.
That is good," he replied, and Jack couldn't help but smile as well.
"I just hope I'll be able to understand her after a while," he
teased, holding protectively onto the back of Mac's dress as she knelt on her
seat, waving frantically to the family she was leaving behind.