Moonlight in Odessa (50 page)

Surprisingly it was the director who came to the lobby to greet me. We made small talk in the elevator.

‘David said he was very impressed with you. I’ve never heard him speak so highly of anyone.’

‘Such kind words,’ I said. ‘How long have you and he been colleagues?’

‘We went to college together,’ he said. ‘When we graduated, he got me a job here.’

The director and I walked down a long hall with bland art – thankfully, no stiletto heels or splatters of paint. I crossed my fingers –
please let me get the job. And if I get the job, please let there be a door and walls. And no bars
. He showed me to a small desk in a large entryway. Perhaps human resources was on the other side.

‘Is this where you’re going to interview me?’ I handed him my résumé and steeled myself for the interview.

‘No need. You’ve been transferred.’

‘Wonderful . . .’ I said, stunned. It was a relief to have a job. And only a little disappointed that I didn’t have a door or walls. Boba would tell me to look on the bright side. No bars. There are no bars. I sat down at the desk and thanked him for the escort. He looked at me strangely, then opened the door to a corner office with a fantastic view of the fog. ‘This is your office.’

Apparently, thanks to strong recommendations, I was made a senior account manager – the youngest in the whole company! It seemed daunting at first, but after a week, I realized it was essentially the same work I’d done in Odessa, only there were fewer bribes and less paperwork – just one set of books to fill out. I even had my own personal assistant, Cyndi. Of course, some things don’t change – offices are offices and there will always be gossip, whether you are in Odessa or Vladivostok. But the talk about me was quite nice. Somehow, sections of a letter of recommendation that David had written circulated around the workplace.

I cannot emphasize enough how challenging business in the Ukraine is. Sane businessmen would take one look at the government demands and mafia threats and run. Even armed with my business degree, I would not have lasted forty-eight hours in Odessa without Daria. She cut through red tape with a machete. She knew every single customs agent, tax man, and mobster. Each had a price and Daria was the only one with an index. She not only has a head for business, she has a nose for trouble and eyes that see things most people don’t. She has impeccable work and personal standards. She is not only an astute business partner, she is a wise, intuitive young woman. She speaks English, Russian, and Hebrew . . .

I was stunned. I could not have been more moved if his recommendation had been a love letter. Perhaps, after all, it was of sorts, a declaration of love.

My hand went to my belly the same way it had once moved to Vlad’s ring. Instinctively. Tenderly. This new life filled me with such love, such hope. I thought of the little soul growing inside me. I needed to nurture and protect my baby. My baby. I was so happy. And yet there were moments I was petrified. Would Tristan’s sister-in-law denounce me? Would he? Would the government throw me away because I’d left my husband? I didn’t want to be tense all the time – it wasn’t good for me and it certainly wasn’t good for the baby. Before, I would have paced the apartment, I would have stewed and hesitated. But I had to take action, I needed concrete answers. It wasn’t just me any longer.

I called Molly.

‘My God, where are you?’ she asked. ‘Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick!’

‘I’m sorry, I should have told you . . . I was just afraid.’

‘Afraid?’

‘Afraid of him, afraid to tell people – friends – that I was leaving. Afraid to trust . . .’ I babbled.

‘I’ll keep your secrets,’ she said.

‘I’m in San Francisco.’

She said she wanted to see me. I hesitated to tell her my address.

‘We could meet at a café,’ she offered. I decided to trust her.

Two days later, on Saturday morning, I stood on the sidewalk in front of my building, waiting. She came right on time. She was wearing a mint green blouse and a pair of slacks instead of an extra large T-shirt and baggy jeans. I noticed she’d done her make-up and pulled her auburn hair into a smart ponytail at the base of her neck. She looked relaxed and happy. I wondered at the change.

When she saw me, she hugged me. ‘Thank God you’re okay. When you disappeared, I didn’t know what to think.’

‘I just couldn’t take it anymore.’

She put her arm around my shoulders. ‘I should have helped you.’

I covered her hand with my own. ‘You did.’

She looked around at the buildings and the busy street. ‘It feels good to be in the city. Toby and I used to come once a month, but then . . . well, I guess life happens.’

‘You’re here now. Thank you for coming all this way.’

We walked up four flights of stairs.

‘No elevator,’ I apologized.

‘I needed to stretch my legs. It’s a long drive.’ She started to giggle like a schoolgirl. ‘No one knows I’m here. Not even Toby.’

‘He’ll find out,’ I warned her. ‘He’ll look at your mileage.’

She laughed. ‘It wouldn’t occur to him to look at my gas gauge, oil level, or mileage. He’s no mechanic – I’m on my own.’

She looked at my face. My expression must have said something my silence did not, because she stilled.

‘My God. He did that to you, didn’t he?’

Tears filled my eyes. I don’t know why. Perhaps in gratitude that someone understood a small part of what I had lived. I put the key in the door and opened all three locks. Boba was not on the other side.

Molly looked at the books on my shelves while I turned on the electric kettle.

We sat at the kitchen table in front of the small window.

‘You look fabulous,’ I told her.

‘I realized I’d become worn down and even depressed. Toby and I are in marriage counseling. He’s chipping in more around the house, and I realized that I need to start doing things for myself. I’m going to come visit you, gal.’

‘Brava, brava!’

‘This is where you belong.’ She gestured out to the city. ‘You were right to leave. You’re very brave. I’m proud of you.’

‘Thank you.’ I put two spoonfuls of raspberry jam in my tea and stirred viciously, trying to work up the courage to ask what would happen next. ‘Do you think he’ll try to find me?’

‘No. I think he’s got his mind on other things . . .’ After a long pause, she said, ‘I should have told you this, but he made us promise not to. You’re not the first girl he brought over.’

Kino
.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I almost told you once, but he stopped me . . . I should have tried harder. Her name was Lena. She didn’t last as long as you.’

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

‘Please don’t be mad.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

I nodded. ‘Where was she from?’

‘St Petersburg.’

‘How long did she stay?’

‘Three months.’

‘Did he go there?’

‘Yes, he went to several “socials,” as he called them.’

‘He told me he’d considered it, but “chickened out” at the last moment. Everything was a lie. He told me he was a teacher. He told me he’d never gone to Russia. I was such a fool!’

‘Don’t blame yourself, hon.’

‘Who else can I blame? I should have seen it. The worst is that my life is in his hands . . .’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

‘Women like me have to stay married to guys like him for two years before we’re granted permanent status. If I don’t fulfill the bargain, all he has to do is notify Immigration. They’ll think I married him for a green card, and I’ll be deported.’

‘That’s horrible! No one should have to stay married . . .’

Pity crept into her voice.

‘That’s just the way it is,’ I said briskly. I didn’t want her feeling sorry for me. Odessans know that even if the deck is stacked against us, we must continue to play. ‘Do you think he’ll turn me in?’

‘I don’t know.’ She bit her lip.

‘Oh, God.’ I pressed my hand to my chest. The ring was gone, but in its place was something more, something of infinite value. My hand traveled down my body to my belly.

‘Don’t feel bad. Anyone could see that . . . I don’t want to say you’re too good for him. But we could all see that you didn’t belong there. He was the only one that didn’t see it.’

‘Oh, Molly. Part of me feels guilty for leaving him. Is that crazy?’

‘No, hon. But you don’t have to worry about him. When you left he was drunk for about a week, just like when Lena took off. But he’s moved on. You won’t believe it, but he’s already looking for another bride. He said he was going to try the Philippines this time. He said he heard the women there are more docile.’

I laughed. And laughed. Odessans laugh at the most perverse things. Molly joined me.

‘It is pretty funny,’ she admitted. Then she started to cry. ‘I hope you don’t hate me.’

I started to cry, too. ‘Truly, I’m not angry. You were such a good friend to me. I’ll never forget all you did. The lovely bachelorette party you organized. The bouquet for my wedding. The kindness you, Serenity, and Anna showed me made me want to stay. Made me fall in love with America. Your friendship has been the best part of this journey. I hope we can still be friends and that you’ll visit me again.’

She nodded. ‘Didn’t I just say I would? Are you sure you’re not mad at me?’

‘I’m not mad. I’m relieved.’

And it was true. That chapter of my life was over. I wanted to concentrate on the future. I was free. I could talk to Boba and Jane for hours, eat potatoes three times a day, and cover myself in black if I so desired. I wrote to Anna and Serenity. I made blini for my neighbors; in return, they invited me to brunch. I joined a book club. I asked a co-worker who brought in cinnamon rolls every Monday to teach me how to bake. On Sundays, we worked in her kitchen. Each week was a new recipe. These acts filled me with pleasure. I built my nest, twig by twig.

David suggested I consult with the company lawyers. I explained my situation to them; they felt confident that they could help me get a work visa and later a green card. They also told me about a wonderful concept in California called ‘alimony.’ The way the lawyers spoke of this phenomenon made me wonder what else I didn’t know as a foreigner in America.
Rights, rights
, Oksana had said.
What are our rights?
I would find out.

I didn’t want Tristan’s money but it was a pleasure to tell Oksana that if she divorced Jerry, she would not be penniless or powerless.

Of course I called Valentina. She’d sold Soviet Unions™ to an American entrepreneur for a million dollars in an off-shore account. She said that when she’d started the business, it had been a buyer’s market – the men had the advantage. Now, in just a few years, the tables had turned and Odessan women were on top. ‘It’s become a seller’s market. They get the Americans to take them and their friends shopping and to fancy restaurants. The new owner installed a row of computers and he pays girls to respond to the letters. The clients pay per e-mail sent and received. The women dupe them into sending money for everything from English lessons to plane tickets. He posts indecent photos of models to lure in the men. Ingenious! Why didn’t I think of that?’ she lamented, with a drop of venom in her voice.

She hadn’t changed a bit.

‘How are things in Odessa?’

‘Changing right and left! Foreign businesses have invaded. Some oligarch is renovating the Mikhailovksi Convent on Uspenskaya Street. Muslims are moving in faster than you can say
“
Allah.
”
More and more construction going on. More gaudy than anything. I’m ready for a change if you want to know the truth. Maybe I could visit you in America. This old communist has decided capitalism isn’t so bad.’

She booked her plane ticket and even helped Boba apply for a passport so she could come help me with the baby. When I spoke with Boba on the phone, she sounded happy, like a teenager in love. I don’t think I ever sounded that way about Tristan.

Of course David still called once a week. As we spoke, I realized that in part, my new life was thanks to him. He had hurt me, but he’d also worked hard to make amends. He’d become a true friend. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what? I didn’t do anything.’

‘Whatever you say . . .’

He said he was leaving Odessa.

‘Please don’t be offended. There’s something I want to ask,’ I admitted. ‘It’s about something Vita and Vera said . . . Is it true that you got sent to Odessa as a punishment?’

‘In a way.’

‘What did you do?’

‘You know my grandfather started the shipping company? Well, when he died a little over two years ago, my father decided that he would cut me off if I didn’t prove myself. He blocked my trust fund and set me up as the director of the Odessa office. He thought the challenge would straighten me out. He said if I didn’t keep the branch afloat, he and his lawyers would make sure the family money would skip a generation and go straight to Melinda. He said a lot of other things, too. They’re too nasty to repeat. I arrived here pissed off at the world and ready to drink myself into oblivion.’