Metronome, The by D. R. Bell Read Free Book Online Page B

in Los Angeles. Jennifer just finished her first year, Simon is a year ahead.”
    “Why are they so far away from you? Don’t you have great colleges where you live?”
    “My father-in-law went there and pushed really hard for them to follow. Plus, California’s year-round sunshine was hard to pass on.”
    “Is your breakup hard on them?”
    “On Jennifer, yes. Fortunately, she was in college already. Simon, he grew distant a while ago. Tell me about David.”
    “His father’s name is Jim Morton; he was in Moscow with the American-funded Reconstruction and Development Bank back in the 90’s. He has a wife and two daughters back in New York, I am not sure he ever plans to leave them. Jim comes here on business once or twice a year; I don’t think his wife even knows about his son. It’s his clothes you are wearing.”
    “Don’t you want more?”
    “Jim helps financially,” Anya stops, looks down at her hands pinching folds of her skirt. “Yes, I would have wanted more. But I no longer expect it from him. Meanwhile, I have David. I hope Jim will eventually gather up the courage to officially accept his son. I teach physics, I never had the same brilliance that my father and you share, but I am good at teaching. And, all the spare time I have goes to my son and my father. It’s a quiet life.”
    She gets up, too. “I can’t stay up too late; I share a bedroom with David. I made you a bed on the living room’s sofa, let me show you.”
    In the living room, I sit down on the sofa and without thinking take Anya’s hand and try to draw her to me.
    She gently removes her hand. “Pavel, I survived you twenty years ago, I am at peace now. You can’t go back in time. Please don’t start something you are not ready for.”
    She leaves, and I silently grieve over the old hurt I inflicted – and Yakov’s words about losing my way hurt more than he knew.

Saturday, June 10
     
    My inner clock is somewhere in Western Europe for when I get up the sun is high up in the sky. Between bad dreams and an uncomfortable bed, I woke up a few times during the night. I make my way to the kitchen wearing Jim Morton’s PJ’s. To my surprise, everyone is there.
    “What’s wrong?” asks Anya seeing my befuddled expression.
    “Well, I thought David would be in school by now.”
    “Pavel, today is Saturday.”
    Of course. I lost track of days. I pour myself a cup of strong black coffee.
    Yakov looks at me expectantly. “So, is your morning wiser than the last evening?”
    “I think so, thanks to you.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “I will head back to New York and try to check on few things.”
    Yakov nods. “I figured you would.”
    Anya asks, “Do you want to stay for a day or two, see some old friends?”
    “No, I want to figure it out if possible; I can’t rest until I do. Besides, what friends do I have here besides you?”
    I don’t explain that after what Pemin told me, I am weary of staying in Russia. I did not tell them about Pemin’s insinuation. With my father being an investigator, I’ve heard too many stories about people being framed and disappearing into the Gulag. Perhaps things have changed, but I don’t want to tempt the fate.
    “I wager he’ll be back,” smiles Yakov.
     
    Anya drives me to the Sheremetyevo Airport. I am back in my washed and dried out clothes, the backpack is on my lap.
    “Did you say that Jim Morton lives in New York?”
    “He works in New York for an investment bank, lives somewhere in the suburbs.”
    “Have you been to New York?”
    “No. I hope to take David there one day.”
    She pulls in front of the terminal, leans over to kiss me on the cheek. “I hope it’ll be less than twenty years before I see you again. Be careful.”
    I get out of the car, close the door and stand there looking at her. She pulls away from the curb without looking back.
    The next flight to New York is on Delta. I use my U.S. passport to get a ticket. This being Saturday, the flight is