Zoya (38 page)

“I'm going to miss you terribly, Zoya.”

“I'm going to miss you too,” she confessed, “but it's just as well.” She was enjoying herself too much with him and she knew it had to stop, but she no longer remembered exactly why. It had all made sense several days ago, but it no longer did. She wanted to be with him, as much as he wanted her, and now they were going back to New York to lead their own lives again. “We shouldn't have started this, Simon,” she said as he looked at her and smiled.

“I'm in love with you, Zoya Ossupov.” He loved the sound of her Russian name, and still teased her
now and then about the title she hated to use, but did for work.

“Don't say things like that, Simon. It will only make things more difficult.”

“I want to marry you.” He said it quietly, without a shred of doubt in his voice, as she looked up at him unhappily.

“That's impossible.”

“No, it's not. Let's go home and tell the children we're in love.”

“That's crazy. We just met.” And she hadn't even let him make love to her yet. She was still frightened, and too bound by her loyalties to her late husband.

“All right. Then let's wait a week.”

She laughed at him and he kissed her again.

“Will you marry me?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you're crazy,” she laughed between kisses on the deck. “You might even be dangerous for all I know.”

“I'll be very dangerous if you don't marry me. Have you ever seen a crazed Russian Jew go berserk on an English ship? It could cause an international incident! Think of the people you'll upset … I think you'd better say yes….” He kissed her again.

“Simon, please … be sensible. … You might hate me when you see me again in New York.”

“I'll let you know tomorrow night. If I don't, will you marry me?”

“No!” It was impossible to be serious with him at times, and at other times he seemed to be able to look into her very soul.

He took her hands firmly in his then and looked
down into her eyes. “I have never in my life ever asked a woman to marry me. I'm in love with you. I'm a responsible man. I have a business. My family thinks I'm very intelligent. I am begging you, Zoya … please, darling … please marry me.”

“Oh Simon, I can't.” She looked at him unhappily. “What would my children think? They depend on me entirely, they're not ready for someone to walk into their lives, and neither am I. I've been alone for too long.”

“Yes, you have,” he said quietly. “Much too long. But you don't have to stay that way. Will you think about it?”

She hesitated, and then melted as she looked up at him. “I will … but that doesn't mean any thing will ever come of it.” But that was enough for him, they sat for hours, talking on the deck, and the next morning he knocked on her cabin door at seven o'clock.

“Come and look at the Statue of Liberty with me.”

“At this hour?” She was still in her nightgown, and her hair hung down her back in a long braid as she opened the door to him. “What time is it?”

He smiled as he saw the nightgown and the braid. “It's time to get up, lazy face. You can get dressed afterward. Just put on a coat and some shoes.” She slipped into the mink Axelle had given her several years before, and laughed as she put on high heels, and followed him onto the deck in her outlandish outfit.

“If any of my clients see me, they'll never trust my judgment again.”

“Good. Then maybe Axelle will fire you, and I can save you from a terrible fate.” But they both fell silent as they saw the skyline of New York and the
Statue of Liberty as they sailed slowly in. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”

“It
is.”
She nodded happily. She had paid homage to the past, and now she was looking at the future again. Everything here seemed new and alive, and just looking at it made her feel good again. He turned then and took her in his arms, and held her close as they docked, and then she hurried downstairs to dress and close her trunks. And she didn't see him again until they were ready to leave the ship. He offered them a ride, but they had to decline as Axelle had a car waiting for them. But he followed them down the gangplank, carrying their small bags, and suddenly Zoya gave a small shout and surged ahead. Nicholas was waiting for her on the pier, scanning the crowd, looking so handsome and young. She ran to him, calling his name, and he flew into her arms and held her close. He had come alone, after taking Sasha to school, and it was obvious how much she loved the boy. Simon watched them enviously as he assisted Axelle, and then he went to where Zoya stood with her son, and solemnly shook her hand and smiled at the boy. He would have liked to have a son just like him, particularly when he saw how like Zoya he was.

“Hello, I'm Simon Hirsch.” He introduced himself as the boy looked up at him. “You must be Nicholas.” Nicky smiled shyly at the man, and then laughed.

“How did you know?”

“Your mother talks about you all the time.”

“I talk about her too,” he smiled, slipping an arm around her, as Zoya told him he had grown. He was almost fifteen years old, and he was already as tall as Clayton had been. “Did you have fiin?” He asked as
they waited for her trunks, so the customs officer could inspect them.

“I did. But I missed you too much.” She said something to him in Russian then, and he laughed, and Simon laughed too, as Zoya realized he had understood her. “That's not fair!” She had told him that his hair was too long, and he looked like a large lovably shaggy dog. But Nicholas was suddenly interested in Simon as they stood on the dock together.

“So you speak Russian, sir?”

“A little bit. My parents are from Vladivostok. My mother used to say things like that to me in Russian too, sometimes she still does.” They all laughed, and a moment later the bags were checked, and Axelle and Zoya were free to go, and as they drove away, Simon stood watching them, waving for a long time, as in the car Nicholas asked his mother, in Russian again.

“Who was that?”

“A friend of Axelle's. He happened to be on the ship with us.”

“He seems like a nice man.” Nicholas looked unimpressed.

“He is,” Zoya said noncommittaily, and asked him how Sasha was.

“As impossible as she always is. Now she wants a dog. A wolfhound, if you please. She says they're ‘all the rage,’ and she's going to drive you crazy till she gets one. I think they're horrible. If we get anything, let's get a pug, or a boxer.”

“Who said we were going to get a dog?”

“Sasha did, and what Sasha wants, she gets.” Axelle smiled. They had switched from Russian to French, when Zoya told him not to be rude to Axelle.

“Is that so?”

“Isn't it?” Nicholas accused with a grin.

“Not all the time,” she blushed, but he was right, she was a very persistent child, and sometimes it was easier to give in to her, just to keep the peace. “Other than that, has she behaved?” He had stopped in to see her every day, Zoya knew, although he had been staying with a friend, and she was at home with a baby-sitter.

Nicholas groaned in answer. “Yesterday she had a fit when I said she couldn't go to the movies with a friend. But she hadn't done her homework yet, and it was too late anyway. I'm sure she'll tell you about that the minute you walk in.”

“Welcome home,” Axelle smiled, and Zoya laughed. She had missed them a great deal, but she knew she was going to miss Simon now too, and he had been so sweet to Nicholas when they met.

“Your friend seemed nice,” he said politely to Axelle on the way home.

“I think so too.” She looked pointedly at Zoya as the boy chattered on, and she silently hoped that Zoya would see Simon again once they were home.

Soon after she arrived home a huge bouquet of roses was delivered. The card said only, “Don't forget, Love, S.” and she blushed as she tucked the card into her desk, and turned her attention to her daughter, who, as predicted, was complaining furiously about her brother.

“I've just gotten home, give me a minute to adjust!” Zoya laughed.

“Can we get a dog?” Nicholas had been right. The demands were endless in the first two hours, and she was scarcely mollified by the new red dress. But Nicholas was thrilled with his watch, and the clothes
and the new books. He threw his arms around her neck and kissed her warmly on the cheek.

“Welcome home, Mama”

“I love you, sweetheart … and you too,” she pulled Sasha into the circle of her arms also.

“What about the dog?” Sasha inquired as her mother laughed.

“We'll see, Sasha … we'll see …” The phone spared her then, and she went to answer it. It was Simon, and she thanked him for the roses as she laughed at Nicholas and Sasha arguing about the mythical wolfhound.

“Do you miss me yet?”

“Very much. I think I need a referee here.”

“Excellent. I'll apply for the job. How about dinner tomorrow night?”

“How about a dog?” she laughed and he sounded confused, he could hear the excitement at the other end.

“You want to eat a dog?”

“That's a nice thought,” she laughed again, suddenly missing him more than she thought she would.

“I'll pick you up at eight o'clock.” But she panicked as she thought about it. What would the children say? What would Nicholas think? She wanted to call him back and tell him she'd changed her mind, but even after they went to bed, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

He appeared promptly at eight o'clock the following night, and rang the bell, just as Zoya came out of her room. The apartment was small, but simple and elegant. They had very few things, but nowadays what they had was good. He stood in the doorway
looking larger than life, and as she ushered him inside, she saw Sasha staring at him.

“Who's that?” Sasha inquired, making her mother furious that she was so rude. Nicholas was right about her.

“This is Mr. Hirsch, may I present my daughter, Alexandra?”

“How do you do?” He shook her hand solemnly and with that Nicholas wandered in.

“Oh hello … how are you?” He smiled ingenuously, and was telling Sasha what a pest she was as they left. Zoya smiled as she closed the door, and they waited for the elevator to take them down. She was worried about the look she'd seen in Sasha's eyes. It was as though she knew why he was there, but Simon told her he had expected it and he had a very thick skin, so not to worry.

He took her to dinner at “21,” and they talked for hours, as they had on the ship. And then slowly he walked her home, and kissed her gently as they stood a few feet from her house.

“I can't stand not seeing you. I was like a kid waiting for Christmas all day today. Why don't we take the children somewhere tomorrow afternoon?” It would be Sunday and she didn't have to work, and she liked the idea, but she was also nervous about what Sasha would say, or even gentle Nicholas.

“What will the children think?”

“They'll think that they have a new friend. Is that so terrible?”

“They might be very rude to you again.”

“I can handle it. Zoya, I don't think you understand. This is everything I want. I meant what I told you on the ship. I love you.”

“How do you know? How can you be so sure?” She was still afraid of what she felt for him, but she had missed him all day too, and she hated to leave him now, even until the next day. How was it possible? How had it happened to her sifter all these years? She knew she was in love with him too. But she didn't know what to do about it yet. She still wanted to run away, and she was no longer sure she could.

“Just give it a chance, my love.” He kissed her again. “I'll come to pick you all up at noon.”

“You're a very brave man.”

He smiled at her happily. “Not as brave as you, my love. See you tomorrow. Maybe we'll take a drive somewhere.”

“The children would love that.”

And the next morning, when he arrived, in spite of Sasha's complaints that she wanted to play with her dolls, they drove to Long Island and loved it. Nicholas almost fainted when he saw the car, a brand-new Cadillac, in a distinguished shade of dark green, with white sidewall tires, and every possible new device. He had never seen anything so beautiful, and Simon invited him to sit next to him in the front seat.

“Would you like to drive it, son?” He waited until they were on a back road, and actually let Nicholas take the wheel. The boy felt as though he had died and gone to heaven, as Zoya watched him from where she sat in the backseat with Sasha. Simon was right, the boy needed a man in his life. He needed a friend. Even Sasha seemed to behave better than she had in months, and she flirted mercilessly with Simon as they drove home again. He had taken them to lunch at a little restaurant he knew. They ate oysters and shrimp, and for dessert they had ice cream.

“Well, Countess Ossupov,” he teased, once the children had gone to bed, and he was sitting in the living room with her. “How did I do? Pass or fail?”

“What do you think? Nicholas was never so happy in his life, and I think Sasha is in love with you.”

“And her mother?” He looked at her seriously, gazing into her eyes, as she avoided his, and then slowly she turned to him. “What do you say, Zoya … will you marry me?”

She felt as though she had swallowed her heart as she whispered to him, and held out a hand, “Yes … yes, Simon, I will.” He looked as though he were going to faint, and she wondered if she'd gone mad. It was a crazy thing to do and she scarcely knew the man, but she knew she couldn't live without him.

“Do you mean it?” he asked quietly, afraid to believe his ears, as he pulled her into his arms and she looked up at him with a frightened smile.

“Yes, Simon, I mean it.”

CHAPTER
38

Axelle was stunned when Zoya told her at work the next day that she was getting married. She had hoped that something would come of the relationship, but she had never imagined that it would happen so quickly.

“What do the children think?” she asked, as Zoya looked at her, still amazed herself at what she'd done, or what she'd agreed to. They had agreed to wait for a while, to let the children get used to him first. And Zoya wasn't ready to get married immediately either. After all her years alone, Simon knew she needed time to get used to the idea, and he was ready to give her all the time she needed, within reason.