Life for the only child of Senator Delarosa and General Canterbury had actually worsened since his return home from France. Months of being disbelieved, ignored, belittled and threatened with military academy. In August, he had taken the bus to the New Jersey to beg a home with his estranged grandmother, who had welcomed him. There the independent old woman had showed him a new kind of parenting, not the occasional attention normally when he'd disappointed his mom and dad's non-verbal expectations or his purposeful misbehaviour. Tough love meant open discussions on hopes, goals, problems and joint projects, joy at his successes and real thought through explanations when he'd missed goals, lost his way or been less than honest. Myra Delarosa had been a single parent in the fifties, when such behaviour got her disowned by her family and ostracised in the close knit local community in Brooklyn. She had been lucky, her married lover had been secretly happy with impending parenthood and supported her moving state. In stolen moments he had doted in his daughter long after the lover's passion had cooled and reformed into a close friendship. For Joe, this new situation was decidedly more blue collar, though not breadline, a ski trip to Russia was out of the question. Paul had promised to call everyday and keep him, Tom and Cassian in the loop.
It had taken six weeks for his parents to catch on their only child had left, both were shocked at his decision to attend the public high school, retaking his freshman year. Work kept both from actually trying to repair the fractured relationship.
Pulling his grades up from a D average before Point Blanc, he was now a B grade student in regular counselling and because he was perceived as a bad boy, had achieved a weird form of popularity at Thomas Edison High. With the help of Paul's spreadsheets on goals for graduation and his grandmother's tutoring, he knew he could graduate at seventeen. He could try for a scholarship or go the tried and tested route for college after a stint in the marines, not the army so no one could accuse him of trading on daddy's reputation.
Christmas with grandma was spent helping the homeless, sick and old. At 6AM on New Years Eve he got his first transatlantic phone call. "Hey Joseph, got some shockingly bad news from Russia, we're delayed in Moscow until the 2nd, but I'm bunking with Dimitry in the Kremlin because his foster brother is in hospital recovering from an appendectomy. Had his op on Christmas Day. Pop is busy at the hospital, so us bad boys are spending our meals with the big kahuna himself, the President and his daughter. Well, Dima's dating her. Hugo and Jamie are at the resort already and have assured me it's 5 star and the snow is perfect. It's a shame Sasha will be on bed rest, but we can all organise ourselves to keep him company. Wish you were here, this place is amazing. I'll visit when I get back with the full low down. We can go through my impending emancipation. Got to love the fact my dad threw my stepmom out, I have no idea why she is still trying to secure my guardianship. I think the bitch Stomachbag was preferable. Then again, Granny is insanely overprotective, but thinks networking with other billionaires is a great way to spend my holidays."
Joe talked of his future plans not to distract Paul, but bolster him for the nasty custody battle between his stepmother, his maternal grandmother and the dark horse, his dad's half brother, who Paul actually wanted to live with as he was the only option of a semi normal life. The ex wife wanted the generous living allowance from Paul's trust. While his grandmother was out to turn Paul into the image of a society WASP snob. "In two and a half years, I'll be my own man. I never have to talk to my parents again. Grandma threatened to file charges of wilful abandonment against them when they dared mention guardianship irregularities. You are spot on about getting emancipated early. My mom is terrified of bad publicity, though dad is happy I'm no longer his problem. He even wrote that in his last email. My deposition is practically rubber stamped already. Trawl through all the past emails from your stepmom and grandmother, use every complaint and rant against them."
Dimitry then came on the open line, "we're off to the hospital to see the invalid now. He still making out he's 100% ok for skiing. His scar is so cool though. Papa tells all visitors the story of his own appendicitis when he was a conscript. Sasha has loads of extra New Year presents from everyone at the US Embassy and here at the Kremlin. Next year we should get sick to cash in on the sympathy bonus. Though it has been cool home alone. We're both eaten Sasha's stash of candy and cookies. The chef here baked a five tier gateau for New Year celebration, Paul and I have been invited. Bet we can both eat more than six portions."
...
Alex was being fed borscht from a thermos by Ola. She had sent her father home, so he could organise packing. It was New Years Day and her husband and son were off with her in laws. She was glad of the peace here. Her baby brother finally had a healthy appetite. Her super organised and connected sister had arranged for two nurses to look after both their father and brother at the ski resort. Both needing the holiday to recuperate and to restrain Sasha from escaping to ski or skate. His stitches may be out tomorrow morning, but he had already promised to take the next three weeks easy. No work, no workouts and eating extra meals to make up for the week of fasting.
"Ola, can I have your recipe. Your borscht is way better than papa's. What's different?"
"You need to grow and ferment tomatoes. I have make up jars in the summer, mixing ripe and green tomatoes, though those are just used in this winter soup. I make my own stock, sometimes chicken, sometimes beef, sometimes ham. Papa uses water with cubes or canned stock, he learned to cook out of necessity and in haste. I took over most cooking, while Tasha kept house while dad worked. All working together to be a functioning family without mother or grandmother. Mama was an orphan of the war, with no parents or siblings like your Dima." The loss still hurt, but Sasha understood, he had lost so much. All, of them tempered by pain so young, too young. "So, you work in the kitchens, do you want to be a chef?"
Alex shrugged, "I don't want to be a soldier, a spy or a politician. Chef? Maybe. I like good food. Problem is I dislike a lot of things though, it might be an impediment to success. Perfection for me is soup, salad and sandwiches. I think I'll be running a coffeehouse or lunch place, not chasing Michelin stars."
...
The hotel was luxurious, the basic triple family room booked by Boris had been upgraded to a suite next to those booked by Rudi Vries and Dieter Sprintz. Both men, played a game of gentle oneupmanship in generosity. Each day their sons inviting a Dima to share their lessons with a former Olympic coach. The fathers playing cards, discussing politics, business and the most difficult task for all of them, guiding their sons into adulthood.
Boris sipping his herbal tea, after a long steam bath and massage with these new friends this morning. Alex had slept late and came outside to relax on the veranda. The nurse then arriving with a tray of juice, yogurt, fruit and grains. His son eating two helpings to earn a smile from the stern woman. The teen had already stopped taking any painkillers, but had another two weeks on antibiotics. "The others are skiing on the green runs today, you are missing out on excellent instruction."
"I took on black runs last winter with... with the guy who used to look after me." Alex was processing loss and grief in his sessions with Maya. Time to miss Ian, Chelsea, life in London; as well as rationalising everything that had been wrong about his upbringing.
"You can talk about your past, Sasha. Between family and friends, you can trust us. You are safe. I wish I could say forever, but for now. That is why you should leave avenues of opportunities. Hateful American food, not just burgers and fries, is part of the charade you have been burdened with, but one that might keep you alive in the future." Two boys hurt in the past, both intelligent, resourceful, but resentment and silence had been beaten into Dimitry and reckless problem solving and survival insidiously programmed into Sasha. Slowly and carefully undoing years of damage. A long term project more rewarding than the politics he'd used to fill the void left after the death of his wife. Both his girls had compensated for his grief then. Second time around he was a full time, fully committed parent.