Chapter Two
Laura grabbed her sandwich- ham and Swiss on rye- and sighed as she realized she had no place to sit in the crowded college deli. She skimmed her seating possibilities...Jocks and cheerleaders...Brains discussion science research....hello, guy sitting by himself studying. She smiled, knowing what she had to do...No, what Irina had to do...and she tiptoed towards the young man.
"Excuse me, can I sit here? I hate to bother you, it's just the place is so crowded."
He didn't look up from his work, but shuffled his papers over slightly and uttered a curt, "Yes."
Well this isn't going to well, Laura thought to herself as she slid into the vacant chair and unwrapped her lunch. She tried her best not to make it evident she was studying the young man closely.
"What are you working on?" she whispered quietly, so she wouldn't disturb him too much.
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "A thirty page essay for literature...on War and Peace. It's a bit difficult to summerize all that information into just ten pages, then spend the other twenty analyzing it all."
"Can I help? Literature's my major...I'm hoping to study it in grad school."
"You're kidding. You're a lifesaver, you know that," he said, his eyes warm and grateful. "Work's a bit...stressful, I barely have time to work on my studying."
"It's not problem. I'm...Laura, by the way." Damn, she thought, I could've really screwed things up there.
"Jack. I'll tell you what. I'll grab us some coffee and we'll head over to the dorms to study."
"That would be great, Jack."
***
We'll head over to the dorms to study...I heard that one a lot...In two years, he and I went from "studying" in his dorm to much more in the house he purchased after graduation. He proposed to me, as the story goes, and we married, supposedly happily. And despite what Jack thinks now, it was happily. In the two years since I'd sat down with him and almost admitted my deception out loud, the person I had grown up to be, Irina Derevko, ceased to exist, as I grew into Laura Bristow.
***
He'd asked her to marry him, right there in the park.
"I know I'm not great at expressing my feelings all the time," he said, placing his hand on her knee as she sat beside him on a park bench. "So I'm not sure if you realize that when I'm with you, everything makes sense. I don't worry when I'm around you, and I can't think about anything else but you."
Jack paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts together. "You've helped me through so many things...term papers...financial worries...without breaking a sweat. Here I was, practically pulling out my hair ready to break down and cry in frustration, and you walk in and make everything better.
"So," he said, pulling a small black box from his pocket, "What I'm asking you to do is say you'll always be around to make things better all the time. To make my life better."
Laura smiled, knowing what was going to come next. Instead of allowing Jack to kneel, she gave her consent with a kiss.
***
At that point, Irina Derevko was pretty much dead. I was Laura fully, then...Laura, who grew up an only child, who was going to study literature until the day she died. And I gave Irina little thought for almost eight years.
***
Damn, Laura thought, as the blissful utopia of her sleep was shattered by wailing. Loud wailing. And judging from the sound of it, the wailing wasn't going to stop any time soon.
Laura eased herself out of bed, which she noted had been occupied only by herself. Jack must be working downstairs.
She started to shuffle towards the wailing's origin, when she realized it was, in fact, being replaced by a shushing sound. She walked into another room, and saw Jack holding their week-old daughter in his arms.
"I thought you'd be tired," he said softly, "So I thought I'd see to her."
Laura hesitated. "Is she okay?" she murmured, concerned. "Not hungry or anything?"
"No, I think she just wants a bit of attention."
He was such a great father to Sydney. While most new fathers would be freaking out over little things like first feedings or changing diapers, he fit into the role with ease. Laura loved how he didn't hold back in his new job.
"Well, then," Laura chuckled, "That shouldn't be a problem considering how you hover over her all the time."
Jack smiled, then, proud. Sydney, at a week-old, was already breathtaking with her fine brown hair and delicate features.
Laura moved towards her daughter and Jack, feeling her eyes begin to tear up.
"What is it?" Jack whispered. "Is everything all right?"
"Fine," she choked out. "Just hormones, you know?"
***
Hormones my foot, I thought. I think in that moment I realized this little girl would have to depend on her father for the vast majority of her life. But I managed to block out those thoughts, even on the forays I did for the KGB, until Sydney was six. A week before Laura Bristow's death.
Laura grabbed her sandwich- ham and Swiss on rye- and sighed as she realized she had no place to sit in the crowded college deli. She skimmed her seating possibilities...Jocks and cheerleaders...Brains discussion science research....hello, guy sitting by himself studying. She smiled, knowing what she had to do...No, what Irina had to do...and she tiptoed towards the young man.
"Excuse me, can I sit here? I hate to bother you, it's just the place is so crowded."
He didn't look up from his work, but shuffled his papers over slightly and uttered a curt, "Yes."
Well this isn't going to well, Laura thought to herself as she slid into the vacant chair and unwrapped her lunch. She tried her best not to make it evident she was studying the young man closely.
"What are you working on?" she whispered quietly, so she wouldn't disturb him too much.
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "A thirty page essay for literature...on War and Peace. It's a bit difficult to summerize all that information into just ten pages, then spend the other twenty analyzing it all."
"Can I help? Literature's my major...I'm hoping to study it in grad school."
"You're kidding. You're a lifesaver, you know that," he said, his eyes warm and grateful. "Work's a bit...stressful, I barely have time to work on my studying."
"It's not problem. I'm...Laura, by the way." Damn, she thought, I could've really screwed things up there.
"Jack. I'll tell you what. I'll grab us some coffee and we'll head over to the dorms to study."
"That would be great, Jack."
***
We'll head over to the dorms to study...I heard that one a lot...In two years, he and I went from "studying" in his dorm to much more in the house he purchased after graduation. He proposed to me, as the story goes, and we married, supposedly happily. And despite what Jack thinks now, it was happily. In the two years since I'd sat down with him and almost admitted my deception out loud, the person I had grown up to be, Irina Derevko, ceased to exist, as I grew into Laura Bristow.
***
He'd asked her to marry him, right there in the park.
"I know I'm not great at expressing my feelings all the time," he said, placing his hand on her knee as she sat beside him on a park bench. "So I'm not sure if you realize that when I'm with you, everything makes sense. I don't worry when I'm around you, and I can't think about anything else but you."
Jack paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts together. "You've helped me through so many things...term papers...financial worries...without breaking a sweat. Here I was, practically pulling out my hair ready to break down and cry in frustration, and you walk in and make everything better.
"So," he said, pulling a small black box from his pocket, "What I'm asking you to do is say you'll always be around to make things better all the time. To make my life better."
Laura smiled, knowing what was going to come next. Instead of allowing Jack to kneel, she gave her consent with a kiss.
***
At that point, Irina Derevko was pretty much dead. I was Laura fully, then...Laura, who grew up an only child, who was going to study literature until the day she died. And I gave Irina little thought for almost eight years.
***
Damn, Laura thought, as the blissful utopia of her sleep was shattered by wailing. Loud wailing. And judging from the sound of it, the wailing wasn't going to stop any time soon.
Laura eased herself out of bed, which she noted had been occupied only by herself. Jack must be working downstairs.
She started to shuffle towards the wailing's origin, when she realized it was, in fact, being replaced by a shushing sound. She walked into another room, and saw Jack holding their week-old daughter in his arms.
"I thought you'd be tired," he said softly, "So I thought I'd see to her."
Laura hesitated. "Is she okay?" she murmured, concerned. "Not hungry or anything?"
"No, I think she just wants a bit of attention."
He was such a great father to Sydney. While most new fathers would be freaking out over little things like first feedings or changing diapers, he fit into the role with ease. Laura loved how he didn't hold back in his new job.
"Well, then," Laura chuckled, "That shouldn't be a problem considering how you hover over her all the time."
Jack smiled, then, proud. Sydney, at a week-old, was already breathtaking with her fine brown hair and delicate features.
Laura moved towards her daughter and Jack, feeling her eyes begin to tear up.
"What is it?" Jack whispered. "Is everything all right?"
"Fine," she choked out. "Just hormones, you know?"
***
Hormones my foot, I thought. I think in that moment I realized this little girl would have to depend on her father for the vast majority of her life. But I managed to block out those thoughts, even on the forays I did for the KGB, until Sydney was six. A week before Laura Bristow's death.