"We made it. She's here," Vasily said into the phone.

He had moved out into the hallway of his home so he could speak to his father in private. He didn't know if mama would be listening or have any curiosity at all about who he was talking to, but it still felt wrong to talk in front of her as if she had no sense. Even if that happened to be the case. He slid down against the wall, stepping his feet out into a wall sit. He rested his right hand on his thigh and drummed his finger against it.

"Lida and the kids okay?"

"They're helping Klara make supper," Dmitri replied. "Lida has been sleeping since she got here."

"That's good, she needs it," Vasily said, wishing strongly that he could join her. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this exhausted. With the emotional weight of the day crushing on his shoulders, he would have loved to be able to go lay down somewhere alone alone to just process everything.

"I still can't believe it," Dmitri said sadly.

"Neither can I," Vasily echoed.

"Has she said anything?" Dmitri asked.

"Not really," Vasily replied.

He straightened up from his wall sit and looked around the corner into the living room. His mother was still where he had left her, sitting directly on the floor surrounded by his children's toys. She hadn't made the mess. Koyla and Vera had most likely torn the room apart picking out their favourite toys to take with them to Dedushka's, and Lida was too sick at the moment to insist they clean up.

Red had been enthralled when they walked in. She'd gone for the stuffed animals left on the couch. Picking them up one by one to stroke her hand over their fur. She'd brushed a panda bear against her cheek, seeming to enjoy the softness of it. Then it was into the toy box with it. Vasily had watched from the threshold as his mother caressed or hugged each teddy, before putting it away. She had been about halfway through cleaning up the entire living room, when she seemed to change her mind and feel like taking everything back out again. Since she seemed so content, he had left her to her devices and decided to call his father.

"How did she do on the drive?" Dmitri asked.

"We got here in one piece," Vasily replied. "I was terrified I was going to get pulled over."

"Why, what happened?" asked Dmitri.

"Just, uh-"

He had been going to talk about how she wouldn't keep a seatbelt on. He had buckled her in three times before he decided not to fight it. In the backseat of his car, she had continually slid from one side of the bench to the other, looking out one window and then the next. Vasily had been content to let her amuse herself, while he drove home in silence, sneaking glances at her in the rearview mirror. He hadn't spoken more than two words to her since they'd brought her out to him, and she didn't mind.

"Here, watch," Vasily said to her in Russian, and she looked at him curiously as he knelt down beside her. She had her hands rubbing against the top of Koyla's fire truck, pushing down on the buttons that didn't work. Vasily reached under the truck to switch it on, and then gently reached for her hand. He guided her fingers back over the buttons. This time when she pushed down, it lit up and sirens wailed. She shoved it away from her, looking alarmed, and gave her son an accusatory glance.

"Alright, that was a bad idea," Vasily muttered to himself. "Why don't you try this one instead?" he suggested in Russian. He pulled over Vera's dollhouse, which was fully furnished and housed a family of calico critters.

Red reached for one of the dolls and Vasily breathed a sigh of relief. That was the most interaction he had had with her since he'd picked her up. He didn't know how to approach the situation but instinctively felt keeping her occupied was the best course of action.

"What is she doing?" asked Dmitri.

"She's just looking at stuff," Vasily said vaguely. He straightened up and backed out of the living room once again, to the safe refuge of the hallway.

"Have you asked her if she knows your name?" Dmitri asked.

"No," Vasily answered, feeling annoyed. If his father knew what it was like to be here with her right now, he would not ask him such things. Vasily was struggling to comfortably even look her in the eye right now. He wasn't about to start questioning her. "Why don't you come over and ask her if she remembers your name, Pop?"

"I'm just...wondering. I don't mean anything by it, son," Dmitri replied. "I'm just trying to overcome this shock."

"Aren't we all," said Vasily dryly.

"I just don't know how we didn't find out about this sooner," Dmitri said. "You mean to tell me that none of you boys have even seen or spoken to your mother in that long?"

Vasily compressed his lips, he couldn't defend himself and had been internally beating himself up ever since he had received that phone call that morning. None of the things he'd been angry about even seemed to matter anymore. Yet, he had been so insistent that she be the one to cave first. To apologize to him for the extended sentence and for missing her visit with his children. He hadn't even bothered to conceive that her silence could have meant something far more dire than just stubbornness, but he never would have imagined this.

"Well, what's wrong with you?" Vasily asked shortly, "don't you think you deserve some of the blame?"

There was a pause and Vasily resumed his wall sit in the hallway, enjoying the burn in his leg muscles. He could still see what his mother was doing, but so long as she was content he was glad to give her her space. If she stayed this way, he felt he'd be able to manage. Although, it had only been a few hours.

"You could have made your way up to see her anytime you wanted," Vasily pressed. "Last I checked, Pop, your schedule is a hell of a lot more open than mine."

"Your mother decided she didn't want me involved, the day she asked for a divorce," Dmitri replied coolly. "That's not my obligation anymore."

"Oh, bullshit it's not," Vasily snapped. "And we should really question whether she even had the mental capacity to make such a big decision like that. Even so, you were married for thirty-seven years, you don't get a pass."

"What do you want me to do, son?" Dmitri asked in exasperation. "I'm talking to you, I'm supporting you. I'm watching your children-"

"Klara is watching them," Vasily said bitterly. "And you all know how I feel about that."

"You should be grateful," Dmitri told him sternly. "She's never been anything but kind to all of you."

"The last thing I am right now is grateful," Vasily said. "I am….sick to my stomach. I am horrified. I am panicking."

"Then don't turn your nose up at someone offering to help you," Dmitri scolded.

"Papa, will you just come over for a few hours and sit with me?" Vasily pleaded, his tone softer. "I don't want to be alone."

"Lida will be over later," Dmitri replied. "I'll tell her you need her when she wakes up. The kids can spend the night."

"That's not what I'm asking you," Vasily said.

"I just can't," Dmitri admitted quiety. "I don't want to see Galina like that. She wouldn't want me to see her like that either."

"So, you're just never going to come over to my house again?" Vasily asked shortly.

"You'll figure it out," Dmitri told him. "Make some calls tomorrow. You might be able to get her a spot somewhere, or at least put on a waiting list."

"And how can I pay for that?" Vasily asked.

"Call and see what they say first," Dmitri said. "It's just not my place anymore."

"She never would have done that to you," Vasily said, without a shred of doubt. He had been without his mother for a long time, but he still knew that if he had asked for her, she would have been there. If at all possible. She never would have left him alone to take on so much. She had always done everything she could to make it all okay.

"Me and mama aren't alike," Dmitri told him. "That's one of the reasons our marriage didn't work."

"It worked for thirty-seven years," Vasily said, feeling hurt. "Are we really going to play this game?"

"Son-"

"I called into work today," Vasily said quietly. "I don't think I have ever missed a day of work in my life."

"Then they'll surely understand," Dmitri said.

"I told them I won't be in all week," he added. "But what about the week after? What if I don't find somewhere for her to go by then? I can't afford to not work."

"It will work out," Dmitri said. "Call around tomorrow and see what you can come up with. Do you want me to get Lida?"

"No, let her sleep," Vasily replied glummly.

"She went shopping for your mother after she dropped the kids off, did you see what she bought?"

"No, not yet," Vasily replied.

He glanced back into the living room. His daughter's dollhouse was still holding her attention, so he let her be. Walking into the kitchen he saw that Lida had dropped off some shopping bags on the counter. It was a relief to realize that someone's brain was working today. He wouldn't have had a clue where to begin, hadn't even realized yet that his mother would require things that they likely didn't just happen to have lying around the house. Lida had taken care of everything she could think of, in spite of the lack of information they had received about his mother's condition. She had even dug out one of her own winter jackets to share.

"Do you want me to get Klara to pack up some supper for the two of you once it's done?" Dmitri asked.

"Yes," Vasily agreed in resignation. If it got him out of cooking tonight, he would take what he could get. With everything else swirling through his mind, preparing a meal had not even occurred to him. Though he realized now that his mother must be starving.

"Well, you can call me later if you need to talk," Dmitri said, with an air of finality. "I love you."

"Bye," Vasily said flatly.

He hung up and dropped the phone roughly onto the kitchen counter. He buried his face in his hands for a long moment, trying to get control over himself. If he had let himself go for even a moment he might just have cried, but he couldn't. Once he felt that he had regained some control over himself he walked back down the hall to the living room.

He didn't even know where to begin. What a challenge it was to have to anticipate someone else's very basic needs. He could think back now that since he'd collected her, he had drank two glasses of water, gone to the washroom, stretched out his muscles that were stiff from sitting so long in the car, and he was eager for supper to be dropped off because he was starving. She probably felt the same way as him, needed the same things, even if she didn't express it, because she couldn't.

Where was he even supposed to start?

The question was answered for him when he walked back into the living room and saw the puzzle Lida had been close to finishing had been broken apart. His mother had a handful of puzzle pieces and was dropping them one by one onto the floor, watching them fall. Vasily opened up the drawer where they kept all of their puzzles and took out the right box. Then he knelt down on the floor to start cleaning up the dropped pieces, as his mother continued to drop more of them onto his head.

"I think you're going to be more trouble than I ever was," Vasily told her in Russian.

"Definitely channelling Yuri and that time he crashed his remote control helicopter into the cake you had just finished for my birthday.

Vasily closed the lid on the puzzle box once he had collected all the pieces and then went to put it in the drawer again. He hoped Lida wouldn't be too upset. They had far biggers problems anyway, but she had been working on that for months and had kept it high out of reach of the children. It made him realize that if his mother was going to be here long term there were probably so many other things that needed to be put away and safety-proofed. Another task that would have been much easier to complete if they had been given any sort of notice that she was going to be here.

"Here's one you can try," Vasily announced in Russian. He felt he had a much better chance of reaching her if he spoke her native tongue. She looked at him differently when he did. When he spoke in English she didn't even seem to hear him.

He had found an old wooden puzzle his children had mastered before they had learned to walk. It seemed insulting and a bit ridiculous to offer to his mother, but considering the way their other toys had captured her attention he thought it was worth a try. He wasn't wrong. As he set it down on the coffee table and held his hand out to her in invitation to join him.

"Mamushka, come sit with me."

She did.

He let her flip the puzzle over, and obediently picked up the wooden pieces that fell onto the floor. He took her hand and set one piece upright in her grasp. Hand over hand, he helped her guide it into the right place. He let go and watched to see if she would fit another piece without assistance now that he had shown her what to do, instead she flipped the board upside down again. Her mental capacity had declined so severely that she couldn't even complete a puzzle designed for a baby to complete. It was hard to see and even harder to wrap his head around.

"I have no clue what I'm going to do with you," he told her honestly, as he watched her knock more of the pieces onto the floor. He leaned over and one by one picked them back up for her. Their eyes met when he handed them back, and he forced himself not to look away from her even though he wanted to.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" he whispered softly.

"I'm Vasily. I'm your son," he explained, continuing to stare back at her unblinking eyes. He was searching them now. Hoping for a flicker of recognition. To see her love for him in them. Something.

"You're going to have to be patient with me," Vasily continued to speak in Russian. He broke her gaze now, it was too painful to hold for a second longer.

"I have no clue what I'm doing. We're going to have to take this day by day."

He decided to go get her a drink of water which was probably long overdue. Then he could tackle the next thing on the list. It also struck him then that he probably should try and get her in to see an actual doctor as soon as possible. He wondered if you could put your mother on your health insurance, and figured he'd find out in the morning. There were so many things he had to consider and he was completely overwhelmed.

"I love you," he told her before he got up to go into the kitchen. "And I don't know how yet, but I promise I'm going to figure everything out. It's going to be okay….I'm sorry I didn't visit you."

As heavy as his heart had been feeling since he'd learned about her this morning and as worried as he was about what tomorrow was going to bring. Part of him felt lighter just having her there. It was where she was supposed to be. At least she was finally home.