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Red knew that Healy had only been trying to be nice, but his kindness and compassion for her had only been making everything harder. She walked briskly, keeping her head down and her eyes averted until she reached the entry of her dorm and saw, to her immense relief, that it was vacant. Red needed to be alone right now. She needed to at least to attempt to beat down the swirling thoughts in her brain and she needed the opportunity to hate on herself right now in private. She might not be the best at expressing remorse apologetically to others, but internally, she was often brewing a volcano of shame. Especially after what had just transpired.
There was nothing she could consider worse than being a disappointment and failure to her family. Her sons, those three little lives she had grown, nurtured, and ultimately broken the hearts of were suffering right now and there was nothing she could do to ease their pain. Their father was going to die very soon, their mother was in prison, and they were just trying to survive and raise families of their own when they'd been given almost no guidance of any benefit. She hated what was happening to them and how she had let them down again.
As she entered her cube, Red sat down on the hard-plastic chair and leaned forward to begin working her combination lock with mindless fingers. After all these years inside this prison, Red didn't need to think about the numbers that unlocked the little safe that held all her most valuable possessions. Her hands rummaged through stacks of cards, papers, and photographs with an urgency that her brain didn't understand yet. She didn't know what she was searching for or why, except perhaps she was trying to keep busy with something just to keep from falling apart. Her face looked so hard and cold that it could have been etched from stone, but her quivering lips and the glint in her eye would fool nobody. She was glad that she was alone.
Red's lined hand brushed over the certificate of her divorce from Dmitri which her lawyer had mailed to her once everything had been finalized. "Her most prized possession", she had declared it not long ago. Now all she could do was scratch her fingernails over the print of her ex-husband's name. This paper hadn't been the ruin of them, they had been distant in proximity and emotion for many long lonely years. She'd lost him a long time ago, perhaps she had never even had him. Their marriage had begun as little more than an arrangement and ultimately it had never really grown from that. She'd never thought it would end quite this badly though, with no closure or reconciliation. It was just over.
Red found a stack of old photographs that she had tucked away in the back. Some of them were shiny and unbent, mainly shots of her grandchildren and a few from Yuri and Anna's wedding. Some were frayed and creased-the result of being stored for years inside an old prison locker instead of an album. They were the ones that had either been brought in by herself or sent by Dmitri shortly after her arrival. There were several candids of Red's three sons at different stages of their lives.
As a new inmate, Red had spent hours pouring over them as if she'd never have a chance to see them again. She'd stare at them intently, memorizing every feature of her beautiful boys like she used to do when she was home and would go into their bedroom and watch them sleep. She'd run her finger over Vasily's dark hair, glossy in print, down Maxim's cherub cheeks that, to his dismay, he had never outgrown, and tap a fingernail against the collar of Yuri's shirt and wonder why she hadn't fixed it for him before taking the picture that day. She'd missed them fiercely for so long, and still did of course. Except the sad reality of such a long imprisonment and separation from her children had meant she had gradually gotten used to it and adjusted to her new normal. They were used to her being gone too, she knew, and didn't agonize over it much anymore. Except at times like today, when they were suffering beyond words and knew having her close would have made a difference. That's when she was forced to face her failures as a mother.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, Red closed the door to her safe and then slowly got up from her chair and moved over to sit down on the edge of her cot. Bringing one hand up to run down her face in an almost comforting motion, Red reached down her torso until she gripped the earpiece of her glasses and set them on the bridge of her nose.
It had been awhile since she had flipped through these images. She had her family in here, her girls, and especially Nicky-always Nicky-to distract herself from her own thoughts whenever she'd been having a particularly hard day. Despite her sadness, Red's lips curved ever so slightly at the thought of her most special girl, who had only been in her life now for a couple of years but who occupied a place Red's heart right next to Yuri, Maxim, and Vasily.
As she silently looked through the images of her boys, Red couldn't help bemoaning the fact that she didn't have one of Nicky as a child to include with it. She'd never even seen a picture of what Nicky had looked like when she was small, although she could imagine it. Unruly curls and big brown eyes that always made her look both innocent and mischievous at the same time. Someday she'd have to get her hands on a shot of the real thing. For now, she'd have to be content with the present because, even when it didn't feel like it, it really had only been a short while since Nicky had become hers.
It was times like this that forced Red to remember the difference between Nicky and her sons that she usually forgot about or disregarded. That she'd only known Nicky for a couple of years and in a prison away from the lives they both had left behind and the people they were on the outside. It didn't usually matter anyway, the future they were looking ahead to was what was important. But it suddenly struck Red just how many sides of herself Nicky had never experienced before. Dmitri was nobody to Nicky, but he meant everything to Red's three sons. Red wanted to share and include Nicky in every part of the family now that she was hers, but there were some things she couldn't understand. Red couldn't open up to her about something she hadn't even begun to process herself.
As though she had sensed Red thinking about her, Nicky came walking through the quiet dorms with her boots thudding with every step. She paused in the entry of Red's cube and waited for Red to tear her eyes up from the photograph she was holding between two shaking hands and look at her.
"Hey, Ma," she greeted her cheerfully. She tried not to let her astonishment at the lost and broken look on her mother's face show. Red looked like she had aged ten years since leaving the kitchen that morning.
"Nicky," Red said weakly, "what are you-aren't you supposed to be working?"
"I have to go take that test in a few minutes," Nicky reminded her, as she sat herself comfortably down on the cot beside her mother. "Should be a cinch, compared to trying to help Gloria with basic math. I tell you, Ma, I earned every single one of those smarties she gave me."
She chuckled lightly as she raised her eyebrows expectantly for some form of response from her mother. Red was looking at her but with eyes that seemed unseeing and a million miles away. After a few moments of silence, Red seemed to finally become aware of the fact that Nicky was waiting for her to respond. Seeking some from of reassurance that all was well, or at least an explanation as to what the problem was.
"What?" Red blinked.
"You're not listening to me at all, are you?" Nicky complained, arching her back against the
partial wall dividing the cubes. "I'm guessing Healy didn't just want your company for a cup of tea, huh?"
"Hmm," Red grumbled. She dropped the photograph down onto her lap and then scratched at an itch of the tip of her nose.
"What happened, Ma?" Nicky asked expectantly. "Talk to me."
"Not right now, Nicky," Red said testily. "Maybe you should just go do your test?"
"It's not until after lunch," Nicky reminded her. "And Gloria said she'd thought you'd be back by now to help prepare it-"
"I know, I know, you don't actually cook the food," she said quickly, holding her hand up before Red could speak.
"I'm taking lunch off," Red said dryly, her lips pursing at Nicky's jest.
"Okay," Nicky nodded, as she lifted both legs and rested her heels on the steel edge of Red's bed frame. "But why?"
"Nicky," Red sighed, reaching her hand up to grip at her short locks of hair.
"Mmm," she grumbled, not sure how to go about this or escape this unwanted conversation. She didn't want to share, to reflect more deeply upon something that was causing her such misery. She didn't want to invite sympathy for herself, even from someone she loved and trusted as much as Nicky, because she wanted to feel terrible and alone right now. She didn't think she deserved the chance to be a mother and receive love from Nicky, when she was prevented from being there for the sons who needed her because of her own mistakes all those years ago.
"What were you looking at just now, Ma?" Nicky asked, changing the subject as she perceptively sensed Red withdrawing deeper and deeper into herself. Nicky knew she wasn't going to get anywhere by asking Red what was wrong. She leaned her head over, resting her chin lightly on Red's shoulder as her eyes flashed down to the photograph Red had dropped face up onto her lap.
Red's head bowed down to look at the picture again herself. "Just the boys," she said, her tone slightly shaky as she held it out in offering for Nicky to inspect.
It was ironic, she now realized, how few of Dmitri and her together there were. Not because they didn't exist somewhere, probably tucked away in a photo album no one bothered to look at anymore. However, aside from a few family shots that included all five of them, there were none of him here. Red hadn't brought any to the prison when she'd surrendered and Dmitri hadn't bothered to send her ones of himself either. It was quite telling. Their long marriage had never invoked that sort of sentimentality in either of them, it seemed. Or maybe once upon a time it had, before they'd both just given up.
"You miss them?" Nicky guessed correctly, watching the way Red's eyelashes flickered spontaneously at the question. She herself didn't often pay too much mind to how difficult it must be for Red to be away from her children. Nicky wasn't a mother after all, and there was nobody in her own family or past friendships that evoked such strong emotion from herself. Nicky didn't even think there was anybody on the outside she would be inclined to look up once she got out of this place. For her, Red was everything. Galina Reznikov had singularly filled the void of everything that had always been lacking in Nicky's life before. It was a difficult acceptance that she alone could never be enough to fulfill Red in return. Red had three sons who mattered to her just as much as Nicky and being separated from them must be hell.
"Of course, I do," Red said softly, voice barely above a whisper. "Nicky, it's just-"
"This is at Coney Island, right?" Nicky verified, talking over Red before she could try and send her off somehow. She strongly sensed that there was something much deeper going on here and she didn't want to leave Red alone to handle it when they could be there together.
"My nanny took me there one time when I was eight," Nicky said as she deposited the photograph back onto the stack on Red's lap, "but I think it would have been more fun to go with all of you."
When she saw the corners of Red's mouth begin to tug threateningly at her words, a large grin lit up Nicky's face which could rival the ones of the three happy boys in the picture. Nicky knew that she had been born into a life of privilege that Red's sons would never have known. Yuri, Maxim, and Vasily had grown up all sharing one small room, while Nicky's large bedroom had included a walk-in closet and ensuite. And yet, despite her own luxuries, Nicky couldn't help but envy the simple upbringing they had experienced. She'd doubted they'd have ever been lonely, like she had so often been. Nicky would have loved to have siblings and she could only imagine how much happier she would have been if Red had always been her mom. Instead of live-in hired help to make her school lunches and read her bedtime stories, she'd have been lavished with attention from a woman who cherished her. What a difference it would have made if she had had a safe person to go to for some kind words, affection, and a little guidance when it was needed. Nicky probably would have been on a very different path right now if that had been the case.
"I took them there every summer, the weekend in August before school resumed," Red told her softly. "They loved it. We'd go on rides at the midway all day and then walk along the boardwalk, and I'd let them eat junk food from the concession stands."
"Nice," Nicky chuckled. "I can imagine the look on your face while you paid for corn dogs and snow cones for them. Did their Dad go too?"
"Dmitri?" Red's voice cracked, as Nicky's innocent question jolted her back to the reality of the current situation. A chill crawled up her spine and she felt her lips quiver. She shook her head.
"No," she croaked. "No, he didn't."
"Not his thing?" Nicky asked curiously, her forehead creasing in concern as she regarded her mother.
"Not really," Red cleared her throat. "He came once. I believe Vasily was still a baby, if I'm remembering correctly. Anyway, it didn't go well so after that I just took the boys myself."
"Probably had a better time without him though," Nicky said logically.
"Well, yes," Red scoffed. "Sadly, that's true."
"I remember how I used to wish Marka was there until she'd show up and then I'd realize I had more fun without her," Nicky confessed. "I was pretty attached to my first nanny until she quit or got fired, around the time I began kindergarten. After that it was just a steady flow of new faces showing up in the kitchen to make me pancakes in the morning."
"I'm sorry, honey," Red said with a heavy sigh. She leaned back until she was also resting against the partial wall with Nicky. "I don't understand how a parent can be that way…"
"Well, that's because you're a good mother," Nicky replied. She turned her head to kiss Red's shoulder through her shirt.
"I tried…" Red said quietly. "I guess that's why my boys were always more attached to me than their father. He was a bit like your mother, I guess, he didn't spend very much time with his children, early on at least. Once I got...once I came here, he got much more involved. And the boys, they loved their father very much."
"Loved?" Nicky repeated. "Past tense?"
"He died," Red said bluntly, "Or he will be soon. I don't know if they have turned off his life support yet, only that they were going to."
She brought her hand up to cover her quivering lips and her eyes widened at the shock at having spoken the words out loud. They sounded foreign on her tongue and left a bad taste in her mouth. This all felt like a horrible dream she would soon wake up from. It didn't seem real that such things could be happening when she sat inside this prison's plain monotonous walls cut off from everything. It was a harsh wake up that the world she had left would not be the world she would be released to in a couple years. Nothing would be the same again, and the partner Red had shared her life with since she was a young woman was gone forever.
"Oh, mom," Nicky said, looking stunned at this revelation. She placed her hand on Red's arm and squeezed her tightly. "Why didn't you tell me this right away? Are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Red said, far too quickly to be believable.
"No, you're not," Nicky argued her. "Do you want me to get you anything?"
Red shook her head as she began rubbing her throat compulsively, making it difficult for Nicky to maintain the hold she had on her arm. Slowly, Nicky released her hand and settled for moving closer to Red on the cot. Nicky wasn't sure what she was supposed to say or do. Red wasn't an easy person to comfort. If Nicky asked her what she wanted, she would probably just say to be alone and that wasn't about to happen. So, Nicky didn't say anything. She just sat there silently while their thighs and shoulders touched and Red pursed her lips uneasily.
"Maybe you should call the boys," Nicky suggested after a few more minutes. "If I was them, I'd want to talk to you."
"Well, they don't," Red said stiffly. "I already spoke to Yuri and he could hardly wait to get me off the phone. And Vasily and Maxim-they didn't even speak to me."
"Okay, well maybe they need some time," Nicky conceded quietly, not wishing to rile Red up about a sensitive subject. "Just promise me you'll check in with them tomorrow? And in the meantime, we can-"
"I think I'll go to work," Red interrupted, shifting closer to the edge of the cot again. "I shouldn't just be sitting here while Gloria and the others are left to do everything."
"I think Gloria can handle it," Nicky exhaled deeply. "And I think you need to just sit here and just chill out a little more. Your husband just-"
"Ex-husband," Red corrected.
"He's been your ex for about two and a half minutes," Nicky rolled her eyes. "You two were married for most of your life."
"And then I got sent to prison," Red snapped. "So, I don't see a sense in sitting around mourning for a man who played a strong hand in basically everything bad that has happened to me."
"Alright," Nicky conceded, holding her hands up in surrender. She sat up straighter and watched through her big brown eyes as Red sprung up from the bed like she had suddenly been jolted by a great burst of energy.
"If you're going to the kitchen, will you tell Gloria to make sure I get a yogurt, or an extra bag of crackers, or something edible with lunch?" she asked, while Red ran a brush through her hair and then checked her makeup in the mirror she kept by her locker.
Red barely formulate a response before she left the cube in a flurry, as though there was nothing else occupying her thoughts. Nicky supposed she must be the sort of person who just needs to stay busy and distracted when going through something devastating like a death in the family. She refused to accept that Red felt nothing for the man she had once married and then built a family with.
Nicky slumped back against the wall and glanced around Red's space lazily. She was in no hurry to go anywhere, although lunch would be served soon and her friends would come looking for her. She needed a moment before that happened, perhaps she was taking it because Red wouldn't. Nicky could feel a knot welling in her stomach and a pang of grief that didn't really make sense. She had only caught fleeting glimpses of Red's husband through the visitation window before he'd stopped coming and the way his wife had described him had never been remotely flattering. However, Nicky was interested in him; the family patriarch, and someone she knew Yuri, Maxim, Vasily, and even Red, cared deeply about. Through them, Nicky felt like she was also somehow connected to Dmitri and she was sorry that he had died.
Reaching for the stack of photographs Red had set on her locker before departing, Nicky settled herself more comfortably on the cot and crossed her legs. Looking through Red's private pictures did not seem at all like an intrusion, as it might have been if it had been anybody else. For Nicky, it held the intrigue of a teenage girl coming across her mother's high school yearbooks and realizing that she had once been in her shoes. Nicky wanted to know and understand Red better. She studied each picture carefully, noting the expressions on their faces, the background, and how they seemed to all relate to one another. Nicky saw a happy family, and even though she knew their marriage had been far from perfect, Nicky thought the smile on Red's face, as she looked at her husband over the heads of the three boys standing between them, was sincere. Red would probably have denied it if she was shown that photo right now, but without doubt Nicky knew that Red grieved this life and subsequently would mourn for the man she had shared it with. She just hoped it was something Red would one day admit on her own.