justlikewedo: I leave you with cliffhangers, my wonderful beta, because I want you to READ more, though I know that when I leave you hanging it borders on being cruel. Thanks for the review
brainDamage089: Yes, cliffhangers are mean, only because you know that there's more coming. Thanks for the review
csd11242: I'm so glad you enjoyed the last two chapters, and see, I updated :). Hooray for more goalies! Goalies make it fun:)
shariena: Always nice to see a new reviewer, and I'm very glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Enjoy this one too.
80808080880080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080800880
I know you'll never count the tears you've cried
Though you've asked a million questions
No one could tell you why
A single soul is chosen to be the one put to the test
But there will be some consolation for a heart that never rests
Something Beautiful- Great Big Sea
808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080800808080808
That single statement was enough to convince Jimmy to pull her into his arms and hug her tightly. What had happened to her made his tragedy seem miniscule. What kind of father wishes an abortion upon his wife, saying it would be better if their child had never been conceived? That was one blow, but finding out that you had a brother in the Soviet Union, one of the best hockey players in the world, and had never known he existed?
He could feel the wall around Tanya's heart suddenly burst, and floods of tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I'm a disappointment..." she muttered.
"Tanya, listen to me," he put finger under her chin and had her tilt to look at him. "No matter what happened when you were younger, you're not a disappointment." The tears still ran down her cheeks, Jimmy fighting the urge to wipe them away with his thumb.
Finally, the urge won out, and slowly, he ran his thumb down her cheeks, the tear streaks still visible against her now pale skin.
It was then that she saw a shadow disappear down the hall.
She swore under her breath in Russian.
Letting go of Jim, she turned away from him and ran out toward the disappearing figure.
Upon reaching the apartment, she opened the door to find Lacey tapping her foot against the floor, her anger threatening to spill over.
Вы шлюха! Вы хуже, чем Ваш отец (You whore! You're worse than your father)
"Excuse me?"
"I saw what you were doing back there! In the arms of a Boston University hockey player! Делает мне, что рвота" (Makes me want to vomit)
Позволяет вы хотите рвота? Кто девушку винтов хоккей игрока от UNH? Ах нет, подождите, извините, как ВЕСЬ о хоккейной команде? Я даже не удивлюсь, если Вы не болезни сейчас!" (Makes you want to vomit? Who's the girl screwing the hockey player from UNH? Oh no, wait, sorry, how about the ENTIRE hockey team? I'd be surprised if you didn't have a disease by now!)
Tanya knew Lacey had never done such a thing, but to hear those hateful words come out of her mouth had become the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Tanya didn't deserve to be branded a whore, and she wasn't going to stand for it. If Lacey thought she was dirt, then fine. All Tanya knew was that she was getting out of the apartment and getting out now. She went into the bathroom and locked herself in.
They say running is good for you, good for your heart, good for your cardiovascular system.
But not if you're trying to run from your past.
It seemed to be all she did these days, trying to run from her past, and then trying to run from what was important to her. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror anymore, and if she couldn't do that what was the point of trying?
Forcing herself to look in the mirror, she swung her arm forward and into the door.
She was sure she'd heard bones breaking.
Tanya didn't even stop to look at Lacey as she went out the door and to her car. She drove until she reached the Nagobads' house. She saw that there was still a light on in the basement apartment, but it was still too late to knock on the door without waking everyone in the house.
But instead of going back to the apartment she shared with Lacey, she crawled into the back seat of her car, grabbed a blanket from the back and slept.
When she awoke she was still incredibly tired, and not able to eat. Upon turning the key in the ignition, she took a look at the clock and saw that she was over an hour late.
"Shit, I was supposed to meet Herb over an hour ago!" Putting a hand on the steering wheel, she felt an incredible pain go through her hand. She screamed and bit down on her lip so no one else could hear her.
Putting the car into gear, she drove to the university and caught Herb just as they were heading off the ice to screen a film. The projector... the few, the proud, the...
Criminally insane, for sure. Herb had them screening film of the Sovet hockey team, to better understand how they were going to play, and how they were going to beat them at their own game.
"Vladislav Tretiak," Herb came to the goaltender. "If you score on him, keep the puck, because it doesn't happen often," with this statement he eyed Jimmy, who stared back.
The slide seemed to go in slow motion in front of Tanya's eyes. There he was... Vladislav Tretiak... Soviet goaltender...
Her brother.
"Tanya?" Doc Nagobads interrupted her thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Perhaps I should take a look at that hand of yours."
"No need, Doc, I'm not staying long."
"Now really, I insist," Doc waved her over. "Come, come. It won't take very long."
Obediently, she followed, though she could see in his eyes that he knew something was wrong. Why would she suddenly show up again at Christmas, and now with a hand that looked to be out of commission if something were not right? He'd seen her waiting outside in her car the night before as well, and he needed to know why.
As she met him in his office, he sat her down and closed the door behind them.
"Come," he mentioned to her hand.
She lfited said body part to him. She winced as his fingers worked through her knuckles and fingers.
"Well, it is not broken, but I must ask, what did you do?"
"Lacey and I had a row," she explained, hoping Doc knew who Lacey was. "A really big screaming match. We said some pretty awful things to each other, Doc," she paused. "And instead of swinging out and hitting her, I went into the washroom and hit the door in anger."
He eyed her suspiciously.
"There is something else you are not telling me," he insisted.
She exhaled sharply.
"When I went home before Christmas," she started, "I came across an old letter my father had written to a young boy still in the Soviet Union..."
Doc waited patiently.
"And when I read the letter it was signed, "Your father, Vladislav Kovalev." I suppose that's how the boy's mother had known my father, and though he never sent it, I confronted my mother about what I'd found."
"And what did she tell you?"
"She told me that I should mind my own business and that I shouldn't be meddling in things that are long buried and over with."
"But why is this letter so important?"
"Because it is addressed to my brother."
"I was not aware that you had a brother."
"I wasn't either, until I found this letter," she pulled the yellowing paper from her pocket and handed it to the doctor.
Upon reading it, his mouth fell open.
July 22, 1957
Vladislav, it read.
You have never met me, and I have never met you, though your mother sends me photographs of you every Christmas. Why, you may ask? Because I am your father, Vladislav. You were named for me.
I cannot tell you how proud I am that you are growing to be so big! She tells me that you are almost five years old now, and that you are playing more and more hockey.
You like to play goalie, yes? I thought so, your mother says it is all she can do to keep you away from the ice and in a classroom so that you can learn. Remember, learning how to count to one hundred and fifty nine is as important as learning how to keep a puck out of the net.
If you ask your mother why I am not in the Soviet Union anymore, she will tell you that I have married another, and any day now she is going to have a baby. She told me she is going to have a baby girl, though I have told her this was not something I wanted.
I want to come back to your mother, so that I may watch you grow and watch how well you play goalie. It is a horrible thing to say, because I know that I should not have done what I did. I had promised myself that I would not have children, because I do not want them to suffer as I did.
Grow strong, Vladislav, so that one day, you may make your mother proud.
Your father,
Vladislav Kovalev
"Oh, I see," Doc Nagobads nodded his head.
"Two days after that was written, I was born and he committed suicide. Since then, I've always felt responsible," she bit her lip. "It's just, I felt so guilty for leaving the team the way I did, I had to come back once more."
He nodded again.
"Doc, I have to go back... to the Soviet Union."
"I am sure everyone will insist that you belong here, with us," he handed the letter back to her and watched as she pushed the letter into her pocket.
"No, Doc, I'm Russian, and my place is with the Russian hockey team. I've destroyed my chances of becoming the PR agent for this team, and my being here is only distracting the players from what they need the most."
Doc's eyes told the story of the year.
"You understand, don't you?" Tanya asked. "I had to come back, to say goodbye."
She went to open the door and turned to look at the doctor once again. "Thanks for patching up my hand."
He gave her a small smile.
8080808808808080080080808080808080808080808008080808080808080808080808080808080808080808080808
Jim Craig awoke the next morning to find that a note had been slipped beneath the basement door, addressed to him. She was certain that there was no one else in the house besides himself, Doc, and Velma, so only one of them could have done so.
Opening the envelope, he pulled out a hand-scrawled note, from none other than Tanya Burnaby.
Jim, it read.
I'm so sorry to have to do it this way, but it is the only way I know I will be able to do so without dissolving into a blubbering, quivering mess.
The truth is, Jimmy, that I don't belong here with you guys. You mean the world to me, certainly, but here is not my place.
My place is in Russia, with the Soviet hockey team. Please don't take this as rejection or as a tip that I do not care for you, because I do. After much consideration, I've decided that it is what is best. For me, for you, and the team.
I must ask that you don't try to find me, Jim Craig, because once I am back in Russia, it would be about as likely as finding a needle in a haystack.
Perhaps I shall see you in Lake Placid, though I am certain it will not be whilst I am standing behind your team's bench.
Tanya Burnaby.