Chapter 5

 

 

For Stefani, going to Portland for a day trip was never a simple matter. The arrangements were easy enough. Why wouldn’t they be, with her resources? That wasn’t the problem. No, Stefani’s problem was that trips to a city any bigger than humble Salem made the acid in her stomach bubble and her nerves turn to the heavens with their pleas.

It’s all right. It’s for Yulia. You need to get out of the house more, anyway. Stefani had enough sources of anxiety in her life. When she wasn’t fretting over the company, she was keeping tabs on her wayward brother and overseeing the goings on in her own house. Now that she had a wedding to plan and a fiancée to keep happy…

They cruised up I5 early Sunday afternoon, rain dripping down the windows and Stefani’s eyes decidedly not on the road. Ever since her parents died on this very stretch of road, she had a special soft spot for the crippling anxiety that occasionally came from riding in the back of a car going nearly eighty miles per hour. Tobias may have been an expert driver – God knew Stefani paid him enough – but nobody could make her feel secure. Not even the seatbelt strapped across her chest or the breathing meditation exercises she employed as they went around a large curve.

“This countryside is very beautiful,” Yulia said from the other seat. Unlike Stefani, she kept her face pointed toward the window. “Very green. Very natural. Reminds me of parts of home.”

“I remember your area having a lot of natural areas, yes,” Stefani said.

Yulia glanced at her. “Are you okay? You look like… I don’t know how to say… sick in the car.”

“I’m not carsick,” Stefani said. “I’m anxious.”

“Why? Do you not like where we are going?” Yulia held up the map on her phone. Tobias already had the destination plugged into the car’s GPS system. “Sometimes I notice that you fret like a little bird. Maybe there is something I don’t know. Perhaps I should say ignorance is bliss. Is that how that goes?”

“Yes.” Stefani forced a sigh out of her lungs as she fished for the over the counter supplements in her bag. “I’m sorry, Yulia. I have anxiety over the most nonsense things. I’ve always been like this.” She grabbed her bottled water out of its holder and swallowed an ashwagandha tablet. “Ever since I can remember. Believe it or not, I’m actually… better now.” God, was she. There were times in her childhood where she spent whole months enduring homeschool with her mother so she wouldn’t have to go to school with her so-called peers. Once, when her mother took her shopping at the mall, twelve-year-old Stefani hid in the changing room at Wet Seal because there were too many people and everything was dirty. The only thing Stefani hated more than crowds was dirty crowds. She often refused to go out during flu season.

“People get anxiety. Maybe we should listen to some radio? Ah, I want to listen to American radio.”

Stefani nodded, although not in agreement. “Tobias?” she politely requested. “Could you turn on the radio?”

Much to her pleasure, it was already set to NPR. Probably not what Yulia had in mind, but it did soothe Stefani for a whole two minutes before the news bulletin began.

“Officials in Seattle have announced America’s first positive coronavirus case…”

“Turn it off,” Stefani snapped. “I don’t want to hear anything about a virus now.”

Yulia’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before looking out the window again. So. Embarrassing. Stefani didn’t want her fiancée to see this side to her yet. Maybe ever. The germophobic, anxiety-riddled woman who probably has agoraphobia, too. Stefani didn’t know where one ended and the other began. Every time she got close enough to a therapist to work out some of her greater issues, something fell through.

The car ride was the longest time Stefani had with Yulia thus far, yet she couldn’t bring herself to open up or ask any questions of her own fiancée. It wasn’t because of Tobias’s presence, either. I am too anxious to ask. Yulia was so cool and at peace with her lot in life. For fuck’s sake, she’s not into me. Merely using me for the visa to be closer to her brother. Stefani knew what she was getting into with this deal, but she still admonished herself for having a crush on the woman who would soon be her wife.

Imagine that. A crush on my wife. Here was hoping meeting the brother would be quick and painless.

Stefani had to close her eyes as they weaved into Portland’s chaotic traffic. The way the interstates piled on top of each other in confusing splits, exits, and layered bridges across the rivers made Stefani’s head spin. Yulia probably thought it was quaint compared to St. Petersburg. Stefani never asked. As long as she kept her eyes shut and the car was quiet, she would survive until they pulled into a neighborhood and attempted to find parking. A futile effort, considering they were in one of the trendier areas of town. Tobias had to settle for pulling up into a loading zone while Yulia and Stefani helped themselves out of the car.

Ivan asked to meet them in a teashop that offered views of the street, which should have soothed Stefani’s anxious soul. They weren’t eye-level with pedestrians, right?

Except the place was packed. Sunday. Go figure.

“My, my.” Yulia looked around the café, pulling off her mittens and scarf. “Isn’t this something? So many people in one place. How can I find my brother here? We’re already five minutes late.”

Stefani pushed past her before the people behind them insisted on shoving them out of the way. “How about I order us some tea while you look for him? What kind…”

“Yulia!”

Everyone in the front of the teashop hushed their conversations and looked toward the back of the store. A large, hairy man clad in a navy blue sweater and a pair of glasses waved both arms in the air. Stefani took a step back, hand on her weary heart. Yulia, on the other hand, took a step forward with a glint in her eyes.

“Ivan!”

Yulia rushed across the room, dodging tables, outstretched legs, and a server carrying a pot of hot tea. Stefani nearly fainted where she stood. Everything here is making it hard to breathe… Yet when Yulia ran into her brother’s arms and gave him a big, boisterous hug that concluded with happy kisses to the cheeks, she felt a little better.

“Excuse me.” A woman in flannel and leggings urged Stefani to get out of her way. Right. Stefani was oh so helpfully standing right next to the trash.

Begrudgingly, she carved her own path between tables and people having animated conversations or staring intently at laptop screens. How can they work in a place like this? Stefani needed absolute silence and privacy. Maybe an opened window, if it wasn’t too noisy outside. Which was all right at this time of year, but absolutely hell in the summer and fall.

The closer she came to Yulia and Ivan, the more she realized they looked alike in interesting ways. Nobody would confuse them for twins, but they had the same rounded chin, sparkling gray eyes, and a posture that suggested they had been granted a parental role model who set a true standard for keeping one’s chin high. Stefani was also grateful to see a genuine warmth blossom between them. She was the first to decry ethnic stereotypes, but she had always heard that Russian people came off as cold and distant, even around “their own families,” as one person had put it when she told them she was marrying Yulia. Yet here Stefani’s fiancée was, putting those rumors to bed as she hugged her half-brother and pulled away with a giant smile on her face.

“Stefani!” Yulia opened an arm to Stefani as well. Were they supposed to hug? Stefani wasn’t opposed, but… We’ve never embraced like this before… Now, in front of all these strangers, in a town she usually avoided, Stefani joined the group hug that still kept her and Ivan at a respectful distance. “This is my brother, Ivan.” She jabbed a finger right into his big, broad chest that looked like it hauled some heavy weight around for half the day. “I haven’t seen him in so long!” Her giddiness had her switching to Russian, which perked her brother’s interest and completely shut out her fiancée.

That was fine. This reunion wasn’t about Stefani. “I’ll go get us a menu. Unless you already know what you want?” She noticed that Ivan already had a half-empty drink on his table. “The chai here is really good, if you want something hot.”

“Yes, chai is fine. Thank you so much, Stefani.” Yulia turned her whole body toward her brother as they sat at the table by one of the windows. Stefani braved the crowds of students to return to the long line forming toward the door. She picked up one of the small menus and attempted to focus on what she might like to order. Not happening with so much going on around her at once.

This is why I told my mother we should get bodyguards. When Stefani’s anxiety was at a fever pitch, she became more convinced that everyone around her wanted to rob her, kidnap her, anything that might mean the end of her pitiful existence. PTSD? Why not. She probably needed a heavier dose, anyway.

People crowded in around her to create more room in such a small space. Couples and groups of friends loudly talked over one another. Stefani slowly read through the descriptions of black teas, herbal teas, chais, green teas… she even turned to the boba tea menu, although she had little interest in such things. Chai. Get us both a chai. She likes chai. You like chai. Take some selfies for your memories… and for immigration…

She closed her eyes after putting down the menu. Every few seconds she peeked one open to see if it was time to move up in the line. Her wallet was firmly entrenched beneath her arm. Every inch of her body was so tense that she almost forgot how to breathe. Remember your exercises. More than one therapist had helped her develop breathing and mindfulness skills to keep her grounded when anxiety got the best of her. It was still difficult to employ such a thing when surrounded by so many people.

She stuttered her way through her order and picked up some sweets for good measure. As she walked away with her small plate of goodies, she heaved a heavenly sigh of relief that she no longer had to deal with lines.

Yulia and Ivan’s loud voices directed her back to their seats. Yulia was still a font of smiles as she slapped her hand on the table and her brother said – in Russian, of course – something that had them both laughing. Stefani shyly smiled as she sat down next to her fiancée and gestured for everyone to help themselves to the colorful cookies.

“My brother was telling me about his neighbor on the Eastside. How do you say the neighborhood again, Ivan?”

“I live between Buckman and Hawthorne,” he said to Stefani. “Rent is awful now, but the community is still good. Although not so many Russians live there now. Many moved farther toward 82nd. Maybe Gresham. Although I know some fancy enough to live around here or down in Lake Oswego.”

Although Yulia laughed, she quickly said, “I don’t know what those places are. You have to show me.”

“There is plenty of time for you to know Portland.”

“See?” Yulia put a hand on Stefani’s shoulder. “He has been in America for so long that his accent is perfect. One day, I will be so good.”

Stefani smiled back at her. I still hear a slight accent. Barely noticeable, but one of those things she heard from the moment it pinged her radar. I barely know about these neighborhoods he is talking about. She was aware of the bustling Russian immigrant population in Oregon, making it the third most spoken language in the state, but that was it. She didn’t know where they tended to live, what religion they practiced, or where to get the best, most authentic food. I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon enough.

“My sister flatters me,” Ivan said, “because she is so happy to see me. Maybe she wants to meet my wife, and knows that if she is so nice to me, I will let her meet Maria.”

“I have never met your wife in person,” Yulia interjected. “It’s only right I meet the woman who has married my brother.”

“How did you two meet?” Stefani asked.

“We were introduced by a mutual friend. Actually, her cousin. He knew I was looking for somebody, and she was looking for somebody… natural, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. That’s how Yulia and I basically met.”

An awkward laugh surfaced in the middle of the table. It came from Yulia, who quickly changed the subject before her brother could start asking questions.

It was then that Stefani realized he did not yet know that they were engaged. That this small, socially awkward woman in a nice dress and carrying a Chanel purse was about to marry his little sister, who was fresh off the plane from St. Petersburg.

Nothing shut Stefani up quite like that.