Stan

Nothing was more wonderful than coming home. The children were all happy to see us. Even Pavel clambered up to sit on Erik’s lap to watch a movie the night we returned. Noah took some offense to that, and a small shoving match broke out until I swooped the jealous little rabbit up and cuddled with him on my lap. I felt Pavel and Erik needed time to bond, as the difficulty with communicating was perhaps making my beloved feel left out. Noah settled down after a soft but firm whisper, and we all enjoyed Milo and Otis a great deal. That night, after the children were asleep, I made love to Erik, quietly, in the shower of our master bath. His cries of passion were buried in my shoulder. We tumbled into bed, exhausted but sated, our underwear clinging to our still damp skin.

The following morning, Sunday, Mama rapped on our door strongly at six in the morning.

“Make for to wear Sunday best clothes,” she shouted, and then went down the hall, waking the children for church.

“Muffle donuts,” Erik said into his pillow.

I rolled to my side, pulled him close, and dozed off. Five minutes later, Mama was hammering at the door again, startling us both badly.

“Church time. Get up or find foot in lazybone ass!”

“Her grasp of English cursing is improving by leaps and bounds,” Erik grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Oh, yes, we Russians are experts at making cussing,” I replied around a yawn. I lay there watching the flow of his muscles as he stretched his arms over his head. He was so beautiful, so toned, and so marked as mine. I touched the love bite on his side. He jerked and snorted and rolled out of bed. “You are the most beautiful man on this world. I love you so much. My love is so big.”

He smiled sweetly down at me. “My love for you is big as well,” he said, just as three children thundered past our bedroom door, shouting about who got the purple spoon for their oatmeal. “And my love for them is big, too.”

“As is mine. How do they wake up running? This is quite a question that I needs reply to.” I sighed, kicking off the covers and planting my feet on the floor.

Erik laughed. Then we went down to have oatmeal and toast. Galina and Arvy were meeting us at the Rose of Beulah Baptist Church, so they got to avoid the madcap meal. It seemed all meals were loud now. I loved it.

I was wiping the mess off of Noah’s face when someone knocked on the door. Knowing it was not my sister and her husband, I gave Erik a confused glance, handed him the wet washcloth, and stood, pulling the sash of my winter robe tight around my waist. At the door stood a slim woman, dark-skinned, with short black hair and an air of authority. She looked familiar.

“Hello, Mr. Lyamin. Do you remember me?”

“I think I should, but no. Sorry for that.”

She smiled up at me. “That’s fine. I know your life has been hectic since the children arrived. I’m Clarice Rose, from the Pennsylvania Department of Children, Youth, and Family Services. I’ve been assigned to assist and advocate for you and your partner in any post-adoption manners that you may need assistance with. Your final hearing isn’t until the end of the year, but I’m here to do an unscheduled placement visit. May I come in?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Clarice Rose, I remember now. Come in. We are just eating breakfast before church. You come with us to church!” I was happy to show Miss Rose our church. And our house and anything else she needed to see. Erik meandered out, hair rumpled, whiskery, with Noah on his hip. So beautiful my man and son were it took my breath away sometimes. When he saw Miss Rose, his blue eyes rounded. “Erik, Miss Rose from the Children Office of Family Planning is here for visit! She is going to church with us. There we will all sing and make good with God. Mama! Miss Rose from Family Planning is here! Get her bowl of oatmeal!”

“Stan, it’s not family planning,” Erik whispered as I tugged Miss Rose into the kitchen to see the children. “It’s child services, or something.”

I led her to a seat beside Eva. She seemed as if she were winded from running when she sat down. Mama placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of our guest and directed Miss Rose to eat, in Russian. I nodded and smiled. And Miss Rose had a hearty breakfast and then went with us to church, even though she was not so sure at first, but I talked her into it. She sat next to me looking very tiny.

A lot of singing and dancing took place, as did serious praying and asking God to bless those who are sick, hungry, and hurting. Again, the prickle of my family back in Russia nipped at me. Here I sat, in a fancy suit, with my sweet Erik, our beautiful children, Mama, my sister and her husband, and Miss Rose, without a care in the world. We had so much. I needed to find a way to help poor children in my homeland but had no idea how. I decided, as the chorus jumped into When I Get in Glory and Noah and I began to wiggle in our seats, that I would talk with Erik and then Layton Foxx. Perhaps the Railers would wish to set up something. Maybe a hockey tournament or a charitable foundation of some sort. The music was taking over my soul, so I stopped thinking and let the Holy Spirit make me sing and dance with Miss Rose.

And when Miss Rose left, she was happy and said we were doing much good things.

The following day, a Monday morning, I burst into Layton’s office, smiling, with a large cup of decaf coffee in hand. Layton stared up from the laptop he was tapping away on, his slim eyebrows drawing down.

“Are you bringing me coffee?” He sounded shocked.

“Ah, yes, but it is not bad jittery coffee. It is decaf coffee. Fools mind into being energetic.” I sat the jumbo decaf on his desk. It was a tidy desk. It fit Layton, who was also tidy. He sat back, crossed his arms over his dark blue suit jacket, and gave me a long look.

“What did you do?” he asked with resignation in his voice.

“Me?” I pointed to myself. He nodded. “I do nothing. Well, I mean I do many things. Today I wake up, suck on Erik’s—”

“Whoa, hold up.” He threw a hand into the air. “I don’t need a play-by-play of your morning. I mean what did you do wrong that I’m going to have to fix on social media? You must have done something, since you brought me coffee, and you’re always hounding me to give it up.”

“No, I say give up bad jitter coffee. This is good no jitter coffee, and I have done no bad.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is true. Crossing my heart.” I made an ”X” over my chest. “I bring you coffee gift to make you happy.”

“Uh-huh. Adler does the same thing.”

“Well, Adler is making to spoil you so he can nibble on your nuts.” Layton’s smooth cheeks flamed red. “I am not wishing to nibble your nuts. I nibbled on Erik’s this morning.”

“Stan, can we just get to the reason that you’re here?” His whole face was rosy now, even his ears.

I closed the door and sat across from him, shoving the coffee cup in his direction. “I wish to make a charity to help poor children. Mostly, I am thinking for Russian children, but I know America and Russia are not making nice right now. So for maybe poor children in Europe for more general help. I read online that one hockey player has big charity game for his child foundation. Invites many big names during summer. This player is from Norway, but I think maybe we could do this in Sweden? Erik knows many people there. We all do. I wish to make good life for poor babies. Can you help me do this?”

He blinked at me, grabbed my gift, and took a long swig. I could hear the other players, arriving for morning skate, walking past the closed door. Erik was coming in later. Our nanny’s car broke down, and so he had to go pick her up. Always something with children.

“I’m not sure that I’m the person to talk to about this, but I’d be happy to do what I can to get you headed in the right direction.”

I smiled and stood, shoving my hand at him. “Yes! You are miracle worker. I see how many bacons you save for the team, and I know, deep in heart, that you are man for the job. I leave you to make foundation big and good. Oh! Name it after my cousin who dies and leaves his children to Anatoli and then me. Call it the Lyamin Foundation for Children. Yes, I like this.” I pumped his hand hard.

“Stan, I’m not the one who’ll be setting this up. I’m just—”

“Yes, yes, making good for poor children.” I shook and shook his hand. “Find good peoples for me and the foundation. We make summer hockey game and give all monies to the children.”

“Stan, it’s not going to be as easy as—”

I released his hand and went for the door. “Oh, yes, I know is not easy. But you are bacon saver, so you will pull my crispy fat pork meat from hot pan too. Many thanks!”

“Stan, I just…” I paused in the hall to check back with him. His eyes met mine, and he smiled just a little. “I’ll get things started for the Anatoli Lyamin Foundation.”

“You are good man, Layton Foxx.” I saluted him before heading down the hall into the dressing room. “Listen up, I have bigly news!”

Everyone dressing for morning skate quieted and looked my way. Tennant gave me a grin. It was so good to have my best friend back. Even if he wasn’t playing just yet, he would be soon, and then all would be right with the world. “I make big hockey game for summer, play for new charity for poor children in Europe. Who will sign up to do this with me?”

Every hand in the dressing room went up.