Chapter Eight

Mike and I spent another week talking, walking around the city and having dinner together. During this time, we met up with Ken and Oksana only once. I invited them to celebrate St. Valentine’s Day in the office, where I was hosting the event. Their faces didn’t look happy, unlike Mike’s and mine.

Before the American men left, we decided to go out to dinner once again, for a farewell dinner. We chose a cozy restaurant with traditional Ukrainian cuisine, with waiters in traditional costumes and the appropriate interior decoration. Before that, after thorough thinking, I decided to study English, and if Mike didn’t mind, to keep in touch with him. After all, even my grandmother could read and write in Polish and English, besides Russian. Why couldn’t I?

I wasn’t counting on anything more than a virtual friendship. But my unwillingness to get married was no longer that firm.

All of us were at this good-bye party. The gorgeous Veronika and her husband Vladimir, beautiful Oksana with the same expression of contempt fixed on her face. Mike and Ken were excited about the upcoming dinner and their departure. And I? I was a little confused, unable to figure out what I wanted more: for Mike to leave and for me to return to my normal life, or for him to stay, and for me to turn my calm and lonely life on its head, and live merrily and happily with my new American friend.

I couldn’t say now who came up with the idea to determine which of the men could drink more, but I must say it was a bad idea. Everyone got drunk. Vladimir, accustomed to our vodka, was perfectly managing the amount of alcohol, but our guests were drunk as lords. Whatever that meant. At first Mike was trying to prove to me that he drank only once in a blue moon. But besides the word blue, I did not understand anything in that sentence.

But because I was drunk and knew for a fact that in Russian the adjective blue was used to describe a homosexual, I decided he was admitting to being gay. I was shocked, and immediately decided to end the relationship. Thank heaven Veronika noticed that I was about to make some stupid decision, and when I explained to her about everything I had supposedly realized, at first she laughed for a long time, and then explained that this expression meant rarely. There are months when the full moon appears in the sky twice a month. But this happens not very often. And that gave birth to this expression.

After this it was my turn to laugh. So after all, I decided not to jump to conclusions when I was drunk. Happy, I ran to hug Mike for not being gay.

Meanwhile Ken decided to get acquainted with all the diners of the restaurant. He sat at different tables, started up sociable conversation, then drank with them, ate, and even danced the Hopak, not worse than any Ukrainian.

At the end of the evening he stole toilet paper from the restaurant to take to America, show his friends and discuss with them the question: how could such a rigid paper touch such a delicate place as someone’s bottom? So, we had a great time and enjoyed the evening to its fullest.

That night poor Mike was driving the porcelain bus in the john while I was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea and having no idea how to help him. Shame will never allow him to come to see me again. Those were my thoughts.

Next morning I was barely able to wake him up to get to the airport in time for his flight back to Alaska. But though it was evident that he was suffering from severe hangover, he acted normally, and even tried to joke when talking about our last night together.

Ken and Oksana were not talking to each other.

“Polina, did Mike give you any money?” she asked.

“No.”

“At all?”

“At all. Why? Why would he”

“Ken gave me four hundred hryvnas, so I tore them up and threw them in his face.”

“Why? After all, it’s good money, almost $100. I could live for a month on that.”

I did not want to talk to her. Not only because of a sleepless night, but in general, I was feeling down.

At the gate Mike said, “I left the book I was reading on the table. Inside I put a letter for you. I tried to write in simple words, but if you don’t understand something, ask Veronika to help you. When you read it, you’ll understand. Thank you for everything.”

Well, that’s it, I thought. He probably wrote that I was a good woman, and thanked me for everything, but we were too different and too far from each other. So it’s the end of my adventure and happy time with Mike.

Back home, first thing I did was open the book. I found the letter and three hundred dollars that Mike had put between its pages. Considering the fact that it was possible to live for a hundred dollars per month, this sum was a fortune to me. The letter was easy for me to understand. I read without any difficulty:

“Dear Polina,

I spent two wonderful weeks with you. You are a very nice woman. I’d like to leave you some money as an investment in the development of our relationship. I suspect you would refuse to take it (I am sure you would), so I left it in the book, together with the letter. I would like you to find a good teacher who can help you learn English so that we could know each other better. I would like to return soon. Thank you for your hospitality. Mike.”

I was grateful for the money, but the rest didn’t sound too real. Time would tell, I decided, mentally patting my guardian angel on his warm, silky head.

After he came back into my life, I never lost him again, and from time to time, talked to him in my head, trying to figure out how to not hurt him again, and asked for help or advice. After this I lay down on the bed and immediately fell asleep like a baby.