My Only One (10 page)

“Still,” Alec told her, “you have much more than the average Soviet citizen. You don’t have to wait in long lines to buy sparse food products. Our people must wait hours at a butcher shop, and then the meat they are able to purchase is tough and stringy.”

“Sounds awful,” Abby said. “On the other hand, America is into instant gratification. They used to call us the ‘Me Generation.’ We have to have it now. Instant food, instant success and instant money in the form of abuse of our credit cards. That’s why fast-food restaurants are such a part of our culture. Everything in this country is speeding up to the point that there’s no time to sit down, relax and take it easy.”

Alec could well believe Abby as they walked down the wet sidewalk. He was amazed at all the cars on the highway. In Moscow, very few ordinary citizens owned cars. His attention was snagged by a huge department-store window display on their left. Everywhere Alec looked as they sauntered down the boulevard were retail outlets.

“You don’t have lines of people waiting to get into this clothing store,” he noted, slowing down and looking at the mannequins in the window display.

Abby halted beside him. “No. Should we?”

“In Moscow, our stores are nearly empty of consumer goods, and what little there is, we must stand in lines to try and buy.” He pointed to the mannequins. There was awe in his voice as he asked, “Are those American jeans?”

Tim moved beside Alec. “Yes, they are.”

“How much are they?”

Abby enjoyed watching Alec’s delight. “After we’re finished with the newspaper tour, why don’t we come back over here and let you do a little shopping? It’s a real American thing to do.” She smiled at him. “‘Shop till you drop’ is our slogan!”

* * *

“I
THINK
,” A
BBY TEASED
Alec as they entered her apartment that evening, “that you’ve had a great day.” She hefted a large package to the other arm and closed the door after he’d entered with his own parcels in hand.

Grinning, Alec placed all the items on the floor near the couch. “I’ve just spent three months' worth of pay.”

“You’d put the women of Rodeo Drive in Hollywood to shame, Alec.” Abby placed her packages next to his on the floor. He’d gone back into J.C. Penney after touring the newspaper facility and bought six pairs of jeans. Interestingly enough, Alec had bought only two pairs for himself, but had gotten the other pairs as gifts for friends. Jeans from the West, he told her excitedly, were the hit of the Soviet black market and sold for an enormous amount of rubles. Alec wasn’t a selfish man, and that endeared him even more to Abby. She’d talked him into several collegiate-design shirts to wear with his jeans, but he refused to buy a business suit. He had nowhere on the
Udaloy
to keep that amount of clothing, storage space was at a premium.

Abby had seen Alec looking fondly at a pair of cowboy boots at a shoe store after they’d left Penney’s. Knowing Alec was enamored of America’s Western and Native American heritage, she bought them for him. The look on his face, the gratefulness combined with some undefined but heated emotion, had been her return gift.

Tim had seen Alec looking at a Levi’s denim jacket at a boutique toward the end of their shopping spree. Out of the goodness of his heart, he’d bought it as a gift for Alec—out of his own pocket, not the Coast Guard’s. Abby wanted to hug Tim for his generosity because Alec had wanted the jacket so badly, but couldn’t afford it on his meager paycheck. He hadn’t come to America with very much money.

Alec sauntered into the kitchen later after putting all his packages into the guest bedroom. He sat down on the bar stool. It was nearly 10:00 p.m., and he watched Abby pour them each a small glass of blush wine. Smiling, she remained on her side of the counter, opposite him.

“You’ll be the hit of the
Udaloy
in your American clothes when you go back aboard.”

He smiled and sipped the wine. “It will probably cause nothing but envy and I’ll have to watch to make sure they aren’t stolen. I have several old and dear friends of our family back in Moscow who will treasure the jeans I’ll send to them as soon as I get back on board the ship.”

“You’ll make a lot of people happy. So, how do you like America so far?”

“There isn’t anything to dislike about it. Your country is so different from the Soviet Union.” With a shake of his head, Alec murmured, “And all that food at the Red Lobster…and no waiting in lines. Is this the way it is in the United States?”

She nodded. “I wish you could come with me to Washington, D.C. There’re posh restaurants, a million things to do and many more places to see. I like cities because of what they offer, but I prefer country living. My apartment is in McLean, Virginia, and is secluded in a lovely grove of elm and oak trees. There’re honeysuckle bushes growing all around the building. I’ve got a bottom apartment, a small enclosed area with a tiny lawn and flowers planted around the border of it. When I’m not there, Susan takes care of my place.”

“She is the best kind of friend,” Alec said.

“I just wish…”

Alec cocked his head. “What?”

“Oh, I just wish Susan could meet someone like Tim Atkin. He’s such a nice guy, Alec. So gentlemanly, and he’s so warm and personable. And—” Abby grinned “—he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“I thought he told me he was stationed at Coast Guard headquarters in Washington, D.C.,” Alec said.

Abby’s eyes widened. “He is? Tim’s from Washington?”

With a laugh, Alec said, “Are you going to be…how do you say it? A matchmaker?”

Excitedly, Abby stood there thinking. “Tim isn’t married, and I just know Susan would like him! Oh, what an opportunity! I even have a picture of her! I think I’ll drop a few hints tomorrow and see how Tim reacts to Susan’s photo.” Rubbing her hands, she grinned over at Alec. “I’m a real matchmaker when I want to be.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. I’ve seen the way you go after something you want.”

Trying to look contrite, Abby said, “Well, Alec, Susan really deserves someone as nice as Tim. Don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always believed in fate. If two people are to meet, that is how it will be.”

“Look how we met,” she teased.

Alec’s face dimpled. “Yes, and I don’t ever regret it.”

“Not for a second? Not even when you were freezing to death in that water trying to save my hide?”

He shook his head. “
Moya edinstvenaya,
I have no regrets. Not one…” Except that time was not on their side. Alec ached to stay with Abby, to explore her, to get to know her on so many different levels. Today, she had been a delightful child at Penney’s, and he’d never laughed so much or so hard or for so long. She brought out the sunlight he’d kept closely guarded within himself.

Abby frowned. “That’s the second time you’ve called me that in Russian. What does it mean?”

“Do you think it’s a cuss?”

Today, Alec found out a great deal more about American lingo, including the timber, fishing and mining men of Alaska he encountered as they walked around Anchorage. At a small bar, a couple of bearded fishermen were tossing vile language at one another just as Alec, Tim and Abby walked by. Tim had to delicately explain what all the words meant.

Abby laughed. “Listen, under no circumstances would I believe an officer in the Soviet navy would ever curse a blue streak like those two guys did in front of that bar.”

“Don’t be so sure. When we’re on military exercises, believe me, cursing becomes a regular part of our language at times.” He saw surprise in Abby’s dancing blue eyes. Unconsciously, he reached for her hand and cradled it momentarily. “But what I called you isn’t a curse word. It is an affectionate term, one used for someone special.”

Shaken by Alec’s unexpected touch, Abby stood very still. She stared down at the long, spare fingers that had captured her hand. A part of her wondered what it would be like to kiss Alec, to taste and experience his strength and intensity. Abruptly, Abby tried to stop the feeling, but couldn’t. She melted beneath his warm sable gaze as he gently held her hand.

“What does it mean, then?” she asked, her voice suddenly husky with emotion.

“My only one.” He turned her hand over and studied it intently. “You’re so delicate, Abby. You have the hand of an artist, someone of great sensitivity, and yet, you have the courage of the bear to stand up to a Japanese whaler in a trawler that’s twenty times smaller.” Not wanting to release her, yet knowing he must, Alec did so. Her cheeks were flaming red, her lips were parted, and surprise was etched in her eyes. Yet, Alec also saw something else in them, a luster that told him she liked his touch.

Abby suddenly felt bereft as Alec reluctantly released her hand. Her flesh tingled where his fingers had rested. She licked her lower lip and tried to recover from his unexpected intimacy. “I—uh, that’s a lovely name.” The words he’d spoken so softly had touched her heart, her soul. There was no way she could mistake the meaning of those words because the look in his eyes was one of heat and longing.

The tension in his body made Alec very aware of how Abby affected him physically. More than once he’d wondered what it would be like to have her in his arms. Would she be as passionate a lover as her red hair proclaimed? Would she be as sensitive as her eyes promised?
Yes, to both questions,
his heart answered. Her response to his holding her hand had been telling. For all her courage and bravado, she was hauntingly vulnerable in the world of human relationships, and that made him want her with a fierceness that consumed him like a storm at sea.

Shaken himself, Alec whispered, “I think it’s time I got ready for bed.”

“Yes…”

Abby pretended to busy herself in the kitchen. She heard Alec get up from the stool and leave. Turning, she stood leaning against the kitchen counter, her heart hammering. His touch had made her pulse skyrocket. His action had been unexpected. Molten. As she put the wine bottle away, Abby tried to make logical sense of what had occurred. She couldn’t.
My only one.
Did Russians use certain terms like Americans used certain buzz words that really didn’t mean much at all? Was it a shallow term? Not according to the look in Alec’s eyes and the low timbre of his voice when he’d whispered it to her. Abby wished she knew for sure, one way or another.

* * *

“A
LEC
,
YOUR REQUEST TO
act as an observer aboard the
Argonaut
for a week following its repairs has been approved.” Tim handed Alec a set of orders. “We just received this dispatch from Captain Denisov aboard the
Udaloy.
He’s cleared your request right up to the Kremlin and back. I’m impressed.”

Abby gasped and walked over to where the two men stood near the apartment door. Tim had arrived at 9:00 a.m., looking resplendent, as usual, in his dark blue uniform. Alec smiled down at her and showed her the orders.

“Well, can you put up with me one more week?” Alec asked her.

Reading the document, Abby grew excited. “Of course! Tim, isn’t this wonderful? Do you know what this means?”

Tim grinned. “Yes, ma’am, I do. I’ve already got things in motion. I’ve contacted the four major networks, and you’re going to have cameramen and reporters from three of them. They’ll be taping what you do out there on the Bering Sea and sending the video stateside on a daily basis.”

Thrilled, Abby clapped her hands. “I’ll bet Dr. Turner is going to strip gears when she finds out what’s happened! The humpback whales are going to get national attention again!”

“Better,” Tim added, “is the fact that Moscow has approved of Alec’s being aboard the
Argonaut
as an official observer. The Soviet Union has already signed an agreement not to hunt the whales, so this is really going to add importance to what you’re going to be doing.”

“Do you think any of the major talk shows will be interested after that week at sea?” Abby asked, holding her breath.

“I’ve already got Oprah Winfrey’s assistant agreeing to have you and Alec on her program. I’m working on three other talk shows right now.”

Shocked, Abby looked up at Alec. “You mean he can come with me to do these talk shows?”

Tim pointed to the orders. “Alec has been given a total of three weeks with us. I talked to Captain Stratman this morning, and he said it will be another four days before the
Argonaut
is seaworthy again. Then, you’ll spend seven days at sea, and after that, we’ll take you stateside for the talk-show circuit.”

Abby threw her arms around Tim. “You’re such a public-relations genius, I could kiss you!” Releasing him from the embrace, Abby stepped back and asked, “You will be going to sea with us, won’t you?”

Tim shook his head. “Officially, I can’t go aboard the
Argonaut
because that would symbolically be siding with the SOWF on this issue, and the Coast Guard can’t do that. However, I’ll be here in Anchorage assisting you and the networks' personnel in every way possible.”

“How about the talk shows? You’ll be with us then, won’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t miss that opportunity for the world. I’ll be coordinating everything from behind the scenes for you. Alec is an official guest of the U.S., and the Coast Guard has been chosen to be his escort and host.”

Alec laughed because he knew exactly what Abby had in mind. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Tim, I just happened to have a photo of my best and dearest friend, Susan Anderson. You know, she lives in Washington, D.C. Let me show you a picture of her….”

Alec stood aside and watched Abby beautifully demonstrate her ability to matchmake. It was obvious that Tim was fully taken by the photo of Susan, and he didn’t seem to mind that she had a four-year-old daughter and was divorced. Abby wisely let Tim keep the photo—for the time being.

Dressed in his new pair of jeans, his collegiate-looking long sleeved white-and-blue-striped shirt and his denim jacket, Alec waited for Abby to grab her coat. Tim was going to take them to a fish hatchery and on a tour of the wharf area.

As they left the apartment, Alec smiled. “Do you think we’ll meet more fishermen with colorful cuss words down at the wharf?”