Spectrum (The Karen Vail Series) (8 page)

Deacon led her to the couch and they sat down. “I’m not sure there’s ever a good time. There’s always going to be something. But a kid is—well, it’s something we both wanted. It just happened sooner than we planned.

A lot sooner.

Her pager buzzed and then started beeping. She leaned to the side and checked the number. “Shit. I gotta take this. It’s Russo.”

“But we have to talk about it. What the pregnancy means. When you stop working, how the department handles it—”

“I have to look into it. I’ve got no idea how any of this works.”

She rose from the couch, but before she could take a step, Deacon folded her in his arms. “We’ll figure it out. This is a great thing, Karen. Now or later, it doesn’t matter. We’re gonna have a baby.”

Vail closed her eyes.
I should be happy. So what’s wrong with me?

11

>ASTORIA, QUEENS

Wednesday, April 4, 1973

Livana sat at the dinner table. Cassandra was unusually quiet, while Dmitri and Niklaus were trading baseball cards that Fedor had bought them earlier in the day.

Livana made the boys put their stuff away, and they had just started saying grace when Basil and Fedor walked in the front door.

“I thought you two weren’t coming home till later,” Livana said.

Basil took a deep breath, as if trying to push the disappointment from his mind. “How was school?”

“Okay,” Cassandra said.

Niklaus and Dmitri turned to Livana—who shared a concerned look—but none of them said anything.

“What’s wrong?” Basil asked, following the silent communication.

After a long pause, Niklaus said, “Some kid pushed Dmitri. Knocked him down. And then he kicked him. Stupid idiot.”

“Watch your mouth,” Fedor said, giving Niklaus a stern look.

“He was a bully, Dad.”

“Are you okay?” Basil asked.

Dmitri nodded.

“Why’d he knock you down?”

Dmitri dropped his gaze to his plate. His face twisted as if he was doing his best not to cry.

“Because he was a douche bag.”

“Niklaus!” Fedor’s face was red. “Apologize for your foul mouth.”

“He was, Dad. I told the kid to stop, and then he pushed
me
and said, ‘What are you gonna do about it?’”

Basil’s mouth tightened and he turned to Livana, who was busying herself with the food. “Did you tell the teacher?” he asked, swinging back in his chair toward Dmitri.

Dmitri shook his head.

Niklaus looked at Basil, then at Dmitri. When Dmitri did not elaborate, Niklaus sat forward. “I punched him, the kid. He ran away and
he
told the teacher on
me
.”

“Nik was sent to the principal’s office,” Livana said. “You have to go talk with her tomorrow, Fedor. Nik might get suspended. I’m sorry.”

“Anything happen to the punk who started it?”

Livana tapped her spatula on the side of the pot. “No one else saw it except for Niklaus and Dmitri, and the principal ignored what they had to say about who started it.”

Fedor worked his jaw. “I’ll handle it.”

“When someone picks on you,” Basil said to Dmitri, “you have to stand up to him. He’s a bully. Punch him, like Nik did. In the nose. Then he won’t bother you again. Understand, son?”

Dmitri nodded but did not look up.

“Thank-you,” Basil said to Niklaus, “for sticking up for him.”

Livana brought over the plates and set them down.

Basil lifted his utensil but stopped. “This bully picked on Dmitri because of—because of what happened with me.”

“You don’t know that. These things happen in school.”

“Even if you don’t want to admit it, I know why it happened. And it’s not going to end.” Basil stopped, took a breath, and said, “We need to move, start a new life. We can’t get jobs here. We need money.”

“Move?” Cassandra asked. “Live somewhere else?”

Basil stabbed at the canned string beans on his plate. “Yes.”

“Where?” Livana asked.

“Where people don’t know us.”

Cassandra’s eyes welled up but she did not speak. Livana placed a hand on her arm, then drew her close. Lifestyle-altering changes could be scary for children, especially coming on the heels of all the recent upheaval they had endured—from being ostracized to moving out of their house and into their friend’s duplex, and the family stress of suddenly becoming financially strapped.

While Cassandra did not fully understand what was going on, Livana knew that a child could pick up on adult emotions and internalize them. With all that had happened, she and Basil had to make sure the trauma did not cause irreparable psychological damage to the children.

In a situation that had been spiraling out of control, it was one thing they had some influence over.

THAT EVENING, LIVANA lay in bed holding Basil’s hand, not speaking, staring at the ceiling. Thinking.

She knew that what Basil said at dinner made sense. They had tried to overcome the stigma of being the family that harmed the life of a favorite son of the community; they had given it sufficient time to scab over. But rather than heal, it had festered like a pus-filled sore.

“Okay,” she said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “We’ll move, go where no one knows us.”

They fell silent for a while, Livana trying to remember a time when the weight of this problem was not hanging over their family. She tried to keep it in perspective. They all had their health, so money did not matter. They would find jobs and get back on their feet, start anew.

“The World Trade Center opened today,” she said. “I think we should take the kids.
Newsday
said we can ride the elevator all the way up to the observation deck, 110 stories high. It’s called the Top of the World. You can see fifty miles away.”

“When I get a job, okay? I’m sure it’s not free.”

“I just think it’d be fun. We need to start doing things as a family again. Fun things. The zoo, the park—a Mets game. Dairylea has coupons on the milk cartons. I’ve been saving them. When we have enough I’ll send them in for free tickets.”

A tear ran down Basil’s cheek. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry for everything. All the pain I’ve caused.”

“Agapi mou,” she said in Greek.
My love.
She leaned over and let her fingers trace the outline of his face. “I know you didn’t start that fight. It happened. We’ll do what needs to be done to make things good again.”

Basil took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow we’ll start looking for a new place.” Her index finger trailed across his forehead. “As long as we do this together, it won’t be so bad. It’ll be an adventure. In the end it’ll be a good thing.”

“Guess it can’t be worse than what we’ve got now.”

Livana laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”

12

>ASTORIA, QUEENS

Friday, April 20, 1973

Upon arriving home after mowing a neighbor’s front yard, Basil encountered a man standing on Fedor’s porch.

Livana walked out of the house in time to see the individual verify her husband’s identity, then hand Basil an envelope.

Basil trudged into the house, kicked off his workboots, and then tore open the letter. He pulled out the cream colored thick bond paper and unfolded it, hands trembling in anger as he read it.

Livana grabbed it away and brought it over to the kitchen table light. Seconds later, she said, “I don’t understand. We paid them the money, like Mr. Tazor asked.”

Fedor walked in and wiped his hands on the dish towel. “What’s the matter?”

“That lawyer,” Livana said, “the one working for Gregor Persephone. He’s suing us. But we paid them the money. Mr. Tazor said that if we paid Gregor’s medical bills, they wouldn’t sue us.”

Fedor looked over the papers, then sat down at the butcher block table. “You need to talk to this attorney. Maybe he doesn’t know that you paid them. Get a copy of your check from the bank.”

“We don’t use checks. It’s easier to spend money that way. When you feel the dollar bills,” he said, rubbing his fingers together, “you know what you’re spending. A check, it’s like fake money.”

Fedor nodded slowly. “I think you need to go to the attorney and explain. And hope that he believes you.”

“You think Gregor and his wife would lie?”

“Well,” Fedor said, “we already know Alysia’s a liar, don’t we? She’s the one who started this whole thing by lying.”

Basil stood there, mute, then backed away and leaned against the wall. They looked at one another, sadness dragging Basil’s face into a mass of jowls and drooping eyes. “So …” he started, then stopped. “So you’re saying that all our money’s gone and we’re still being sued?”

“It’s like you never paid him anything.”

“But we did! Livana was there.”

“And she’s your wife. She’d say anything to support you. It’s your word against his. Kind of like what happened at the bowling alley.” Fedor stopped, as if realizing that was probably not a good thing to bring up at the moment.

“I’m gonna go there,” Basil said, walking toward his boots. “To his office, talk to Tazor. It’s Friday, I need to get there before he leaves for the weekend.”

“You need to calm down,” Livana said. “We both do. Going there now will just make things worse. We’ll go on Monday.”

Basil’s shoulders slumped and he sat down heavily at the table. “What’s the point in suing us? We’ve got nothing left. You told them that when we gave them the money.”

Livana, silent for a moment with her head bowed, sat up straight. “Either Gregor didn’t tell him we paid him, or he thinks we were lying about how much money we had. Or it’s not about the money. The lawyer said he’s a friend of Gregor’s. Maybe he knows he’s not going to get anything from us, but he, or Gregor—or both—wants to upset us.”

“This isn’t right.” Basil rose abruptly from the chair and headed for the door. He slipped on his boots and stormed out of the house.

“Basil!” Livana started after him, but Fedor grabbed her arm. “I’ll go, see if I can talk some sense into him, get him to calm down.”

“No, you stay with the kids. I know my husband, I know that he needs to do this, say his piece, and then he’ll be okay.” She gave Fedor a one-sided smile and then headed out after Basil.

LIVANA CAUGHT UP to him a half block away from Emil Tazor’s building. When she called his name, he slowed his pace but did not stop until he reached the door to the law office.

“Basil, please,” she said as she reached him, out of breath. “Don’t do this.”

He turned, hand on the metal knob, and looked her over. “Where’s your coat?”

“I just ran out of the house. I wanted to catch you before you did something bad.”

He removed his jacket and pulled it around Livana’s shoulders. “I’m not gonna do something stupid. I’ll talk to Mr. Tazor, tell him we gave Gregor the money.”

She knew Basil to sometimes be stubborn and sometimes naive. In this case, he was being both. “Basil, please come home with me.”

He studied her eyes before speaking. “Home? We do not have a home.”

She took his rough face in her hands, stroked his beard. “Home is where we live with our children. That old apartment where we used to live was not our
home
. It was just a place, that’s all.”

“We spent five years there. We had memories.”

“And we’ll make new memories. This is how life works. This is what matters. Me, you, Cassie, Dmitri. Not money. Not apartments.”

She felt him relax—just a bit. As the tension in his neck and face lessened, the sadness eased.

But the door to the law office pushed open, revealing Emil Tazor. He saw Basil—and started to duck back inside.

“Wait,” Basil said, grabbing the metal handle. Gregor Persephone was standing there, sunglasses covering his damaged eyeballs, the tail of a scar coursing around his left temple.

Basil swallowed, a visible rising and falling of his Adam’s apple. “I don’t understand why you’re suing us.”

Tazor glanced around—as if to say this was not the place to be having such a discussion—then said, “I explained to you what would happen. I gave you the opportunity to make it right.”

Livana pulled the door open wider. “You said we could pay Gregor’s medical bills. And we did.”

“We brought the money over to his house,” Basil said. “We gave it to both Alysia and Gregor.”

Tazor turned to Gregor. “They brought you the money?”

“The same day you came to our house, Mr. Tazor,” Basil said. “I went to the bank, took out everything we had, and brought it over. A little over four thousand, just like we told you. It’s all we had.”

“Greg—did they pay you?”

“I don’t know what they’re talking about,” Gregor said, his voice even. “I haven’t seen them since that night. Wait—what am I saying? I haven’t seen
anyone
since that night.”

Tazor turned back to Basil. “Look, there’s nothing more to be said h—”

“We’re telling you the truth,” Basil said. “We brought the money over in a Mets bag we got a couple of years ago. I—the bank gave me a receipt. I can show it to you.”

“All that means is that you took your money out of the bank,” Tazor said. “Maybe you took it so the court couldn’t confiscate it.”

“No,” Basil said. “No, that’s not true!”

“First you make me blind,” Gregor shouted, “and now you lie?”

“You shut up,” Basil said, pointing at him. “Look at what you’ve done, the problems you and your wife caused. You wanted me to pay your medical bills, I paid them—or as much as I could. I paid what I could. What more do you want? An apology? I’m sorry you’re blind. But you started the fight, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You really want to know what I want from you?”

“Greg,” Tazor said. “Leave it be.”

“Leave it be? No, he needs to know that I want him to suffer. The way I’m suffering.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Basil said, taking a step forward. “You accused me of doing something I didn’t do, then you punched me. I just fought back, that’s all.”

“I’m gonna make sure you feel the pain I feel,” Gregor said, pushing Tazor aside and stepping forward, about a foot to Basil’s left. “I’m gonna ruin your life just like you ruined mine!”

Basil tensed. “You need to start telling the truth, Gregor. Or I’m gonna tell the truth about your father. And the illegal furs he’s been importing from Greece.”

Gregor’s lips parted and his face blanched.

“That’s right,” Basil said. “I know all about it. I used to work at the factory in Kastoria before moving to America. I know the fur trade, I know what your father’s doing, and I never said anything to anyone because he’s a good man. But he fired me because you and your wife are liars. You tell him I want my job back. I get my job back, his secret’s safe. And soon as I can, I’ll pay you the other thousand dollars I was short. For your medical bills.” He pointed at Tazor. “And you stop suing me.” He looked back at Gregor, whose face was a deep red. “Everyone wins.”

Tazor shook his head, then stepped closer to Basil. “That was not smart. You need to leave. And don’t come back or I’ll report you to the police for harassment.”

Livana pulled Basil back into the chilly evening air. The door closed behind them with a clunk. “What illegal thing is Gus doing at the factory? How bad?”

Basil turned slowly and permitted Livana to lead him away from the office. He stepped heavily, and unevenly, toward the curb. He sat down and buried his face in his hands.

“Bad enough. It could put him out of business. Maybe Gus is smarter than his son and he’ll give me my job back.”

Livana took a seat next to him, put her arm around his back, and buried her head in his shoulder.