The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (47)

“You must ask Nick to help you,” Bobby had said again over breakfast.

“Why can’t you read it to me? Or tell me about it?” Cassie begged. She wanted to hear the story from Bobby in her own words.

Bobby shook her head. “No. Surviving through it once was hard enough. It’s important that you know, but I will not relive it.”

“Just call Nick,” Anna had said. She, too, was dying to know what was in the journal, and, as she’d let Cassie know on more than one occasion, she was more than a little miffed that Bobby had skipped her over and given the materials to Cassie.

“I will,” Cassie said. And she intended to–as soon as she had a better grip on her reaction to him.





That afternoon, she, Birdie, and Bobby walked to the park down the street. There, Bobby sat on a bench in the sunshine while Birdie played on the jungle gym. Cassie moved back and forth between the two as necessary.

“She reminds me of you when you were little,” Bobby said, as they watched Birdie sliding down the tallest slide, then racing back up to do it again. “She’s fearless.”

“She used to be, before the accident,” Cassie said. “But, for a long time afterward, I couldn’t get her to leave my side. Since we’ve been here, I’ve seen something in her shifting.”

The warm breeze rustled the budding tree branches canopied overhead, bringing the spring scents of damp earth and newly awakening plants with it. Bobby scrutinized the young girl.

“I still see it in her,” Bobby finally said. “She’s like you. She’ll get back to her fearless self.”

Cassie drew in a wavering breath. “How do you see that when I’ve been such a mess?”

Bobby patted Cassie’s knee. “It doesn’t matter what I see. It’s what you see.”

As Cassie thought about that, Birdie ran off the playground toward the street, waving her arms.

Cassie jumped up. “Hey, where are you going? Don’t go in the street!”

Birdie stopped on the sidewalk and waved again.

“Who are you waving at?” Cassie asked as she jogged over.

“Hey, Cassie,” Nick called out. Dressed in running shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and dripping with sweat, he looked like he’d just run a 5k.

“Oh, hi, Nick.” Cassie tried not to stare at his thick, muscled arms and ended up staring at the sky. “What are you doing here?”

Nick looked up too. “Just out for a run. What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” Cassie’s face flushed. “I thought I saw a bird.”

“Me, too!” Nick gave Birdie’s arm a gentle squeeze. “My favorite bird.”

Birdie giggled in delight.

“Nick!” Bobby slowly made her way over to them. “I’m glad we ran into you. I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight. We’re making borscht.”

“We are?” Cassie said at the same time Nick said: “I’d love to! Borscht is my favorite.”

“Good, come by around six.”

“I wouldn’t miss it! I’ll see you guys then.” He threw out a wave and jogged off.

“Why did you do that?” Cassie asked as they walked home, Birdie skipping ahead in front of them.

“Do what?” Bobby asked.

“You know what! Ask him to dinner. And since when are we making borscht?”

“I always make borscht. It’s good,” Bobby said.

“I know it’s good. But do we even have what we need for it?”

“Of course. I may be old, but I’m not crazy.” She wagged a crooked finger at Cassie. “You can tell your mother that, too. I put beef shanks on the stove to simmer this morning. Didn’t you see? And Anna bought the beets and cabbage when she went to the store for me yesterday. She’s coming, too.”

Cassie sighed. “Fine, but next time you decide to throw a dinner party, a little warning would be appreciated.”

“I didn’t know your mother and a neighbor coming over would bother you so much.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Cassie hesitated. “It’s just different.”

“Different because it makes you feel happy? And you haven’t been happy in so long?”

Birdie stopped to smell a forsythia bush in their neighbors’ front yard.

Cassie ignored Bobby. “Birdie, you can’t run into people’s yards.”

Birdie shot Cassie a pouty look and ran ahead to Bobby’s yard to investigate her flowers.

“So?” Bobby asked.

“So what?”

“So, you didn’t answer my question. Does he make you feel happy?”

“Who?” Cassie feigned innocence. “Nick? I hardly know him.”

“Mm hmm. But even though you try to hide it, I see how you are whenever he’s around. I haven’t seen you like that since…”

“Don’t!” Cassie held up her hand. “Don’t even compare. I don’t feel anything for him, and there is no way he’s remotely like Henry.”

“Nobody is comparing,” Bobby said gently. “All I said is you seem happy. Henry doesn’t have to be the last man to make you happy. And you have a favor to ask of Nick, yes? Here’s your chance.”