The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (86)

Bobby chuckled. “I know, little bird. Me too. Now, open your hands.”

Birdie held still as Bobby poured a packet of seeds into Birdie’s dimpled hands.

“Put them in the rows Mommy made?” Birdie asked.

When Bobby nodded, Birdie dropped to the ground and placed each seed carefully in its spot, evenly spaced from the last one.

“You’re very good at that.” Bobby beamed at her great-granddaughter.

Birdie nodded in agreement with the unpretentious confidence of the young, making both Cassie and Bobby laugh.

“Now cover them with dirt and pat down gently,” Bobby said.

Birdie worked diligently until the last seed was patted in place, then she jumped up. “I’m going to get a drink of water. Don’t plant any without me!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cassie grinned. “Come right back out when you’re done.”

Bobby fiddled with the empty seed packet in her lap. “You’re right, Cassie. These seeds may not bloom this year, but it’s worth a try. It’s always worth a try, don’t you think? With flowers and with life.”

So many questions danced on Cassie’s tongue, but she bit them back and finally replied. “I guess that’s what you did, isn’t it? Tried to move on?”

Bobby nodded slowly. “And it’s what you will do too, eventually.”

Damn, she was good at turning the tables. But Cassie wasn’t willing to dive into her own issues now, so she changed the subject.

“What made you decide to plant sunflowers? I thought they made you sad?”

“I decided it was time I stopped disliking them for the bad memories and choose to enjoy them for the good memories. It’s something I’m still working on.” Bobby stared off into the yard, as if actively trying to do what she’d just mentioned.

Birdie tumbled out of the back door and ran toward them, her face beaming. “Guess what? Alina told me she’s happy you’re planting the sunflowers!”

“What?” Bobby’s gnarled knuckles whitened on the arm of her chair.

The hairs on the back of Cassie’s neck stood up, but she ignored the uncomfortable sensation. “Birdie! You shouldn’t make up things like that. It upsets Bobby!”

Birdie’s face crumpled. “I didn’t make up anything.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Cassie said. But what did she mean? She didn’t really think her daughter was talking to her dead great–aunt in there, did she?

“Because it’s almost my time. That’s why she’s here.” Bobby jerked her gaze toward Cassie. “I need to know you’ll finish reading my things before I go. I need to keep my promise.”

Cassie brushed the dirt off her trembling hands and stood. “Nick should be here any minute. We’re planning on getting through a lot today.”

“Good.” Bobby slowly pulled herself up from her chair. “I’ll go put Birdie down for her nap. I told her I’d read her a story. Then I’ll go rest, too.”

Birdie, tired after her full day of planting flowers, ran to her room. Cassie waited until Bobby made her way inside and down the hall before following behind. No matter how fine Bobby insisted she was, Cassie worried. Staying out of sight, she peered in the door and listened as Bobby stumbled through The Three Little Pigs for Birdie’s sake. Love welled up inside Cassie. The woman could speak and read Ukrainian, Polish, and Russian fluently, but she still struggled on occasion with the written English word.

When the story was done, she pulled the covers up to Birdie’s chin and kissed her on her forehead. Cassie smiled at the sight. No doubt, her mother had been right in encouraging her to move here with Bobby. Birdie would never forget the time she got to spend with her great-grandmother.

“Can you tell me another story about you and Alina?” Birdie asked.

Cassie’s mouth dropped open, and she leaned closer to the doorway.

“What about the one with the mud pies?” Birdie asked. “That’s my favorite.”

“Let’s play a game,” Bobby said. “This time, you tell it to me. What do you think?”

“Okay.” Birdie pursed her lips and tapped her finger on her chin. “Let’s see. Once upon a time, you and Alina made mud pies. Alina decorated hers with flowers and grass. It looked so pretty that you wanted to eat it!” Birdie grimaced. “Yuck! Alina said you couldn’t eat mud, so you tried to feed them to the pigs, but they didn’t eat them either. They rolled in them!”

She dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Was that good? Did I tell it right?”

Bobby nodded slowly. “It was perfect. Now, you get some rest. Maybe Alina will visit you again soon.” Bobby tucked the covers in close one more time and stood. “If she does, you tell me, okay?”

Birdie gave a sleepy nod as she yawned.

Prickles of unease tickled Cassie’s scalp as she backpedaled away from the room.





Cassie tried to lose herself in transcribing—shoving down her reactions, letting the words flow in her ears and out her fingers. With every loss Katya accumulated—Pavlo, Viktor, Alina, her mother—Cassie’s hold on her emotions weakened, but as Nick described Katya’s wedding to Kolya, Cassie couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. A sob tore out of her, and she pushed herself back from the table.