The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (97)

A different type of weariness settled over Cassie and, tired of fighting, she gave in to it. “Fine. Go get dressed. We’ll go now.”





The phone rang as Cassie pressed the lid on to her to-go cup of coffee. Nick had popped up off the loveseat bright eyed and chipper—an occupational necessity, he claimed—but Cassie needed caffeine to face the day this early.

“Bobby just woke up a few minutes ago.” Anna’s voice was breathless. “The hospital called. I’m going up there now.”

“Are you serious? She’s awake?” Despite Birdie’s insistence, Cassie hadn’t really believed there’d be a change in Bobby’s status.

“Of course I’m serious! Why would I joke about that? She hasn’t spoken much, and I’m not sure she’s understood everything I’ve told her, but she’s awake.”

Birdie tugged at Cassie’s sleeve. “I told you, Mommy. Come on!”

Cassie stared at her little girl. “All right, Mom. We’re on our way.”





Cassie gripped Birdie’s hand as she peered into the hospital room. An oxygen tube curled under Bobby’s nose, and dripping lines pushed IV fluids into her arms. As Anna sat on the bed with her, Bobby’s eyes fluttered open.

“What happened?”

“You had a heart attack.” Anna reached over and straightened the covers. “You were alone in your bedroom, and you fell on the ground. Cassie heard the thump and found you. Luckily, they got you here in time.”

“I hate that Cassie found me like that.”

Cassie wanted to run in there and tell Bobby she was being ridiculous. She would live through that a hundred times over if it meant saving Bobby, but Anna had decided that it would be better if she went in alone first, so Cassie bit her tongue.

“I’m glad she found you! Thank goodness she’s living with you now. If she hadn’t called for help, you might not have made it.”

Bobby shrugged. “Maybe I was supposed to go. It’s my time, you know.”

“Let’s not start that kind of talk. Everyone’s here to see you.” Anna waved Cassie, Birdie, and Nick into the room.

Birdie hesitated, but when her eyes fell on Bobby, her face lit up.

“My little bird!” Bobby opened her arms. “Come fly to me.”

“Careful,” Cassie warned as Birdie climbed up onto the bed and snuggled into Bobby’s arms.

“I’ve missed you, Bobby.” Birdie’s sweet little voice still thrilled Cassie.

“I’ve missed you too, Birdie. But now, we are together again.”

Birdie sat up and looked into Bobby’s eyes. “I have to tell you something. But only you.”

Bobby nodded and turned her ear toward the girl.

Birdie held her dimpled fingers up in front of her mouth and leaned closer. She tried to talk quietly, but her voice echoed in the sterile room.

“Alina says she isn’t mad at you. She never was. She’s glad you made a good life. Okay?”

Bobby’s face went white, and her heart monitor shrieked a warning. Anna moved to get a nurse, and Cassie reached out to pull Birdie off the bed.

“Wait,” Bobby croaked. Her head fell back against the pillow. “I’m fine. Birdie, tell me again. Please.”

Birdie put her hand on Bobby’s cheek. “She’s been wanting to tell you for a long time. She said she’s not mad and she loves you. Doesn’t that make you happy? It made Alina happy to tell me.”

Cassie and Anna exchanged a look. So that was the “message” Birdie had to get to Bobby. Cassie still didn’t know what to think about the whole thing, but there was no denying that Birdie’s words, whatever inspired them, affected Bobby. A lump formed in Cassie’s throat.

The heart monitor slowed. Bobby squeezed her eyes shut and a tear meandered down her wrinkled cheek, changing direction with each groove and crevice it caught. She hugged the girl close. “Yes, little bird. It makes me very happy.”

Anna pursed her lips and shook her head.

Bobby directed her steely gaze toward her. “I know you don’t believe in these things, Anna, but our relationship with the dead was very different in the old world.”

“It just seems—” Anna started in, but Cassie covertly kicked her.

“You don’t have to believe me. I know what I know,” Bobby said. “And I want to apologize to you both. I was so good in burying the painful parts of my past that I buried the good memories, too. There was much more I could have shared but opening myself up to my old life hurt too much. So, I kept everything locked away and you lost out on all of it.”

“That’s not true, Mama. You passed on Ukrainian recipes. We made pysanky. You taught me how to embroider.” Anna took Bobby’s hand. “Mama, you gave me a wonderful life.”

“Thank you for saying that, Anna, but I could have done more, and I can’t change that. It’s a regret I will carry to my grave.” Bobby turned to Cassie. “Have you finished the journal?”

Cassie pulled the rushnyk, journal and pictures out of her bag and set them on the bed. “Almost, but not quite.” She could feel Nick’s eyes burning into the back of her head, but she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Bobby ran her hand down the rushnyk and touched each symbol. “My mother made this for my wedding to Pavlo, and the priest bound our hands together with it. The open wreath symbolizes our open lives ahead of us. The larks are for joy and vigor. The sunflowers are for fertility and prosperity, and the poppies are for love.”