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The house is dark when Ilya makes his way outside, entirely quiet. Shane is sleeping, for once not worn out from sex but excellent food and wine.
He’d put his foot down at having sex in his parents’ house, and it remains to be seen what will give first: Shane’s hangups about sex in his childhood bedroom, or his insistence they stay here rather than at a hotel. Since they’re far more likely to be discovered meaningfully in a hotel, Ilya’s money is on the former.
It is a good house, full of memories and love, even in the dark.
Ilya grabs Shane’s coat and his own boots, and slips out through the back door.
The outside air is cold and still, the world blanketed in white. It is only him and the stars, the neighbouring houses hidden behind tall trees at the edge of the property.
A lonely patch of land, maybe. Or a safe one, shielded from prying eyes.
Ilya takes a breath and turns his head up, looks at the void above him. His exhale clouds the air, and so do his words: “It’s been an eventful few months, Mama.”
All alone, Ilya starts filling her in.
The Hollanders are trying. Ilya knows that. Knows that his own father, if he hadn’t kicked the bucket already, would never have done that much. Alexei certainly won’t.
But the tension is still palpable: he is so far from an ideal partner to Shane that it’s a surprise Yuna and David haven’t sent him away yet, and it makes him too-conscious of everything he says, everything he does in turn, until he collapses back against the door after they have left.
“That went well,” Shane says, kissing him gently. “They already like you.”
Ilya has no recollection of the meal.
“You have my number, so if there is anything you need, text me,” Yuna tells him the evening before Ilya’s flight back to Boston leaves.
Ilya nods, though why would he text her?
Two days later, he gets his first message from her: links to two brands, and a long text that starts with, Shane said you have no manager, so I did preliminary research. If you’re interested, these are the brands I could see a deal for you with […]
What are your conditions? he texts back.
Within hours, he receives a contract from her that is more than fair.
“Crossword is stupid! How am I supposed to know old and boring US presidents?!”
“Nobody’s forcing you to do them, Roz,” Conny points out without looking up from his phone.
“Ugh,” Ilya replies, because he can’t very well say, my boyfriend’s father will judge me if I give up or but David Hollander said it was easy without getting some questions he’d rather not answer.
Which means he has to despair all by himself. “Fucking stupid. I do not understand why people do this for fun.”
And yet, the first time he completed one, he didn’t stop smiling for hours.
“So, Ilya,” Yuna says during their weekly phone call, “You’re playing in Ottawa next week, do you want to come by for dinner then?”
Ilya stares at nothing for a moment. He isn’t entirely sure when he and Yuna started having weekly phone calls, but they do, and he’s even less sure when she got it into her head that he would come over without Shane there.
Still, he finds himself nodding on autopilot. “I would love to.”
“Awesome! It should be meal-plan approved, do you want to look it over?”
“No, I trust you.”
And he really, truly does.
The Hollanders’ house has a porch that looks out at a backyard, large enough for an outdoor rink.
Yuna finds him there after dinner, and passes one of her two cups of mulled wine to Ilya.
“I always dreamed of my kids playing shinny in the backyard,” she says wistfully.
Ilya takes a sip and glances at her. She looks like Shane when he thinks about hockey. “But?”
“I couldn’t have more than Shane. Barely managed to have him.”
“I am sorry,” Ilya says, “Though siblings are overrated.”
Yuna laughs, and this gesture looks like Shane, too. “Sometimes, they are.”
Ilya’s phone dings as he’s out with the boys. He checks it reflexively, smiling at the preview.
“Oooh, Jane keeping tabs?”
“No,” Ilya says, and doesn’t add anything else because he’s too busy grinning.
Lacklustre effort tonight, David has set him. A picture follows while Ilya is watching: noodles with some beige sauce, littered with what might be mushrooms or might be mutilated beef. The chef seems to think seasoning is the enemy, and the four portions feed one person.
My condolences, Ilya types back, maybe we improve it next time?
David hearts the message, so that’s Ottawa plans settled.
“So, my parents want us to come over,” Shane says as they’re lying on Ilya’s bed, sweat still cooling on their skin.
“Very sexy. Also, they are very far away.”
Shane huffs. “Not now. For Christmas.”
“Oh. Your Christmas, I guess?”
“Yeah. We play on yours.”
“Travesty.”
Shane huffs again. “Yeah, Mr. New York Times.”
“Is good sleeping aid!” Ilya defends himself, before sobering. “So… they invite us?”
“I go every year. But. They… I… We would like for you to be there, too.”
“Spend days with you and family? Of course I say no.”
Shane laughs. “I love you.”
“So, what do you bring for parents-in-law?” Ilya asks casually.
Simmy whips around like he’d announced he would marry the entire Montreal team. Like he’d choose anyone other than Shane, pah. “What? Rozy, are you – do you – do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.” Ilya shakes his head, tries to summon his casual-question-face again. “No, just… curious.”
“So this is not about Jane?”
“There is no Jane.”
“Uh huh. Anyway, uh – Liz has picked out a puzzle for her dad, a nice, wooden one, and a designer sweater for her mom. Stuff they like, you know?”
“Hm. You are useless.”
“Hey!”
Ilya does find a pretty cool word-based puzzle which should be interesting to someone as nice and boring as Shane Hollander’s dad. For Yuna, he picks out a bracelet that he thinks matches the earrings he’s seen her wear, and then adds two bottles of wine – white and red, something he knows they will like – and tickets for the next time the Metros come to Boston.
He refrains from adding plane tickets, mainly because he doesn’t know their surrounding schedule. But it’s a close call – they can always be rebooked.
Hopefully, they won’t kick him to the curb over this.
Shane rolls his eyes when his parents unpack Ilya’s gifts, but he does look pleased, and neither David nor Yuna will stop smiling, which means Ilya wins.
Ilya, in turn, receives matching pyjamas with Shane (adorable), a Polaroid camera they make use of right there, and a voucher for an online cooking class. “We wanted in person, but it would be hard to explain why David is taking it with Ilya Rozanov,” Yuna explains, and Ilya does not cry.
Not even when Shane gives him a pendant for his necklace. “So I’m with you, always.”
He does kiss him, though.
“I have come home, Mama,” Ilya tells the night sky. He doesn’t know if his mama is listening, but he thinks she might. That she’s been watching him all these years, that she’s gotten to see how far he’s come from the scared but brave little boy he was. “I have found myself family.”
He takes a deep breath of the crisp winter air. “I hope you can see how good they are to me. How good Shane is to me. You would have loved him. You would have loved this.
“I wish you could have lived to see this.”