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“Oh.” The silence on the other side of the phone line was deafening. Only the thunder of the storm outside filled the silence. The phone slid in Ilya’s sweaty palm. Was it hot in here? His heart was most certainly pounding like he had just finished a workout. “And, um. Have children been seen by grief counselor?”
“We unfortunately don’t have the resources to offer grief counseling to every single student. But if you would like your daughter to speak to someone, we can provide that. Obviously, we’re trying to call all parents before the news spreads around school.” The assistant principal’s words were detached. Clinical.
“You said Mia is friends with… affected child?” Bile rose up Ilya’s esophagus faster than it had all those years ago when Shane’s head had cracked against the ice. Shane. Ilya needed Shane immediately. He needed a strategy. He needed -
“…lunch together most days.” The assistant principal prattled in his ear. Suicide. A parent of a child at his daughter’s school - a parent of a friend of Mia’s - had committed suicide. Ilya was about twelve years old again. “…my office right now actually. She seems upset.”
“Mia is with you now?” Ilya croaked.
“Yes.” The assistant principal said, shortly.
“How is she?” Desperation had once sounded like a death sentence to Ilya. Now, though, Ilya let his desperation roam, free like a tiger uncaged.
“Upset.” One word. Mia was there. In front of her. Ilya did the quick mental calculation and hated the final summation. She was distraught.
“I will be there. Ten minutes.” Forget that Ilya was twenty five minutes away from Mia’s school at home. Forget that he had been minutes away from baking a surprise ‘just because’ pie. Well… it wasn’t entirely ‘just because.’ Mia had been in quite a mood this morning. She’d snarked at both Ilya and Shane. Ilya was proud he’d held his tongue; he wouldn’t yell at his child. He never had and he wasn’t about to start because of a few snarky words he no longer remembered. Ilya would cheer Mia up, then talk to her. It all seemed so irrelevant now.
He would be there in ten minutes, fewer if at all possible.
The air was dry and still, oppressive even, around Ilya’s cheeks as he pressed on through the hallways of the middle school. The drip from his hair to his shoulders reminded Ilya he had forgotten an umbrella in his haste. His every step echoed in the hallway and in his mind. His daughter needed him. Ilya pressed on. He probably should have texted Shane, but he just… That day still sometimes played on loop in his mind. Ilya was twelve again, not so much younger than Mia was now. Ilya’s mom was so, so still. Cold.
The office door squeaked open, a blessed revival from Ilya’s personal hell. Ilya’s stomach dropped, then. All Ilya saw was Mia’s perfect, tear streaked face. Her breaths came in heaving grunts, so like Shane sometimes even in this.
“Mia.” Ilya’s voice was little more breath raked through the graveyard of his heart. “Mia, I am here.”
Mia blinked. “You came.”
Ilya’s heart cracked in two. “Of course I came. I will always come for you.” Ilya didn’t spare a glance toward the administrative staff, never allowed his eyes to leave his daughter’s face, as he spoke. “I am taking my daughter home now. She will not be in school tomorrow. Mark absence as excused, please.”
His hands found Mia’s, cold and clammy and trembling. Ilya held steady for the both of them.
The drive home was more of the same, unbearable silence. Ilya tunneled down deep into his soul, searching for words to a sentiment that might not have been strong enough.
“Talk to me, Malyshka.” Ilya settled on. Mia flinched.
“I’m not sure what to say.” Mia’s gaze was fixed out the window. Orange and red in hue, the autumn leaves were a blurry backdrop to what Ilya knew Mia’s mind might be like.
“Did you know parent who-” Ilya couldn’t finish the thought. It was the first place his mind went. The most important question. Mia didn’t have a mother - if this parent was a stand-in of sorts, Ilya had to know. He would be there for his daughter in a way no parent had ever been there for him.
“What?” Mia sniffled. “No. No, I never met her. We aren’t friends outside of school, really.”
“Are you-” Fuck. This option was so much scarier. “You are upset because maybe you have felt this way in the past?” Silence. “There is no wrong answer. If you’ve been sad like that, is no judgement. I just need to know so I can help.” He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t cry. His cheeks were wet, though.
He was crying. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ily registered that perhaps this wasn’t what Mia needed. Perhaps, this was making it harder for her. He would wrangle his emotions. At the very least, he could try.
“What? Papa, no.” Mia gasped. “No. No, I’m not sad for me.”
“Why are you so sad then, angel?” The steering wheel was in danger of snapping under Ilya’s grip. “Is very sad thing, yes. But you look very devastated.”
“I’m sorry, Papa.” Far too quiet, Mia’s voice broke.
“Do not apologize for being sad. I just need to understand to help.” Tears choked out Ilya’s throat, but he wouldn’t let them fall.
“No. No for this morning. I’m sorry.” Mia turned her head, fully facing Ilya. Rain beat the windshield harder yet. Something was wrong. Ilya had missed something. Ilya pulled off the road into the first parking lot he saw.
“Is no big deal, Mia. This right now is much bigger deal.”
“It’s the same thing.” Mia’s fists hit her things. Ilya’s hands flamed over Mia’s smaller ones.
“Do not hurt yourself. Breathe, Mia. You are acting like your Daddy right now. Thinking too fast, not letting my brain catch up.” Ilya tried to joke, but Mia’s breaths hitched violently. “Mia explain, please. Is not same thing, no? What happened to your friend’s mom is tragedy. This morning’s argument was about outfit. Not the same.”
“I was mean to you.” Mia’s words crackled around a sob.
“Is okay.” Wet and forced, a smirk crawled across Ilya’s lips. “You are not so scary. You are about mean as baby kitten, also like your Daddy. You are very much like your Daddy sometimes, now that I think of it.” And thank God for that.
“No. No because… nevermind.” Mia’s face fell to her lap. “I need to be more careful.”
“You know I am pretty tough, Mia. Many moons ago, I played hockey. Got hit daily. You should know this. You have all my old jerseys.” The joke fell flat.
“No. It’s not the same.” She was talking, yes, but there was so much more left unsaid than there was anything Mia did say.
“Tell me, Mia. I promise is okay.” Ilya’s English was damn near flawless at this point, but emotion like this still stilted his vocabulary. “I don’t understand right now. I need to help. I will help you, but I need information. Do not block me out now.” Ilya swallowed. “Never. Please.”
“Promise?” Face crinkled into a river of tears and snot, Mia mouthed more than she spoke.
“I swear to you, my angel.”
“I know… your mom.” Mia robbed Ilya of her eye contact. “This same thing happened with her, right?” Mia’s jaw slackened, perhaps in shock she just uttered those words aloud. “I’m sorry, Papa. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Relax please, baby girl. Is not secret. There are no secrets between you and me. Never. Yes.” Ilya spoke slowly, gripping the wheel tighter. He blinked slowly as lightning crested across the horizon. “My mother was very sad woman. Is why your Daddy and I started charity.”
“Do you…” Mia stilled. Ilya rubbed slow circles into her shoulders. “You don’t get sad like that, right?”
For a moment, Ilya couldn’t speak. His mouth didn’t move. His brain may as well have vacated his head. Maybe it did. This was not a conversation he’d wanted to have with his daughter.
“Malyshka, where is this coming from?” Shane should be here for this. Fuck, Ilya wished Shane was here; he was better at this kind of thing. Calmer.
“Answer the question, Papa.” Mia’s voice was strong through its wobble. Dry and aching, Ilya’s throat forced words out all the same. “If we’re talking about this, then we’re talking about this. Answer the question, please.” So much like Shane.
“A long time ago, I did. Or I thought I would, anyway. I was afraid when I was younger that I was doomed.” Ilya’s thumb and forefinger gripped Mia’s chin like a lifeline as her breath hitched. “But, and this is very important for you to hear, I found a life I wanted to be here for. I was very lonely as child. But I met your Daddy as adult. I met friends as adult. I found you. I never knew happiness like this as child. Never. I promise this is not something I would do to you; I lived through this as child. I will not make you do same.”
“I just got so scared.” Ilya hated Mia’s words, the very conception of her fear, but he loved that she was finally talking. “It’ss stupid, I know.”
“No. Your feelings cannot be stupid. They are yours.” Ilya swallowed. “Of what were you so scared?”
“Well.” Mia gulped. “Well we all heard what happened. I just remembered, um.” Mia’s fingers worried across the rough hewn fabric of her jeans. “I was so mean to you. And then this happened and it all seemed so possible. What if I said something and you did the same thing? Or what if you heard about this happening, and you wanted to do it too? You know?”
“Oh.” Ilya’s skin chilled. “Oh, no, baby. You could never.” Ilya planted his hands on either side of Mia’s shoulders. Idly, he wondered which was stronger - the force of the rain outside, or the combined force of Ilya’s and Mia’s tears. “No. First of all, I promise I will not leave you like that. Mental health is complicated, but I have worked with therapist for years. I run charity to help fight suicide. I am doing well. You never need to worry about this for me. I can assure you.” Ilya laid a finger over Mia’s mouth as she moved to speak. “But, if you are ever worried about anyone - me, your Daddy, yourself, random person at lunch, whoever - please don’t be scared to talk to me. You won’t ever put idea in my head; please do not worry about that. Second, Mia, and I need you to hear this too.”
“Okay.”
“Having a little fight with your family is normal. You don’t ever have to be careful around me. You are one of best things in my life. You and your daddy are two most important people in my whole world; I would give up right hand for you. Probably left hand too. No, definitely left hand too. Could never coach hockey again. Would be very big news story.” Mia didn’t return Ilya’s smirk. “Nothing you could do or say would ever make me want to leave you. Not in any way. Not ever. I have said it before, but I will say again. Tell me anything, Mia. Tell me everything. Tell me if you’re hungry. Tell me if you hate teacher. Tell me if your friends are boring. Or mean. But especially tell me if you’re scared, or worried.” Ilya heaved a sigh. “And promise me that if you ever feel depressed, or just off, you will tell me this too. Please.”
“I was mean. I was so mean. If I could take it back, I would.” Mia sobbed outright this time. “I love you. I need you to know that. You have always let me know that you love me, and I just felt… I was like ‘what if he doesn’t know?’ ‘What if he thinks I hate him?’ I almost threw up in class.”
“Baby, you are mean like little bunny. I have already forgotten.” Ilya’s eyes glinted in some amalgamation of grief and relief. “I was actually baking pie to make you feel better. We were going to talk about your little outburst. See how to avoid next time. You are cranky in the mornings, just like Daddy.” Ilya smirked. “Is little bit funny.”
“You baked a pie?”
“Was about to. Then you needed me, so no pie went into oven.” Ilya flicked his windshield wipers, and pulled back onto the road. “We can finish together, if you want.”
“And then we can cuddle maybe?” Mia hastened. “If that’s okay.”
“You will sleep in our bed tonight, Mia. I am not letting you out of my sight today. You said you were worried. Well, I worry too. About you. Is my job to worry, not yours. Of course we can cuddle. We will cuddle and eat whole pie while Daddy eats salmon or something.”
“He should eat pie with us.” Mia smirked.
“I bet you can convince him. That little smile can convince world of anything.” Their garage finally loomed ahead, and just in time.
Shane must have gotten the same phone call. His frantic pacing flooded the apartment. Ilya swore he could see Shane’s hair separating from his scalp by the fistful.
“Where the hell were you two? I was so worried. I can’t, I can’t…” Shane’s voice hitched. He bent to hug Mia. “Are you okay, baby?” He sent a silent, worried glance up to Ilya.
Are you okay?
“This one is so much like you, Shane. Both very worried. We had nice talk in car.” Ilya allowed his voice to fall into that cool, easy cadence it slipped into on the ice a decade before. “We are all sleeping in same bed tonight. Too much worry.”
“Obviously.” Shane huffed. “Baby, were you crying?” His neck craned to Mia.
“I was worried. About Papa. We talked, though, but… I thought I made everything worse. This morning. And I’m so sorry, I was awful.” Mia sobbed into Shane’s collar.
“Awful? Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Shane sighed, clutching Mia more tightly to his chest. “This isn’t your fault.”
“She means her morning cranky fest.” Ilya’s words were a joke, but his eyes… they conveyed everything they possibly could. ‘Follow my lead,’ Ilya hoped they said. And in that way that only two souls who have been so intertwined perfectly in their own imperfections, Shane nodded over Mia’s head. “Very funny.” Ilya continued. “We are all eating pie and cuddling now.”
“Oh I don’t need pie.” Shane protested.
“Please, Daddy.” Ilya smirked as his daughter, their daughter, wielded her doe eyed gaze against Shane. Shane’s own charm, though not blood related, had entirely passed to Mia. Now, Ilya could wield it as a weapon against his husband.
How had Ilya gotten so lucky? How had this become his life?
“Fine. I will eat pie with you.” Shane sighed. “Menaces, the both of you.”
“But.” Ilya hesitated. “Mia must promise. We all must make promise. We all talk to each other about troubles. This mental health thing is no joke. We all talk about mental health. Regular check ins. Because we all care. We all love each other. Before pie. I will hold pie hostage until promise is made. I start. I promise to always talk to you two, about myself, and about any worries about either of you.” Ilya’s eyes locked on Mia’s. “Immediately.”
“I promise, too.” Shane echoed.
“I love you both.” Mia’s voice wobbled, small but mighty. “And I promise.”
And in that instance, Ilya knew. His life was everything he had dreamed of. He wasn’t sure how, or why, or what he had done to deserve it. This, though, wasn’t something he’d give up for the world.