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Edmée Borgov-Harmon is turning one year old. Not that she is not already proficient in keeping her parents busy, but the day before the party, which is to be held on her birthday, had seen them particularly so. Cleaning the house, buying and preparing the food, wrapping presents. The only saving grace being that Townes had arrived in time to help with most things, including babysitting while they got to go out and eat at a restaurant in the evening after putting their precious little daughter to bed. It had made for a more restful evening and peaceful sleep, meaning they could wake up feeling rested and relaxed that morning, ready to tackle an even more eventful day.
And here they are, a few hours after breakfast, working to get the last of the preparations in order. Beth is laying the extended table in the dining room, Vasya is baking a cake and Townes is with Edmée in the nursery, patiently finding all her babblings to be the most interesting things ever said in the entire history of mankind.
While she lays down the last plate and smooths out the little crease she accidentally made in the tablecloth with it she smiles as she thinks of those babblings that have recently taken a few more solid forms. Their daughter can now say mama and papa, as well as hi - though it sounds more like ai - and bye while waving, and the most recent addition being balle for one of her favourite toys. The little doll made out of fabric she adores and carries with her everywhere is still doudou, though. It had arrived in a package from Moscow, that also included a letter from Luchenko, congratulating them on the birth of their child and wishing them happiness and as much sleep as possible. But that was as far as the Kremlin would allow him to go and they would have to continue hoping to be able to see him again some other time.
She hears the sound of tiny footsteps out in the hallway just as she places the last knife and fork perfectly aligned with that last plate, ending the noise of jostled cutlery, and tiptoes over to the open door to peek out and see what is going on. With her dark hair and bright blue eyes, Edmée is determinately making her way towards the door to the kitchen, having already passed where she stands. Her feet are bare, no doubt having pulled off her socks once more, and her romper still holds that stain of porridge since breakfast. There is no point in putting on something else when there is still over two hours until the guests arrive and she will have to change into her brand new little blue dress anyway.
Townes moves down the hallway a little bit behind, his eyes trained on the today-to-be-toddler with all the love his status as honorary uncle gives him. If they had been religious, he would have been godfather for sure. He has always been good with people, and even the very smallest ones are seemingly no exception, and despite the few times they have met so far, Edmée has always been delighted with his company.
"Papa!" the little girl shouts in joy when she reaches the open door to the kitchen and her chubby little legs speed up into a still somewhat wobbly and slow run.
"Zaychonuk!" she hears Vasya respond with, the Russian endearment warming her heart.
Then a shriek followed by a giggle can be heard and she knows her husband has swept up their daughter and let her be airborne for a few short moments before settling her on his hip in that way he does with such ease. Townes has stopped next to her now, a bemused smile on his face.
"He's such a wonderful father" he says, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.
She has thought the same thing countless times and never seems to stop marvelling at his easy display of love for or ease of handling Edmée. Not that she is surprised by it - well, not anymore - but rather unable to look away from such an endearing and exemplary vision of fatherly love. It is everything she did not get. At least that she can remember, having no idea what her birthfather was like when she was a baby. A faint memory of a smile she has no clue if it is even real is all she has to go on.
Together they walk a little further and place themselves so they can look into the kitchen, leaning against one doorjamb each . The now one-year-old is, as expected, sitting snugly on her father's hip, resting against his side with one strong arm securely around her body, watching in fascination as he turns the electric mixer back on and pours the already measured milk inside.
"This is going to be a cake for you, zaychonuk" he says in Russian, "for your very first birthday. You will even be allowed to taste a little bit of it."
Edmée babbles something back at him while pulling on the grey string of the apron he is wearing.
"Why yes, little one. There will be lots and lots of presents for you, no need to worry. Your mama and I have listened to all your wishes and have made them come true.
"Mama?" their daughter asks and looks around, spotting her where she stands and reaches her arms out in demand. "Mama!"
Vasya turns his head to look at them too, that one of his smiles she has long since learned belongs to her alone appearing instantly.
"Do you want to go to your mama?" he asks, then leans down and places her on the floor when she nods.
Edmée runs towards her as best she can, arms still outstretched, an unbridled joy in her face without a hint of fear that she will not be received. And neither is there any thought or even slightest impulse in Beth herself that she will not lean down so she can catch her daughter. It is not always the easiest to be a mother, but she will never be anything even close to Alice or even the for so long hesitant Alma. Though, she has no idea of what kind of mother Alma was the first time she had a child, or for how long she got to be one, and the only person she knows to ask is someone she refuses to seek out for any reason whatsoever. No, Beth is a loving mother who will never give her child a reason to doubt her affection.
"I'll go and finish the table" Townes says when she has risen back up with an armful of newly minted toddler, and reaches out to ruffle Edmée’s dark locks before turning around to leave with big blue eyes on his back.
"Bye" Edmée says and waves her tiny hand over her mother’s shoulder.
"I'll be back soon, sweetheart" Townes replies, but obliges with a wave in return.
"How's it going?" Beth asks as she moves forward while swaying her hips in an almost dance to entertain her daughter with the motion and even making a pirouette about halfway.
"Good. Maybe ten more minutes until I can put it in the oven. It will be ready in plenty of time for the steak to go both in and out of there for its final stretch before it is time to serve lunch. Is everything else in hand?"
"More or less. There's not much point in looking for any stray toys to put away for at least another hour, or this little munchkin will simply replace them first chance she gets before her nap. Isn't that right you little menace" she says, the last part in a silly singsong voice while she tickles her daughter, who giggles in delight in that wonderfully familiar way.
The guests arrive on time, filling the place with chatter and play as the adults mingle while the mostly very young children explore the place or enjoy all the toys in either the nursery or the ones placed in the living room. Edmée looks overwhelmed at all the new faces at first, but soon bonds with the other toddlers present and eagerly introduces them to her doudou, though holding the doll tightly to her chest and refusing to let them play with it.
The only person to arrive slightly late, and expectedly so, is Jolene. Her studies had kept her from arriving as early as Townes and some bad weather had delayed her flight by a day. She gives Beth a bone crushing hug - having not seen each other in a few months - and then a briefer yet still affectionate one to Vasya before going in search of the birthday girl, no doubt to squeeze the life out of her. Jolene would obviously have been the godmother had they bothered with such things.
Despite the momentous and joyous occasion, Beth has abstained from wearing any of her absolute favourite dresses, just as Vasya has done the same in regard to his suits. Because when it comes to feeding their daughter, she sometimes feels the need to get more than usually messy about it and neither of them wish to get either food or cake on their best clothes. At least they have more than enough clothes that can be worn to an informal party like this that they could risk by now. Not that Beth had lacked such range for a long time, but she had only managed to cajole her husband into buying enough to be able to say the same about ten months ago. Before that he had insisted on calling it an unnecessary extravagance for himself and that he had no problem to get around on what he already owned, but the addition of a baby in their lives had made him change his mind. Particular after he had forgotten to place a towel over his shoulder when burping Edmée one afternoon and got her vomit all over a shirt he was particularly fond of.
The man is not frugal, but while he is an ardent admirer of her in a stylish dress – and particularly fond of when he gets to peel it off of her - so long as he looks presentable he cares little more for his own apparel. It had been an initial frustration for Beth, being well aware that he is fully capable of not only looking very dapper but also irresistible in a suit with the right cut. Her most successful approach to changing his behaviour has naturally been to show just how much she appreciates it when he goes that extra mile, but even so, it had been Edmée that pushed him that last bit.
Lunch is eaten about an hour after the party started and the children has exerted some of their energy and curiosity about a new place for those who had not been there before or were too young to remember. As is the norm, Vasya's cooking is highly complimented and his special little dishes for the children looked at with great appreciation by the parents once they realise what they are.
They take turns feeding their daughter, sitting on each side of her, and trying to make her eat as much as possible of the mashed potatoes, small pieces of meat boiled so softly they almost fall apart on their own, and boiled pieces of carrots and beans. The last two items are placed so she can eat them herself, while the first two are handled by more experienced hands.
One hand smudged with a mixture of most items in her lunch reaches out, fast as lightning, when Vasya offers her another little spoonful of food and grabs hold of the sleave of his suit, transferring most of the goo to the grey fabric. Her eyes go wide when she lets go and sees the mess she has left behind before a giggle escapes her.
"Papa!" she shouts in delight, clapping her hands. "Papa ush ush."
"Yes, you seem to be right, zaychonuk. Your papa is indeed in need of cleaning" her father replies with a fondness that is barely exasperated, but then proceeds to simply remove the suit jacket and remain in his shirt before continuing to feed their little troublemaker while being more mindful of staying out of her reach as much as possible. It is not the first time he has had to do so.
Being off feeding duty for the moment allows Beth to focus more on the conversations floating around the table, mostly in French of course, but one in English. Jolene and Townes have, for obvious reasons, been placed next to each other, and are talking about some big political happening back in the States she does not care to learn more about. She has left politics as far behind her as is possible these days, happy to focus only on her family, friends, and chess. The last one is made a lot easier by being the reigning World Champion, meaning she does not have to go through the rigours of the Interzonal or Candidates Matches after claiming the title from her dear Vasya. And he remains uninterested in trying for it again, saying he is much happier to support her when it is time to defend her spot at the top and only go to tournaments that work with first their marriage and now their little family. And with their combined skills there is never any lack of prize money, and they can live very comfortably despite being picky and now having the added cost of a child.
When lunch is over, and the dishes have been transferred to the kitchen it is time for opening the gifts. They move to the living room where Edmée is placed in the middle of the room and Beth sits down next to her while Vasya is in charge of handing over the presents one at a time. Blue eyes, so alike her father’s, look up at them in confusion when she is presented with the first package, wrapped in green paper. Christmas is too far back for her young mind to still retain any memories of the procedure.
“Papa?” she asks looking up at him, before turning around to her, “mama?”
“You’re supposed to open it, munchkin. Take away all that green so you can see what’s inside” she explains. “Here, let me show you.”
Clever little girl that she is, their daughter soon catches on and starts ripping into the paper with her little hands, removing fistful after fistful and throwing them away. Her grin is a mile wide and Beth barely registers the sound of Townes taking pictures for them while she basks in the delight of her daughter. A daughter she will do her very best to keep this happy as much as possible and never ever let her experience something even close to what she had to go through.
A knob puzzle with a few pets emerges from the wrapping and Edmée looks at it funny while her mother opens the box for her so she can try it out for a few moments before moving on to the next gift. She appears fascinated by the fact that she can lift up parts from the wooden board with a simple painted motif on top, but predictably the piece she has taken hold of soon ends up in her mouth. Some new teeth have just started to appear, and she is forever putting things in her mouth to try them out on. It takes Beth a little while to wrestle the thing from Edmée’s strong grip and then Vasya is blessedly quick with distracting her with a pink package. And so it goes on and on until the last one is ripped open and the content chewed on even if it is a dress she will probably not grow into for another two or three months. At that point, after realising there are no more gifts coming her way and that the game she no doubt has seen it as is over, their daughter grabs the colourful rattle that had been her eight present. As rattles go, it is a blessedly muted sound and Beth shoot the Renauds a grateful look. But with two rambunctious children of their own, she guesses they have learned the hard way how to choose such thoughtful gifts.
Townes moves in close to take a few more pictures before getting dragged into playing with his honorary niece while Jolene comes up to Beth after Vasya lets her know he will go and start on the coffee. It takes a one-year-old a while to open so many gifts, and the time for cake is fast approaching.
“So, one year being a parent, huh” her friend comments as she sidles up next to her so they both can watch Townes being handed building block after building block with some very random letters on them and stacking them into a tower Edmée is inevitably going to topple before long.
“Yeah. Can’t believe it’s gone by so fast. I know it’s cliché, but it really seems like it’s only yesterday I held her in my arms the first time.”
“She really was tiny back then. Not that she’s not very small still, but there’s just that special something about a new-born. And they’re so dependant unlike now when she’s toddling around, almost running and not hesitating at all to let you know when she doesn’t like or want something.”
“She does know her own mind, yes” she replies, shaking her head minutely as she thinks back on some of the times her daughter had shown her displeasure over something, either by crying or, as she had started doing more recently, trying to stand her ground. The most frustrating ones are the supposedly contradictory situations when she first does not want to get into her bath and then makes a fuss when it is time to get out of it.
“Like her mama?” Jolene asks, bumping her shoulder playfully against Beth’s.
“Yes, but tempered by her papa. He swears he was a very calm and obliging child and I can easily believe it. There’s even some old video footage of him at a simultaneous when he was seven they used in a chess documentary I saw a long time ago. He was so adorable with his hair neatly combed, wearing what seemed to be a school uniform, and looking so abashed. His mother was there too and outside one small photo he still has, it’s the only likening of her that remains since their home was destroyed during the war. She was beautiful and by the way she looked at him, it’s easy to see how much she loved him. I wish she could still be around so she could see this. See her granddaughter and look at her the same way. Have someone I could ask about this that’d be family rather than friend.”
Jolene reaches out and takes hold of her hand, pressing it tight and she turns away from her daughter just long enough so she can give her friend a somewhat watery smile. Ever since she found out she was pregnant and then had her daughter, she has not only started to think about Ekaterina Borgov, but also missed Alma a lot more than during the years before. Alice remains a distant shadow she has no desire to dredge back up to the surface, but the longing the thought of her chosen mother interacting with her grandchild produces in her shows there are still a few empty spaces in her heart. They are shrinking, but still there. Probably always will be. The trick is to be able to wrap them up with as much love as possible, so their jagged edges are polished into smoothness, turning stabbing pain into a dull ache.
“Do you see anything of her in Edmée?”
“I think it’s hard to tell at this age. While they’re not identical, there’s a softness to both hers and Vasya’s smiles that I think Edmée’s got too. I guess we’ll see what happens when she grown even older.”
“She’ll be absolutely gorgeous, is what she’ll be. And scary smart.”
“I don’t really care about that. I just want her to grow up happy and safe.”
To give her what neither of us ever fully had, are the unspoken words between them.
But neither of them is given the chance to dwell on that mostly shared past when the sound of building blocks tumbling to the floor is heard and they turn back to the birthday girl. Just as predicted, she has toppled the tower Townes built of her and after recovering from the noise herself she lifts up her right hand and waves at the rubble.
“Bye bye.”
They all return to the dining room for the cake, seeing the extreme impracticality of trying to feed several toddlers without having them in their highchairs, or having cups of coffee and tea standing around in an environment where the children could move around more freely. All the little ones are given pieces of fruit and Edmée happily picks up her own as they give them to her one at a time, knowing from experience that she is liable to stuff her mouth full if given all at the same time due to how much she loves them. If they are not quick enough, however, she reaches out towards them with her little hand, flexing her fingers in a demanding grip and pouting.
“Plu’!” she insists, not yet fully having mastered the ‘s’ sound and using the French expression since that is the language they use the most with her, wanting her to be able to interact with her peers as easily as possible. Not that English or Russian are not a part of their daily lives. They have taught her to refer to them according to their own native tongues at least, which are blessedly similar. And she has learned the English words for informal greetings and goodbyes, being easier than the French ones, no doubt from listening to her mother talking on the phone with her American friends.
Similar requests can be heard from around the table in various stages of language skills, for both fruit and cake, and Beth is happy she has been at parties for young children before, most of whom are present. It is such a different environment to the events where only adults are among the guests, like the countless dinners, parties, and banquets she has attended at chess tournaments over the years, not to mention her friends’ birthday parties. There is somehow so much more thought going into it, since everything from clothes, to food, to logistics, and timing have to be considered in a whole new way. Just finding enough highchairs to borrow had been such a hassle, and had only worked due to a few of their guests having enough space in their cars to bring their own. Then Vasya cooking special food for the children since he wanted to still be able to do something fancy for the adults, but going easy on the cake so they would have something that was for everyone. Or that they had to break up from the table a lot sooner, because children do not want to sit still for too long. And despite all that planning, things can still turn into chaos in mere moments, because children are unpredictable. Especially when put together into a large group. But it is also such an endearing sight to see the next generation grow and play together.
More than one of the littlest guests have fallen asleep by the time the party wraps up and lies cosily against one of their parents’ shoulders, oblivious to the world around them, as the adults thank them once more for being invited before bidding adieu. Only Jolene and Townes remain, the former carrying an armful of drowsy toddler to the nursery to be put down for a second nap while the latter helps Beth with the dishes. Vasya is cleaning up all the toys and other various things strewn around the apartment and putting all the borrowed chairs – high and normal both – in one area of the dining room close to the door so he can easily collect them the next day when it is time to return them.
“Need any help?”
Beth turns around to find Jolene in the entrance to the kitchen, almost unconsciously trying to right her hair, which means despite her sleepiness Edmée was unable to resist the temptation of grabbing hold of it. At least her friend had quickly learned not to wear any large earrings when in company with her honorary niece, or any other young children for that matter the last time they met.
“Maybe bring me a new towel and then help put everything away” Beth replies, dangling the by now almost drenched piece of cloth at her friend before returning to doing her best to dry one of the small plates used for the cake.
The three of them work in companiable silence, almost like a conveyor belt which transforms dirty dishes into first cleans ones, then dry ones, and then sees them back up into the cupboards or down into the drawers. Only the vinyl Vasya has put on in the living room sounds above the little noises produced by them, and after the constant energy when all their guests were there, it is so wonderfully peaceful. Not that she has not learned to thrive in large groups and loves having so many and so good friends, but at heart she is a quiet person, and it is in such moments her true contentment lies.
After a lazy rest of the afternoon and early evening of just talking with her husband and friends while they either all play with Edmée at the same time or take turn, it is time to put her daughter down for the night before they have a light supper. Their guests are in the kitchen, while both she and Vasya prepares their daughter for bed. They are both splashed on while she takes her bath, pulling one arm each through the sleeves of the onesie she sleeps in and then sit down all three in the small - and very child friendly in all of its plushiness – couch in the nursery to read a story each to her.
As usual, they allow her to pick out the two books and she does not hesitate to go for the ones they have read almost exclusively the past three weeks, them being her favourite right now. She even carries them over to the couch and Vasya accepts them from her so Beth can pull her up into her lap where she quickly settles before pointing to one of the books.
“’et” she says very decidedly.
Blue eyes go from darting around the pictures in the books and up at them to slowly becoming more and more hidden behind heavy eyelids. Vasya has not even finished his book before Beth can feel her daughter’s body slack against her, which is a clear sign she has fallen asleep. Just to make sure she is deeper than a slumber she will be jostled out of as soon as they try to move her, he reads the last three pages too.
“Seems she’s really out” she comments when he has closed the book and put it aside along with hers.
He leans forward so he can see Edmée’s face better, carefully stroking away a lock of dark hair that has fallen over one of her eyes, regarding her for a few seconds before nodding his agreement. And indeed, she does not so much as stir when Beth stands up and transfer her as gently as she can down into her crib, after pressing a kiss to her head and allowing her husband to do the same, and tucks her in.
“I can’t believe she’s been with us for a year already” she whispers as they remain standing there, regarding the one thing in their lives they see as more important and precious than each other.
“I know” is his reply, the weight of his feeling in his tone rather than his words, and he places an arm around her waist and pulls her in even closer to his side.
“I was thinking about our mothers earlier, and mentioning yours to Jolene” she says after a little while of silence. “It would be so wonderful if they could both have been here today.”
“Yes. My mother… well… for as much as I only knew her as a child, I know family was the most important thing in the world to her and she would be even worse than us with smothering Edmée with affection. Then again, she might have insisted on moving in to help us take care of her and while having grandparents available as babysitters is a wonderful thing, I do want it to be only the two of you here with me most of the time.”
“I doubt Alma would have wanted such a thing. She would much more have preferred living in a lovely apartment closer to the city centre, but with easy access to come here by the metro. Being able to live her own life to the fullest while still close to family. Found a nice Frenchman to have a dalliance or maybe even something more with.”
“I am sure she would have, lyubimaya. She deserved so much more from life than she was dealt.”
Beth thinks how close she had come to end up the same way. Stuck in addiction and failure, but she had had better luck with her friends and then the man she fell in love with and married. They had helped her help herself out of that destructive spiral, the way Alma had really only had her to rely on for help with. Her, a teenager at the time with her own problems. In hindsight it had been easier to identify the problematic aspects of their relationship, but it had been the best they were capable of at the time, and it had still helped Beth enormously. I fact, she has little idea where she might be in life if not for her adoption. In all likelihood nowhere near where she is now.
“Hey. Come back to me, my love” she hears the soft baritone of her husband say as he draws her fully into his embrace, but with her back to his chest so they can still both regard their sleeping little treasure. “Let the past rest. This is a day of celebration and looking to the future.”
“Yes” she says and opens her eyes after not realising she had closed them.
They stand in silence for another few minutes, spellbound in the way only their daughter can manage, when his arms around her loosens just enough so he can place his hands over her midsection.
“I’m not saying right now in any way, dear, but do you think you would ever want another one?”
“Do you?”
“With you, yes. But only so long as you want it too. If you want to continue taking the pill for as long as you can still conceive, I am fine with that. It is simply that I find myself much more attached to fatherhood this time around, and I would not mind adding another little person to love as deeply as I do you and Edmée. But if it is to be so, the two of you are more than enough and more than I thought I would ever have for such a long time.”
“I wouldn’t mind another one. Two children should be alright to handle too, seeing as we can deal with one each when they inevitably squabble over something. However, I do insist that we wait until after the World Championship match next year. I refuse to be either pregnant or have a new-born to care for while trying to defend my title. Or heaven forbid, being due sometime during it. Could you imagine the outrage?”
“Oh, believe me, I can” he says with a chuckle. “But I do agree with you. We wait until after that at the very least. We can’t expect to have the same luck with timing as we did with Edmée a second time. And any other tournament or match is expendable.”
“You know, in a way I long for the day I don’t hold the title any longer and can focus as much as I want on our family.”
“I know, lyubimaya. I know” he whispers in her ear before bending down and kissing her neck. “It can be a terrible burden sometimes to be at the top. But I’ll always be here for you, no matter what you want or do not want to do.”
“Even if I end up quitting chess altogether right now? Even refuse to play here at home with you?”
“Even then. But since I know it would bore you to death to do such a thing, I truly have no compunction in making such a promise. I would give you a week at most before you would give up and come begging me for a game.”
“Your faith in me is truly inspirational” she remarks dryly and pokes him lightly in the thigh before raising both her hands to intertwine them with his, letting them rest over her midsection together.
“I would rather say that I know you too well to be fooled by empty threats. Just as you know me so well you can tell when I start to withdraw into myself and easily pull me out of it before I turn myself into a recluse from everyone but you, and now Edmée too. Or tell me off when my fear of losing either of you make me too overprotective, or remind me that my inability to love my first child has no bearing on the love I feel for our daughter.”
“And you know all of my flaws too and help me with them, so I guess that makes us even” she replies and manages to break the spell and crane her neck so she can look up at him, not in the mood to list them all in a moment like this, but still wanting convey her gratitude to him properly.
He joins her in reality and bends down and kisses her. But just then their daughter moves and lets out a tiny sigh and they both stiffen before carefully looking back down at her with breaths held. She is still sound asleep, but best not to take any more chances and in silent agreement they tiptoe out of the room and close the door almost all the way, needing to be able to hear if she wakes up.
“Well, smells like the food’s almost ready” she says, still feeling and looking a bit sheepish.
“Townes mentioned something about his special pasta Bolognese” Vasya replies.
“One of the few things he can cook with dependably good results, so let’s not stand about here all night and let it get cold” she says and takes his hand so she can pull him along towards the kitchen further down the hallway.
He supresses his laughter while he allows himself to be lead, not wanting to make any too loud noises until enough distance has been put between them and the nursery.
Their friends greet them with knowing smiles when they enter before ushering them to the already laid table. It is indeed Townes’ special dish on the menu, and they all enjoy their food while the conversation flows freely, covering all kinds of topics from comparing French and Italian cuisine, a scandalous novel Beth read recently after needing something as far removed from chess books as possible after overindulging on them, to the recent article on a newly started dog show in Lexington a colleague of Townes’ had had to write recently and grumbled about for days.
As is the case for most parents with young children – as well as their guests – that do not want to suffer from any more lack of sleep than necessary, they go to bed early. Too tired after such an eventful day, all Beth and Vasya do after brushing their teeth and changing into their nightclothes is to crawl in under the blanket and close their eyes. But even in the moment before she falls asleep, feeling the warmth of her husband right next to her, Beth still senses the echo of their intertwined hands over her midsection. It has been there all night, a tiny tingling sensation that is a promise of things yet to come. The last year has gone by so fast, yet it is still difficult for her to think back on a time when Edmée was not with them. As if there is something paramount missing from all those memories, be they good or bad. If she instead looks about a year into the future, when she has either lost or kept a title she still cares a lot about but not as much as before, she might just find the beginning of another life she will be unable to fathom her existence without. Another part of her family waiting for her love. A love she now knows is boundless.