Story: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is
Chapter 8 Christmas!!
Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)
Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex
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Peter and Eric experience Christmas and the traditions in Makarovia. Again, there are words and dishes unique to Eastern Europe. It may not be Christmas now, but it still is wonderous. Words and meanings are explained. Enjoy!
Christmas!!
The noisy chaos continued. Olek took the box of letters and disappeared with it.
"All those kids expect their letters to be delivered," I said quietly to Peter. "In America, there are agencies that help. There are other places sent the mail to Santa...what do you do with those?"
Peter smiled. "Send them to St. Nicholas!"
I looked at him with eyes that said to tell me a new one.
Peter nodded and waved at Olek. "Really." He chuckled shaking his head. "Where's your belief in magic?"
"Peter," I grumbled folding my arms across my chest.
Peter smiled. "We don't have agencies, but..." he nodded and waved at where Olek had gone. "We read them. Olek, Mom and even I will...we can't grant them many wishes, but if it's not too expensive, they will find what they're looking for. The many childless families are willing to help when they can. We didn't have a lot of money before, but we also can get more truth from them many times than we can from the parents of the children sending the letters. Finding out what the child understands about what the parents' need...even if its groceries or something the parents were heard voiced they thought they could use. The children hear a lot and will pass it on."
"So, no requests for the X-Box or latest video game, Barbie Doll?"
Peter chuckled. "We get those, but being as small a country, we know they may not have the TV or something they want simply isn't feasible. Since they lack things, they often don't know what is out there. The requests are usually so...the requests are simpler." He shrugged. "There are the usual requests not to be cold."
I smiled and nodded. "Even the real St. Nicholas may not be able to help there."
"That's right, but maybe more wood or coal is delivered," Peter explained. "Many times, a child's observations are not quite accurate, but perceptive. Requests for Mom or Dad often are them not to be sad or angry as much. With the help of neighbors and friends, we can try to help."
"All over Makarovia?"
"The other towns have the same things happening and the needs are read and if they can, they help. It's not perfect..."
I smiled pulling him in closer and kissed him. "You try."
Peter gave a shrugging nod. "Yes. We do."
It was a few minutes more and we saw Helga return. When Olek returned to the ballroom he instantly brightened hugging her and gave her deep kiss. He didn't care how she was dressed, but that she was here! Seeing them together was now...normal.
The next day we went to take the underground passages just to get out. After our coffees and looking at what was happening down there, we returned to the palace. The underground access was not yet connected to the palace, so we had to come out to the cold world to get back in the palace. I saw the snowcat parked next to the palace and didn't think about it. Helga often had to take one to go to work. The thick fur coats we wore helped keep the cold out. They may not have looked that great on the outside, but they were warm. Sorry, PETA. Seeing those drawing and other things were cavemen wore skins, I no longer thought they'd be cold. As we approached the palace entrance, two thickly dressed uniformed men in those long coats walked toward us.
"Your Highness." General Hammond bowed slightly to Peter and turned to me. "Eric." He grinned.
"Hello, Edmond!" I greeted.
"Hi, Eric." General Burke greeted from beside General Hammond. "Hello, Peter." He grinned waving at Peter. "You two look like bears! You're probably warm, but look like bears."
"They work." I shrugged.
Edmond walked closer to Peter and me. "We were doing some work below and we needed to see your brother." General Edmond explained. "I got your message. You have some guests coming from England?"
"Drew Humphries and his husband Wayne." I nodded. "The reporter from the BBC?"
General Hammond nodded. "Ah, yes. I've seen him." He smiled. "On television."
"Right, they became friends with Peter and I," I waved at Peter. "They want to come here the last week of December. Is there a military flight coming that week?"
"Certainly." The general nodded.
"Can he and Wayne get a ride?"
He nodded. "I'm sure His Majesty won't object since the plane's coming anyway..." his eyes grew from something he was seeing behind me and he quickly blurted. "David! Don't throw that!" He pointed to the other general. "David!!"
Turning to see what Edmond was upset about, I got a face full of snow from the impact of a snowball! It was cold!
"I can't believe you threw that!" Edmond gasped as he helped wipe my face to get rid of the snow. "I am so sorry, My Lord."
After the shock of the cold, I looked up at General Burke who wasn't too worried from the grin on his face as he was preparing another snowball. Peter was staring shocked. I mean, his mouth had dropped open.
"Now," David began holding his hand out to stop...whatever. He looked at Edmond. "That was your fault, Ed! I was going to hit him in the back, but noooo..." he shook his head, "you made him turn around." He defended.
"You're going to blame me for this...unseemly behavior!?" Edmond said crossly at David. Edmond's inevitable proper English manners and David's mischievous face was priceless.
Peter walked toward me worried. "Are you okay?
The combination of Edmond's proper behavior and David's boyish grin and Peter's concern, it just hit me funny and I started laughing. Peter slowed down and started smiling.
"It's just snow," I said as I wiped my face with my gloved hands. I looked at David and pointed at the other snowball he had been making. "What are your plans for that one?"
David's grin got a little malicious. "This." He tossed the loosely balled ball of snow, only this one hit Edmond on the chest making David laugh.
"Really? David!" Edmond frowned as he brushed snow off his coat. "I can't believe you would indulge such childish behavior. You are a leader of men!"
David waved at the area. "There are none of our men here right now." He pointed out.
Peter came up still chuckling as he put his arm around me, but the fur skin was so thick, I barely felt it. "I'm glad you see the humor in this." He said to me as I still chuckled.
"Have you never had a snowball fight?" I asked Peter.
Peter thought a few seconds and shook his head. "I can't say I have." He smiled. "If I have, it's been quite a while."
I bent down and grabbed a little snow. "Then, it's about time you did," I said to him, kissing him and grinned and shoved the snow lightly in his newly stunned face.
"Oh, ha, ha, ha." Peter grimaced and then smiled at me as he wiped his face. "Maybe you're right." He bent down scooped up some snow and shoved some back in my face and bent to get more.
Edmond was shaking his head. "I can not understand grown men behaving like this!" He said indignantly. "I will not participate in this...juvenile activity."
Our reply was three snowballs thrown at Edmond. He looked again shocked. It only took a few seconds before he bent and grabbed some snow and soon it was a real snowball fight. Four boys throwing snow at each other as we each of us dodged snowballs thrown at us! Laughter filled the cold air as we did behave like...boys! For the next few minutes, the fight continued unabated. I watched as we did, both generals were in good shape, but our varied ages were playing parts in our ability to do this. I was puffing as I exerted myself.
I held my hand up. "Okay!" I shouted evening out my breathing. "As much fun as this has been, I think that's enough." I chuckled.
"Agreed." David nodded as he brushed snow from his coat. He bounced. "This was fun!"
I grabbed Edmond in a hug. "It's nice you don't have to be a stuffy Brit all the time."
Edmond nodded smiling. "Yes, but let's just keep this between ourselves. I have a reputation to keep."
I chuckled. "You got it. So, do I tell Drew to be at any particular base?"
Now, for my traditions. It was about 2:30 in the morning the next day when my alarm on my phone went off. I sat up instantly and grabbed it to turn it off.
"What the..." Peter muttered sleepily stirring slightly and looked at me.
"That was to remind me of my traditions!" I said happily throwing the covers off me. "It starts in half an hour!"
"What!?" Peter propped up slightly. "Your traditions? You mean Rudolph and all that!?"
I nodded. "That's right! I don't know why, but it can't be played back. The DVD doesn't count. With the satellite feed, it comes on, it's being aired at eight in the evening at home. I set it up to watch it. Then it's Merry Christmas Charlie Brown and Frosty!"
Peter's eyebrows rose. "You are kidding."
I was hoping he would, but... "I would have told you ahead of time. You don't have to watch if you don't want to. Go back to sleep, but I'll be watching in there." I pointed to the other room in our bedrooms.
Peter shook his head and threw his legs over the side. "I didn't realize how devoted you were to this tradition." He smiled at me. "I can share it with you?"
I nodded realizing he was doing it for me. "I hoped you would. I haven't missed this a single year since I was six." I smiled a little softer. "I wish you could know how I feel when I do this." I began. "Doing it, watching these little shows...I feel peace and contentment. No matter how rough it could be during the year. I can sit and enjoy this again, for a couple of hours." I looked at Peter. "That's why it's important to me. How it makes me feel."
Peter nodded coming over to me. "Then, by all means, let's do it." He smiled kissing me. "We've joined our lives. I can't not do it because it is important to you." He shrugged. "Maybe I'll feel it, too."
I hugged him. "I love you, Peter." I turned and grabbed my robe. "I'll get things ready."
"What things?" Peter asked grabbing his robe.
"I'll get the fire going, arrange some pillows on the floor," I explained as I went in the other room and dug through our supply of logs to put on the dying embers in the fireplace. "I also have a traditional Christmas Hot Chocolate I'm going to make, some cookies and..." I held up a container of loose popcorn kernels. "Make popcorn!" I pointed to the popcorn maker you used in the fireplace. "I even had the supplies to make these things brought up earlier."
"Wow." Peter shook his head coming over. "This is very involved." He grinned. "Special Hot Chocolate? What's special about it?"
"It has shaved real chocolate, no mix or powder. There is cinnamon, nutmeg, some ground ginger, a little orange peel in little bits and made with real milk and cream...not water. It's pretty rich and creamy." I pointed to the large cast iron pot. There were hooks to hang the popcorn and pot to heat things up.
Peter frowned. "You did this last year?"
"Sure, Boris helped me," I explained and I saw hurt in his eyes. "Aw, Peter..." I went to him bringing him close to me. "I didn't include you because of what was happening and..." I admitted. "It's not the most mature tradition. It's childish, really...and I would have been embarrassed then. I want to share it with you now. We had just gotten engaged...unofficially. We were new as a couple." I waved outside our rooms. "You didn't share all those St. Nicholas traditions with me until now." I made him look at me. "I didn't exclude you then, but I'm including you now...if you want to. I want to share everything with you, Peter."
Peter nodded with a smile. "I'd like that." He looked at the clock. "Then, we need to get started."
I poured the milk in the pot with the cream to add. It was almost like a process. Adding what when to make it well. Like adding the chocolate shavings as soon as the milk got hot enough to begin melting the chocolate, the cream, and the nutmeg and ginger. The cinnamon was added toward the end with the orange peel to give it that special touch. Again, did it matter when I did what? Probably not, but once I learned how Grandma did it, I never veered from how it was done.
Soon the show was starting in a minute and the popcorn was popping. The hot chocolate was almost ready. When the story of Rudolph began with that storm scene to begin the explanation of why Rudolph was important was, the hot chocolate poured and steamed its great fragrance that began my contented feeling. The dozen cookies arranged as Peter took the popcorn and poured the melted butter and added the salt. As Burl Ives began singing I felt it. That comfortable peace and contentment I felt as a child making me comfortable, but with Peter right beside me as I leaned on him. I had never felt that feeling as deeply before. I looked over as he was awake and watching. I said in English. "Merry Christmas, Peter."
His look to me softened as he smiled. "Merry Christmas, Eric." He said kissing me. "I love you."
I nodded. "I know. I love you."
"I know."
The next day I joined Olek, Mom, Helga, Fedir, Kurt, Gretchen and others that went through the many letters to St. Nicholas. Including some letters from Skoal and some other villages that got there. Reading Makarovian wasn't hard, but reading a child's writing took interpretation on my part. I looked up seeing Helga as she was having the same problem. German was her language. The letters were written in pencil and sometimes crayon...even Peter and Olek were having to squint to figure out what was said. Spelling? We had until the 1st or the 7th to read them all and get...whatever was asked for if we could.
The season of Christmas began officially on Christmas Eve. Remember the song The Twelve Days Christmas? December 25th was that first day! Peter was right. It was nearing the end of the month and the daylight was less and less. In the Arctic Circle it simply because of the tilt of the Earth. Here is was the clouds that brought a lot of snow here. Now Makarovia was staying awake! The new underground was allowing Makarovians to come out and be with each other. They were decorating even more down there! The expansion of the tunnels would have to wait until later in January.
I loved Christmas, but you knew that. When Grandma moved to America, she went with the traditions of the West! In Makarovia and many countries in East Europe, celebrating the holiday this way...stretched Christmas for me.
We did share many customs from the Ukraine. On the first day of Christmas, the 25th we had again the Kutya. The table was set with two tablecloths. The first for our ancestors and the second for the living members of the family. The first supper didn't happen until the first star was seen as it was supposed to represent the Star in Bethlehem. Which was a challenge as the weather was not cooperating. No stars could be seen. Under the table and table cloths was hay to remind us Christ was born in a stable and laid in a bed of hay in a manger. There was one place set at the table for Olek's mother, Peter and Olek's father, my mother and father and my grandfather. All of the family members that had died were invited to come and share the meal. There was the Christmas Bread, or kolach made in a ring and placed on a bed of wheat stalks and other grain stalks called the didukah. The bread was shaped in three rings for the Trinity and Eternity. There was a candle in the middle ring; the Kutya next to the kolach. A jar of uzvar, or twelve kinds of stewed fruits is served. Olek being the head of the house, gave everyone a piece of Christmas bread dipped in honey and wished everyone the best in the coming year and at the end we all said. "Khrystos Razhdaietsia." Christ is born. I know, it sounds very...religious. It is, at least the traditions are. However, the traditions in the West had become more secular and I admit, it became more commercial with all the sales before and after the holidays. This was more about the emotion and remembering family. I liked these traditions. To me, it just added more meaning.
Peter had shared my Christmas traditions; I would share his. Now they were both our traditions.
Olek was smiling as we had our meatless meal, which was another part of the tradition. "I wish I could express how having you all here means to me. The Ivanov family is growing. New additions are coming." He smiled at Helga. "Some are family now." He nodded. "This will be a great year for Makarovia and this family. Thank you all for being here."
I shook my head. "No, Olek." I looked at him and Mom. "Thank you both...for accepting me as part of this wonderful family."
Now, things were gearing up for Christmas in full swing! This was a first for Makarovia. It was the church in Styria that have their services for those that could make it. The underground passages before did help, but often it was more difficult than it was worth it. Now, access to the church was easier and there was access directly from the underground to the church. My personal view about religion was...I don't know what's true! I believe we were more than just animals who were self-aware. I couldn't deny Jesus existed. It was history like Caesar. I just didn't know. I was wary of anyone that just "knew" all the answers. As things in Makarovia were...different about many things, there was the part of Makarovia that still very much based on family and things that were...right. They took the stance that there were good things about being human and those things were encouraged. No killing and no stealing. Honesty. The religions helped to guide that. Peter and I attended a program the local church and heard young voices sing about Christmas dressed in robes of festive colors.
Peter leaned closer to me and whispered. "I love this." He said taking my hand and looked at the many faces in the congregation. "It's like...Makarovia isn't hibernating anymore."
I looked back at the church with almost no place to sit down. "It's a new beginning for Makarovia."
On the 27th, we were told the plane from England had arrived, so we were told. It took quite a while before we were told our guests would arrive. Until they completed the underground transport, they had to be brought by snowcat. When we got word they were coming up the elevator, Peter and I waited as they finally rose to us. Two fur covered things with those fur hats on. As soon as it stopped, Drew got off with quick sigh of relief and he kneeled down and kissed the floor. Wayne rolled his eyes at husband's dramatics. Yes, Drew was definitely gay.
I chuckled. "Rough trip?"
"Oh, my God!" Drew said dramatically as he stood up. "Are we at the opposite side of the world!? North Pole!?" He grinned at me and Peter. "We traveled forever...half of it here in Makarovia!!" He said pulling the thick fur off and removed his fur hat.
Peter laughed at our friend. "You should have come to Boston. There are roads open there and not nearly as much snow and ice!"
"I know, I know," Drew grinned coming to Peter and hugged him. "I'm really sorry we didn't."
Wayne shook his head at his husband shedding his own fur and hugged me. "It wasn't that bad, Drew." He said with a chuckle.
Drew looked back at Wayne in surprise. "Were we on the same plane?" He asked. "It was this...big thing," he spread his arms wide, "and...it shook and was so loud..." he said covering his ears.
Wayne rolled his eyes again looking at me. "It was a military freight and transport flight." He said softer and shrugged. "It was less on the frills thing, but it was fine." He thumbed at Drew. "He just doesn't like flying sometimes."
Drew came and hugged me. "We got here!"
"Yes, you did." I chuckled patting him on the back.
"And it's cold out there!" Drew said holding his arms out.
"You didn't know that?" I asked smiling. "I'm sure that was mentioned a few times."
Drew nodded. "Yes, being told and experiencing it are two different things!"
I nodded. "I agree. I wasn't ready either, but I've gotten used to it now."
"Are you tired?" Peter asked smiling at Drew. "Should you rest some first?"
"I don't need to rest." Wayne put his arm around Drew. "There wasn't a lot to do on the way here, but rest." He looked at Drew. "You were stressed, honey. Are you still worked up?"
"I'm fine," Drew admitted. "What can we do? There's a lot of snow out there!" He waved at the outside of the palace.
Peter looked surprised. "Wasn't there a show on TV about what's happening here?"
"I'm busy!" Drew said. "I don't think there has been a show about what's happening. What's happening?"
"We'll show you." Peter waved at the furs. "You might need that, but just for a few moments. We do have to go outside briefly."
Drew frowned. "Back out there."
"For just a minute or two," I said picking his coat up again and handing it to him. I went and got coats for me and Peter.
We took them back out of the palace where we saw that it was a dark grey outside. Walking carefully to the above ground tunnel entrance we took them underground. There was even a place to hang the fur coats now where we could get them back on our way back. Once we were below and reached what had become the city center underground Drew's eyes widened taking his husband's hand as they both did the slow spin at all the new surroundings. The decorations were going up and the lights were twinkling...even Christmas music was being piped in. It did have magic in the air.
"This was covered!? By who!?" Drew asked. "I mean by the news!?" He shook his head. "I know they didn't!"
"It was told this was happening, but..." Peter said.
Drew was touched his pockets quickly and grimaced. "Damn! I don't even have my little camera!"
Peter laughed. "We can come back. You're here a week!"
"Welcome to the new Styria," I said pointing to the people walking below.
Peter grinned taking my hand. "It will just get better!" He said to Drew.
Drew held his finger up and turned to Wayne. "I know we came to see our friends," he waved to Peter and me, "But, I have got to cover this! Now!"
Wayne nodded kissing Drew. "I know." He gently rubbed Drew on the jaw. "You will."
We walked on through the underground and got the coffees we always got.
"Wow," Drew said a little impressed. "For us, Christmas is pretty well over. Everyone now is just waiting for New Years. Many have already taken this stuff down."
"Here, it's just beginning," I said simply. "This is three French hens' day," I said referring the song, The Twelve Days of Christmas.
Drew held his head. "A story is forming." He said to no one. "A Makarovian Christmas: A country reborn."
Wayne chuckled. "You need to work on the title."
It was at lunch Drew was getting excited about what he'd seen.
"What you guys are doing here is absolutely incredible, Olek!"
Olek smiled from the head of the table. "It's not just us doing it. Your government and the United States are doing a lot of the work."
Helga shook her head. "That's true, Dear. Their governments have the equipment and a lot of their personnel are helping, but there are many Makarovians working just as hard."
Olek chuckled with a nod. "I'm just giving Drew the idea that we couldn't do it without him and the others from England and I know that."
Drew nodded smiling. "It's not like we're doing it just out of charity."
"I agree." Olek acknowledged. "However, if you and those from the United States and other countries hadn't stepped in, we would have lost that uranium."
"I will say in five years, no one will be ready for the new Makarovia," I said proudly.
"I have a guest arriving today." Mom said suddenly, smiling at us.
Peter smiled at his mother. "Your mystery man, Mom?"
She nodded with a slight shrug. "He's certainly not a mystery for me, but he will be here this afternoon."
Drew looked up suddenly, his reporter coming out again. "Mystery man?"
Wayne sighed. "Drew." And gave him the look to remind him to not be that reporter all the time.
"I'm curious!" Drew defended.
"And there will be an answer." Mom smiled. "At about three o'clock."
We were told that this mystery man was on his way up. I held Peter back before he could rush off to see this "guy."
"Peter, he's going to get here." I cautioned quietly. "Mom will bring him to us, okay?"
It took a few minutes before Mom came in with a man and I could be smitten with myself! Sure, he was in his late fifties, but a very handsome man. He did have the polished look of a man with some wealth. A tailored suit of dark navy blue and had dark black hair that was greying in the temples and a little on the edges and a slightly olive complexion. Tall, like Olek and Peter and thin. Clearly Italian. Queen Alla had her hand in his arm as she waved to us.
"Mario, these are family and friends." Mom said in English and turned to us. "Mario is learning Makarovian. He speaks five languages, but the one common is English, so...that's what we'll speak." She introduced Peter, me, Olek, Helga, Drew, and Wayne. "This is Mario Basso."
Mario bowed slightly and said. "Ă un piacere incontrare ciascuno di voi." Then he switched to English with a polished, Italian accent. "It is a pleasure to meet each of you."
Olek smiled coming over to the man. "I remember you! You were there in Paris...what was it? Five or six years ago?"
Mario nodded again with a slight bow. "That is correct. That was also the meeting where I met Alla."
I never really got the meaning of the word until now. The man was suave! He seemed to drip as a polished, sophisticated, and charming man. It wasn't an act; it was just him! Of course, he was! Mom wouldn't have her head turned for just anyone less.
I brought Peter closer as I put my hand out. "See?" I waved at Mario. "No horns." I stuck my hand out to the man. "It's nice to meet you, Signor Basso."
He smiled at me shaking my hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lord." He pointed to his head. "No, no horns." Then he smiled more. "I heard you didn't like titles that much, so can I be Mario and you Eric?"
"Absolutely!" I bumped Peter lightly and said to Peter. "I like him!"
Peter glared at me a little. "I never thought he had horns, honey, but he was dating our mother!" He waved at Queen Alla. "My mother!!" He held his hand out smiling at Mario. "It's nice to meet you, Mario."
"Your Highness." Mario bowed. "Do I call you your highness?"
"Peter's fine," Peter said.
What had been a family of three was perhaps going to be six! Yay! Mom and Mario had to be serious for her to invite him here to meet the family.
It was as we were having an afternoon drink together we found out Mom and Mario met at that conference and started dating...sort of that weekend. Dinner, I was told was the first time. They dated off and on the next year or so and became something more after that. Mario descended from vast wealth, yes, but he used his money and made a lot more of it. He was intelligent and didn't appear to have that entitlement issues some do.
"We loved your island off Sicily," Olek said to Mario. "I wouldn't mind going again."
Mario nodded. "I build the place to get away from all...business and other demands. Just let me know and you're welcome to go any time."
Peter grinned. "Have you been there often, Mom?"
She smiled and nodded. "A few times."
"So, your comment when we took Olek about the bathing suit not being necessary...you knew from experience?"
Mom just smiled more and didn't answer his inquiry.
Olek ended a phone call and was very happy about something and he grabbed me and Peter.
"I just got word..." Olek said happily, "we're going to have a mall!"
I looked at him surprised. "A mall? It's practically a mall down there now!"
He shook his head. "Yes, but really, those are just passages to get from one part of Styria to the other during the snows. No, they want to build a real mall! Things like...chain stores and higher-end shopping and..." he literally bounced, "and that's not all. The city center will be down there! Cold or hot weather, Makarovians can shop, dine or just be down there. Three additional floors below the passages that are there are proposed. All accessed by the passages and the new underground transport when constructed!" He was practically slapping us lightly on the arms when he said that. "Isn't that great?"
Peter grinned. "Yes, Olek." He cocked his head. "We need to consider the financial situation with most here in Makarovia. Will our people be able to afford these stores? Enough to keep them open?"
Olek shook his head. "We're not talking about those really big stores like..." he looked at me, "...what is it? Macy's, Nordstrom's or Bloomingdales or anything like that, but they might want to be here. The economy is growing!" He smiled again. "They are even talking about a hotel down there!"
"Underground," I said.
"Yes!" Olek nodded. "This is expansion! Skoal is bigger than Styria now!" He hugged Peter and then me.
Peter smiled as his brother went to Helga, but I saw Peter's face.
"Peter," I said quietly taking his hand and getting him to look at me.
Peter looked at me realizing he had sort of zone out from his thoughts a second. "I hope Olek knows..." he began and hesitated and shaking his head he looked more directly at me. "The people here may not...be ready for this."
"It's going to happen, Peter."
He nodded. "I know." He moaned. "I'll be honest. The day we both arrived here together, I told you about things changing."
I nodded. "I remember."
Peter touched his own chest. "I wasn't ready for the world out there!" He waved at the outside of the palace. "People here have problems, yes, but mostly they are sweet and...unsophisticated! They are simple people." He shook his head. "They have always worried about staying alive during these months. I told you, criminals didn't do well before, but now they will!" He looked as Olek was telling talking to others now. "They will lose that innocence."
"They will." I nodded.
"Olek has been out of Makarovia so much, I'm afraid he can't see it," Peter said sadly and waved at his mother and Mario. "Mom, too."
"You see it," I said. "I don't think we can stop it."
Peter closed his eyes. "We can't stop it." He sighed agreeing. "We can tell them what will happen...I mean the people and Olek and Mom, but we can't stop it. We'll need bigger police stations and enforcement officers." He looked at me with sad eyes. "We've been safe here, but there is another threat out there. This consortium is still out there and I'm sure isn't giving up."
"They have to see that things won't be easy now," I said. "We've got Great Britain, the United States, Germany, France, and Italy here."
"They may see it won't be easy, but they won't let it go. They will just try another tactic." Peter argued. "You know that."
I hugged him. "They have us to keep an eye out for them and any other threat to Makarovia." I smiled at him. "And don't sell the people of Makarovia short, Babe. These wonderful people stood up for generations against the Ukraine, Nazis, the Soviets, and many others. They will do it again! They might be innocent and simple, but they are not stupid."
I heard him chuckle. "You're right." He let me go enough to kiss me. "They aren't."
Drew took his camera and some others and was recording many images of the underground and decorations. Wayne just watched as his husband worked.
I brought Wayne a coffee I knew he liked as we watched Drew organize some children from four or five to eight or nine and their parents, filming them and the surroundings and asking questions. Drew spoke almost no Makarovian and the children spoke almost no English, but he asked the children about what they hoped Santa would bring them. They looked confused looking at the parents with them who translated. There were shakes of heads and they kept saying, "Ded Moroz!"
Drew knew about Ded Moroz, but looked confused for them. "Who?"
There were several unbelieving faces as they all said the name again to him and pointed to the figure on display with his long blue coat, bearded and holding his satchel of gifts. This figure was different, not the chubby fat man in the red suit known in the West.
A sweet little girl about six looked at her mother. "How can he not know who Old Man Frost is!?"
"I don't know, Sweetie." Her mother replied and smiled.
Peter walked up behind Drew. "My friend here wasn't taught about Ded Moroz." He watched the many shocked little faces, but the amused looks of the parents. "I am telling you; he thinks Christmas was over after the 25th! We know better, don't we?"
There were many nods and agreements from them.
"We need to educate him," Peter said slapping Drew on the back. "Just remember, he doesn't speak much Makarovian, but he'll listen."
Drew was instantly surrounded as they all were speaking to him and told him it was Ded Moroz was the one coming and that led to some excited answers from our smaller citizens of Makarovia. The thing was, Drew loved it! He listened to all of them and we knew this was his way of getting the true nature of the children. They were happy to tell him all about Ded Moroz.
"He is a reporter," I said to Wayne with a shrug. "What can you do?"
Wayne grinned. "And the truth is...he's so damned good at it." He chuckled thanking me for the coffee. "Don't tell him I said so, or he'll never stop."
I grinned. "Your secret's safe with me." I saw Drew interact with the children easily. "You and Drew need a child. He looks like he'd be a great father."
Wayne nodded. "We're talking about it." He smiled. "My nieces and nephews just love him."
It was New Year's Eve! That was like Christmas Eve in the West. Many families stayed home. There were many traditions from Ukraine and Russia again. We gathered together for our meal that night. Now, this was both Ukraine's and Russia's traditions observed in Makarovia. The first was the Olivier salad, not olives, a French chef who lived in Russia in the 1960s named Olivier came up with this. It was Russian and had potato and meat. Tangerines! That was Ukrainian. Yes, there was dressed herring made with vegetables. I liked it. There was the red caviar on these little pieces of white bread. We had the caviar stuffed in eggs to have with the champagne we would have later. Aspic, now that took time to prepare. That was why we only had it on this holiday. It was made of minced meat and jelly and I'm not talking a sweet jellylike Smucker's or Welch's or any other sweet fruit jelly but served with horseradish and mustard. Napoleon cake! An unsweetened pastry with this yogurt I asked Peter about some of these dishes. There were some of the more remote people couldn't have this. He nodded telling me that this was an important holiday and almost everyone out there saved or prepared to have this in almost every house!
Olek stood at the end of the table. "Friends and family." He began holding a glass of the champagne up. "This has been such a tremendous year...not only for Makarovia but for this family as well." He bent kissing Helga gently. "There are some additions to the family..." he touched her gently and looked at me. "Some I hope will be around a long, long time." He said to Mario. "I see a new Makarovia coming to life." He waved his glass at everyone. "That is due to a lot of work by this family and dear friends." He said to Drew and Wayne. "I wish everyone here good wishes and I look forward to this new year. I love all of you."
We all stood with our glasses raised. We all nodded touching our glasses together and drank our toast.
Our meal was consumed as the conversation and good feelings seemed to just blossom if you can comprehend that. Things were good in the beginning, but now...it just got better. Mario was fitting in just fine. His aristocratic Italian accent was charming. Again, it wasn't just for show, it was just him.
Olek sat back from his position at the head of the table with a smile on his face that was very satisfied. "I just have to say..." he took Helga's hand in his as sat next to him. "This has been quite a year!" He shook his head. "The things that we were planning for..." he chuckled, squeezing Helga's hand, "and things we didn't expect to happen." He looked up at Peter and me. "Technically, my brother and Eric came together the year before, but got officially engaged this year. This table is getting crowded!" He said happily. "We have new friends." He looked at Drew and Wayne. Then smiled at Mario.
It was when he said that, Mom took Mario's hand and I noticed...barely, a slight change in Peter's expression. He was happy, but he was feeling something about this. Later. I knew Peter and had some issues with Mario and Mom. I had issues with Olek and Mom, too. I was protective of them both.
"What sort of fireworks to you have here?" Drew asked placing his napkin on the table.
Olek shook his head and waved above his head. "Have you seen our sky right now? It's too overcast for any fireworks." He said simply and shrugged. "We usually see the fireworks from Kiev or Moscow on television if we see any at all."
I chuckled. "It's more like Christmas Eve here now."
Peter nodded. "It is what the Soviets accepted as Christmas Eve and we just kept it going. Most of the families are enjoying their family tonight." He said in light excitement as many children were very excited now. "Ded Moroz comes tonight. We still have Sviaty Vechir, the Holy Night on the sixth."
Wayne nodded. "Because of all the religious connections." He said understanding.
Peter nodded. "The Soviets didn't like any religion. Father Frost was no threat."
Olek grinned and his face took on a more devious look and he raised a finger to point something out. "Don't forget his granddaughter!" He said happily as he raised a bag to the table.
Peter's eyes widened and then he shook his head. "No, not the task bag." He groaned but smiled at his brother.
"His granddaughter?" Drew asked smiling.
"Snihuronka!" Olek stated the simplicity of that as if that explained it all. "The Snow Maiden!"
Mario shook his head. "And what about this..." he waved at Olek's bag, "task bag?"
Olek shrugged and ventured a little hesitantly. "We don't have to, but..." he waved the bag, "in here are tasks and things we need to do. You must do the tasks; or do an embarrassing thing." He chuckled. "When I was away in school we had this version where we had to drink a whole shot of whiskey if you can't do what you asked to...." He waggled the glass of wine. "It is better with stronger alcohol. We can do it with wine," he looked at little guiltily. "I suppose it's sort of childish, but..."
"The punishments for not doing...whatever is not childish!" Wayne stated vehemently. "It's a drinking game."
Olek shrugged to Wayne. "It was when..." he saw everyone's shocked expressions to him. "What?" He said helplessly. "I was young once!"
Queen Alla shook her head laughing lightly. "Well, the repercussions can be an unpleasant consequence. We can all decide what that consequence will be. You might have to sing a song or something embarrassing...like say a national anthem or..." she touched her wine glass and looked at Olek. "Drinking is only one possible consequence."
I literally bounced in the chair. "No! It is all VERY childish! I love the Snow Maiden! Snihuronka's task bag is great! We did it in Asheville!" I looked at their faces were curious. "A quarter of my heritage comes from this part of East Europe and it's a pretty strong one." I chuckled looking at Olek. "Only with no drinking when I was little but embarrassing tasks like act like a monkey, but...I haven't played in years!"
The things to do were funny, especially with so many countries here tonight and so many languages and customs. If you couldn't do what the thing instructed to do. You did something we chose them to do. It was fun! There was the challenge that Mario got that was a letter of the alphabet and he had to name something on the plates on the table that started with that letter. The problem here was, he got a letter in Cyrillic the letter Đ". Mario leaned into Mom and we heard them speak in Italian and heard her tell him what the letter was and what it sounded like.
"This really isn't fair, Olek!" I waved at Mario and Mom who were still talking about it. "Poor Mario! The letters are Cyrillic! How can..."
"Giardiniera!" Mario blurted out quickly and confidently.
Olek's grin grew. "I am not fluent in Italian, but isn't giardiniera a condiment?"
Mario nodded. "Yes." He waved at his plate. "Made of pickled vegetables including carrots, celery, and peppers...it's used in many Italian homes on sandwiches and some dishes to make them spicy." He smiled at me. "I believe they use it in the United States...Chicago? Or so I was told."
I shrugged with a chuckle. "Probably, it's a big country. Italians are everywhere! Especially Chicago."
Olek shook his head. "How is what you have on the plate giardiniera?"
Mario smiled. "You gave me that letter." He said simply. "Alla said what it was or sounded like a ghe and that's what this is." He pointed at his plate. "Pickled carrots! Right?" His eyebrows rose daring anyone to say they weren't.
"But that isn't how giardiniera is spelled!" Olek objected but was smiling.
Alla laughed. "Do you know how giardiniera is spelled in Makarovian?" She shook her head. "It's right..." she thought but couldn't think of the English word and said it in Makarovian, "ŃОноŃиŃнО!"
There was laughter around the table from everyone except Wayne and Drew who were just staring at us, not understanding.
"She said ŃОноŃиŃнО which means phonetically, guys." I translated to them quickly. It was fun. "Olek, there are four or five languages at this table. Ukrainian and Makarovian have the similar alphabet. Italian and English have similar alphabets, but we have English, Italian, Makarovian, German, Ukrainian and Russian here!"
We were all adults and it was great to see the child in each of us come out.
At about 11:3opm we did go to the communal room where a large screen television had been set up, along with champagne was set up. The idea of any fireworks in Makarovia, or rather the lack of them, I was fine with. I hate to say it again, but it was COLD out there! The roof would have been great if we did had fireworks, but with the wind as high up as we were...no...I wasn't disappointed about not seeing it "live" here. It was way below zero in Celsius and Fahrenheit! I did miss the ball dropping in New York and then I realized I wouldn't have to! I was only early evening in the Eastern Time Zone. It was a few hours before midnight. We did the count down for the Eastern European Time Zone and welcomed the new year in.
Saying goodnight to everyone, Peter and I headed up to our rooms. I watched as Peter watched Mom and Mario go down the hall to the room they shared. I sighed knowing this needed to be addressed. "Okay, Peter." I began with Peter as we walked slowly hand in hand. "What's going on in your head?"
My question made him come back to himself a little. "What?" He sounded surprised but knew by looking at me what I asked about. "Nothing."
"Peter," I said his name slowly and pointedly. "We agreed not to do that. What are you thinking? Say something."
Peter gave a shaking nod, knowing he couldn't get by with this. "What do we really know about him?" He waved at where Mom and Mario had gone.
I nodded. "We know he's Mario Basso. He's Italian and rich. We know that Mom likes him...I think she even loves him." I stopped him. "She's known him longer than we've known each other."
Peter nodded in a near whisper as he pointed after them. "He was there just as it was known the uranium was here."
"So?" I asked wondering what he meant. "What..." and I got what he was saying. I could read him easily now. "No," I said quickly and firmly. "No!" I pointed after Mom and Mario. "He's not with the consortium, Peter!" I looked in his grey-green eyes. "You want him to be!"
"No, I don't," Peter whispered as if anyone could hear us if he said it loud. "But we don't know he isn't."
"Peter!" I said the name calling him down a little. "You do!" I took his hand. "You want to find a reason to break them up. Why?"
He was shaking his head at the conflict he was having in his head, but part of his was losing. "It's stupid," Peter said quietly and wouldn't look at me.
I forced his face back to me so he had to look at me. "It's how you feel, Peter. You know what I say to you about feelings."
"But you know he could be." Peter defended in a harsh whisper.
"Why?" I asked. "Because you don't know him?" I sighed sadly, but sort of knew why. "Because he's taking your father's place?" I asked carefully.
Peter's eyes widened. "She said..."
"She said she wasn't replacing your father." I reminded him. I looked down the hall. I was already holding his hand, so I pulled him farther into our rooms. After closing the door, I turned him around. "Could he be with that consortium? Sure. Then again, so could Helga and..." I shrugged with a laugh, "I could be, too."
Peter's eyes widened again. "But you are not!"
I shook my head at him. "How do you know?" I walked away from him deeper in the room. "I show up just as all this was coming together for Makarovia. We become lovers pretty damned quickly and you asked me to marry you pretty quickly...unofficially."
"You aren't with this consortium!" Peter said firmly coming across to me and turned me around, firmly grasping my arms. "You are not!"
I chuckled, putting my hand on his chest. "How can you be so sure?" I asked smiling. "Because you know me?" I closed the distance between us kissing him gently. "But you don't know him." I pointed the problem out to him.
"She could be hurt!" Peter defended weakly in a near whine.
I nodded. "She could." I brought him to the couch and sat him down. "She's your mother." I grinned. "You're protective." I chuckled. "Would it be better if she had you do interviews so you could preapprove?"
Peter growled lightly hearing what I'd said and how. "You're being sarcastic."
"Yes, I am, baby," I admitted as I rubbed him on the chest. "Stating the absurd because it is absurd. Mom's not stupid." I said firmly. "Neither is Olek."
"Olek?" Peter asked.
"He was fooled by that Baldwin bitch." I reminded him. "We were, too."
Peter nodded and sat forward a little as his hand rested on his forehead, pinching his nose. "I told you, it was stupid." He ran his hand through his hair in quiet frustration.
I got closer as I nuzzled the side of his face, tracing the line of his jaw chuckling lightly. "I didn't say it wasn't." He nodded with a grunt. "I also said it's what you feel. Stupid or not, you have these feelings, but it also says volumes about you. You love her." I stated simply. "You really care about her."
Peter chuckled as his arms came around me. "Yes, I do."
I nodded. "That's not stupid. That's being a son." I pulled him in for a deeper kiss. "You continue to be protective, but until Mario does something suspicious, remember Mom's a big girl. Can she be hurt?" I nodded. "Sure, just be there to help her, but cut Mario some slack. I think he's nice." Again, direct translation doesn't always translate accurately, Ukrainian and Makarovian were similar, but sometimes not the same. I used РоСоŃв ŃĐ°ŃŃ for slack.
"РоСоŃв ŃĐ°ŃŃ?" Peter thought out loud and then he nodded. "Oh, ŃĐ˛ĐžĐąĐžĐ´Ń Đ´ŃĐš!" He said in Makarovian. "Got it."
I crawled over him as I chuckled, straddling his lap. "So, I'm not fluent in Makarovian yet."
Peter kissed me deeply. "I understand you perfectly. We communicate very well."
Yes, we did just fine...communicating...that night.
I did wake up as my alarm went off on my phone. Peter stirred next to me with his arm across me as always.
"Another odd tradition?" He asked sleepily from under the covers. He looked at the clock. "It's only six forty-five in the morning!"
I nodded. "And eleven forty-five at night in Asheville!" I pulled the covers down kissing him lightly. "And still last year!"
Peter chuckled. "Oh, I get it." He threw the covers back. "Okay, let's go."
He at least grabbed his robe this time when he got up.
Peter and I shared the chair again. Grandma's face greeted us as she sat before her computer at home. To my surprise, there were people at her house in the background and music played. She was having a party? The drone of voices in the background was muffled a little.
"Hello, Dears!" She greeted happily. "So, how is the new year?"
"The few hours we've been in it has been fine." I tried to see who was back behind her. "You're having a New Year's Eve party?"
Grandma nodded as she looked back and then turned back to us. "It's sort of a combination party." She gave a softer smile knowing something she was going to say would be hard. "I sold the house. I'll be moving soon."
I was surprised and a little disappointed. "Oh, that was quick. You've only been back a few weeks."
"It's a well maintained and attractive house!" She chuckled and shook her head. "You love the house, I know."
I nodded. "I do," I admitted. "There are good memories there. You and Grandpa...Mom..."
She nodded with a soft laugh. "Yes, ...memories." She pointed that out. "No one can take those away from you." She smiled. "Keep those and remember."
"I do and will." I smiled sadly. "It's just Grandpa and you worked hard for that house. I just don't like the idea of losing it."
"You aren't." Grandmother said. "It's still right there." She pointed so she was pointing at my head. "I will be going to a retirement community in Surf Side Beach, Texas. It's a little town South of Houston. Right on the beach."
"Texas," I said smiling, but hating that things were changing.
"It's always warm there." She stated simply. "It will be fine. You have all the pictures of the house, your Grandfather, me, your Mom and the memories." She shrugged slightly. "Change is a part of life."
"Yes, I just hate that it is," I grumbled.
Grandmother laughed, but it wasn't a cruel laugh. It was more of a laugh at the futility of what I complained about. "It's going to happen, honey. Find a way to stop it. You can't. I choose to look forward to change." She smiled softer at me. "I think what you have in your future will be nothing short of spectacular." She held her hands together almost in a prayer of thanksgiving to someone. "I wish I could see it all, but...I will be here for the beginning of it."
"I hope you are." Peter said. "You're welcome here anytime, but I know our weather is hard to take...like it is now."
"I will be there when you two marry and I will come to Boston as often as possible," Grandma promised. "I will die." She said casually.
Hearing her say that hurt again. "But..." I started.
"I don't plan on it any time soon, but it will happen." She said quickly shaking her head. "All I want...is for you two to be happy. Promise me you will do whatever you have to, to keep your connections strong. What I've seen you've started very well. Don't lose focus."
Peter looked at me. "We won't, Grandma."
"You're coming back when?" She asked.
"We're leaving on the 5th," I explained. "Two days before Sviaty Vechir." I sighed. "We can't be too late for classes."
She nodded. "Well, you'll be there a lot later on. Call me before you leave and let me know when you get to Boston." She kissed her finger and touched the monitor. "I love you both." We heard the others in her urging her to come as the countdown was starting.
"We love you," I assured. "Happy New Year, Grandma."
During those days we got to know Mario better. He and Mom were...discrete with their affection. I found that charming and...a little irritating. They obviously cared about each other...it was obvious they were in love! Were Peter and I that discrete? Were Olek and Helga? No! Kiss her damn it! Peter and I came down for the evening meal and coming into the communal room...where the two broke up when we came in, stepping away a little from each other instantly. Embarrassed?
Peter chuckled. "Really, Mom?"
They looked almost embarrassed as they looked at each other. Mario smiled. "We didn't want to shock anyone."
"Affection is never shocking," I said to the man. "It's what we do. I'm glad you have a connection with Mom. We aren't shocked or surprised."
"Alla was concerned for Petro." He realized what he'd said. "Sorry...to Peter."
Peter nodded walking over to them. "I admit it." He said to Mario. "I am very protective. Especially with people I love. I don't want Mom hurt." He grinned and put his hand out. "I will be watching." He grinned at me. "Someone special reminded me, Mom isn't stupid." He looked back at Mario. "She trusts you. She trusted who I brought. How can I do less? Welcome to Makarovia, Signor Basso."
Mom smiled more at Peter as she walked closer to Peter. "Thank you, honey." She said kissing him on the cheek.
Mario grinned coming closer to us. "I think, you should call me Mario." He shook Peter's hand.
Our time was growing short this trip home. We were taking Drew and Wayne back to England on the way. The last three days were nice. Drew was just thrilled that he wasn't taking any military transport back to England. The holiday season in Makarovia...really most of East Europe lasted a good while. The atmosphere became less...frantic. Frantic about getting that something special, be them young or not. In many ways, it made things nicer. There were separate days celebrated for different parts! The religious parts had a day of recognition all its own. And Peter and I would miss those last days of Christmas in Makarovia.
We said good-bye to family and friends, promising to come back. Peter and I sort of had to. We were getting married here. We said our good-byes in the palace. It was cold, gray and sort of dark outside still. We bundled up again and got in the SUV to take us the short distance to the private airport that housed the one plane used by the Makarovian royal family.
Drew pointed to the plane as we got out. "See? They are doing the de-icing thing. That's what I like to see."
Wayne nodded and rolled his eyes. "It makes him feel better." To which Drew gave him a little pinch in Wayne's side.
"Ouch!" Drew jumped. "What was that for?"
"You can be such a drama queen!" Wayne groaned.