Author Topic: All That Heaven Will Allow  (Read 48 times)

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Offline Maggie

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All That Heaven Will Allow
« on: March 26, 2016, 06:32:42 pm »
All That Heaven Will Allow



Theme: All That Heaven Will Allow - Bruce Springsteen


A/N: I sincerely hope I've done Vitaly justice and would like to thank the lovely Wolfy for letting me borrow him. This is a crappy start and I apologize but this was prompted by one of those "what if's". What if Vitaly had told Yuri no when it came to the Africa deal? Just my take on things. ;)


The ticking of the oversized chrome diner clock was driving her insane. They had opened at eight on the dot and she had been given busy work until she’d been called back to prep some of the cabbage and other root vegetables for the borsht that was always served. The anticipated regular orders for take out were supposedly going to be quite hectic today, especially since it was Friday. Red or white anyway you served it, it was was still borscht. Not one soul had set foot over the threshold all morning and by eleven she was standing behind the counter watching the locals hurry past as a downpour of spring rain fell down and pattered against the front window. Anatoly’s new ‘policy’ of no music in the back was driving her insane and the music that was played upfront was just as bad, if not worse. Old instrumental folk tunes that did nothing for her these days.  The day had dawned dull and grey and the cityscape seemed even more harsh and unwelcoming than usual. She heard a clatter and a thud from somewhere in the kitchen, it was at this precise moment that Anatoly bustled in shrugging off his coat before settling into one of the tables before looking at her, he looked almost surprised that she was there. Kalyna was far from offended, she always had been a quiet person and the weather wasn’t helping her mood much. Neither did the fact that her mother, who was still in the throws of a break down due to Kalyna’s father’s passing, kept her up half the night turning the tiny apartment they shared upside down searching for something she was sure she had lost. She hated to admit that she was starting to see a pattern and that maybe her mother wasn’t going to come back from her trip over the deep end.

“Have you not started the knysh, Kalyna? Time is money my dear and with the standing we are making it now are we?”

As much as she respected and adored Anatoly Orlov, he was like a second father to her; she still fought back the urge to say something. The words “make your own damn knishes came to mind but she didn’t dare say them. The Orlovs were good to her as well as her bat crap crazy mother. She’d grown up with the boys, Yuri; the eldest who seemed to be delving into a world she wanted nothing to do with, and the younger, Vitaly. She had always preferred Vitaly for some reason, he was softer, kinder and only a year older than she was. They had formed a kinship back in the old neighborhood back in Odessa and it had stuck. All through the emigration of their respective families, the elementary years when they were both enrolled in ESL classes ( and both made fun of their accents ), the slightly less traumatic middle school years and Hebrew school and then into the big bad world of high school. She was ultimately pushed outside of her comfort zone by her mother and made to try out for the cheer leading squad, Vit had been her biggest supporter even after one of the girls that was lusting after him back then dropped her during one of the home games. He never once told her that her dreams of being a ballet dancer were stupid or to get her head out of the clouds. He was the last person to see her off to the airport and the first to welcome her back and when she had totally lost herself after her father died he told her to do what she needed to do. Yet he still welcomed her back only a year ago as if no time had passed, had gotten her the job at the Crimean and was above all, still the best friend she could ever have.

Speaking of Vitaly where in the world is he?
She thought to herself as she ducked back into the kitchen and began prepping the dough ultimately taking out her overflowing frustrations on it when she heard the back door thud open and then slam shut once more. Familiar footsteps and the jangle of keys were heard as he stowed his things in the tiny locker around the corner from the even smaller break room off the left of the kitchen.

“Why’s it so quiet back here?”

“New policy, no music in the back it seems.”

She answered as she dusted the stainless steel table once more and rolled out the dough before wiping her hands on her apron and turning to give him a small smile as was part of their usual welcome. Perhaps they brought it on themselves, especially after the last time Irina has walked in on them in a bit of a compromising position in the dry goods pantry. The radio had been utilized on a slow day to drown out noises. Kalyna's stomach had plummeted and she had wanted to just dig a hole and curl up and never come out, Vit, to his credit and his nature had laughed it off. His parents were less than pleased but never once said a word to them about it.

“What? **** that, if I have to listen to Coyita one more time from the front I’m going to go **** insane. Just like that stupid sign they put up on the door."

Vit grumbled as he slipped on the usual apron over his regular ensemble of a white t-shirt and linen pants. Even though they were a small local business the Orlov’s still upheld a strict code of dress as well as conduct. Sensible attire at all times no matter if you were working front of back of house.

“Sign? What sign?”
Kalyna’s interest was peeked, maybe that was the noise she’d heard before Anatoly came in.

“Go have a look then, it’s right up on the door where they know I’ll see it coming in.”

She studied him for a moment, he was all nervous energy it seemed. Trying to shake the idea that his family had always thought of him as ‘ the screw up.’ always comparing him and pitting him against Yuri. When would they see that their sons were two completely different people? If she were made to choose between the two Orlovs she would always choose Vitaly. Yuri’s greed for money, power, and status had long ago turned her from him. She now kept things civil and only spoke to him in passing. She wandered out the door and slowly closed it finally spotting the huge lettering.

“Beware of dog.”

Anger boiled up inside of her and she glowered at the sign. Shoving the door open once more scowled as she tried to finish up cutting out rounds of dough and began mashing potatoes for the filling.

“What the hell are they trying to prove with that?”
She asked herself more so than him but he turned from his spot at the stove where he was keeping an eye on the slowly boiling stock pots.

“I think it’s their way of reminding me of the dog in me. The dog that wants to **** everything that moves, wants to fight and kill weaker dogs..”

Irina, still in her good clothes from the mass she had just attended popped in and gave us a once over before her heavily accented voice all but filled the room.

“Ah, I see you’ve gotten a head start. Anatoly and I are headed to Malkovich’s we’ll be back in an hour.”

The two younger adults looked at the older woman and merely nodded before watching her duck back out and hearing Anatoly’s voice boom form the front.

“No American pop music! Only instrumental. Putting closed sign in window until we get back, take lunch break.”

Kalyna offered a mock salute before going back to dust her hands once more while filling and crimping the dough over onto itself. A wicked little thought entered her mind and a sly smile crept up the corners of her mouth. She ambled over to the ancient radio that was situated on the  dry good shelf and tuned it to a local station as a Springsteen song came on.

“Since when do you go breakin’ rules, Kal?”

He asked as she side stepped to the beat and took his hand.

“Since I got it in my head to prove a point to you. Dogs do not dance, моя любов. Men do though and you are most certainly a man.”

She whispered in his ear before planting a kiss on his lips.

“I’m just the family **** up, Kal…”

Gently they swayed to the beat and she shook her head. How could he still think so little of himself after all this time? She blamed his family for treating in such a way, she tried ever so hard to get through to him that he truly was a treasure but somehow he had managed to build a wall around himself. That particular mindset was cemented hard and firm but if she kept trying to chip away at the wall she could somehow get through to him.

“No, you aren’t. You never were, you are a man that possesses two very rare things, Vitaly. A heart of gold, a conscious that can’t be corrupted, and a mind to change the world. I think they’re blind to the gifts you possess.”

She met his deep blue gaze as she brought her hands up to caress his face leaving a smudge of flour as she did so.

“I don’t care what they call you, you are the greatest man I know, Vit and you always will be. Now, lead the way, sir. You dance divinely.”

She said as she gave him a sunny grin, she could see that she had lifted his spirits considerably and that lifted her own mood considerably, just knowing she had brightened his day made her heart skip a beat.  Her pulse picked up when he managed to give her a twirl before dipping her low and kissing her deeply. That was another thing his older brother would know nothing of, love. Vitaly was a well of deep emotion, he was more attuned to the feelings of others as well as his own and he was unafraid to show affection. Yuri would never know what it felt like to genuinely love someone.

“Do you ever think of just taking off and starting over?”
He asked as the song came to an end and they stilled breaking apart. He collapsing into two old counter stools that were now designated for breaks and her going back to double checking her crimped edges for the baked goods.

“Like just packing up and running off into the night? I don’t know, Vit. I tried that once, remember? Didn’t end too well for me.”
Kalyna said as she set each knish onto a baking sheet and went about brushing each with an egg wash. Every move she made he watched with complete fascination, now he knew why his mother always left the turnovers, knishes, and pirogies in Kal’s hands. Each one was uniform, stuffed and crimped just so. A pang went to his heart when she mentioned her ill fated trek to the West Coast. That year she was gone was the longest and saddest of his entire life but he never could let her know it affected him. Although he did have a sneaking suspicion that she already knew because when he met her back at the airport that night she came back he saw the same lost look in her eyes that faded as soon as she spotted him at the gate.

“I’m not talking about going our separate ways, what if we did it together, Kal?”

Kalyna almost dropped the pastry brush as she turned to look Vit in the eye. She couldn’t have possibly heard him right.

“What about your parents and the business? What about my mother? Vit…I don’t know.”
She was genuinely worried about leaving Little Odessa again, the last time she struck out and ended up coming home with her tail tucked between her legs. Having to accept defeat had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, it was came in second in the grand scheme of things, leaving Vitaly behind the first go around had nearly killed her.

“My parents’ll be fine. Besides, they’ve got the prodigal son at their beck and call they don’t need me…”

He went quiet for a moment, she could tell he was thinking; she could practically hear the wheels turning away in his mind and she couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“We’ll take your mother with us. She might not know who the hell anyone is but hey, she’ll be safe.”

She couldn’t believe that he was even willing to start over with her of all people but let alone bring her mother with them. The man had a heart of gold, she had seen it so many times but especially since her mother’s break down. He had been there with Kalyna through her mother’s catatonic state, the night terrors, and now the ‘acute onset’ of neurological decline and was more help to both of them than he would or could ever know.

“Where in the world would we go?”

Vitaly flashed her a grin that he only ever used when he had already come up with a solution to rival all solutions.

“батьківщина.”

Home. Surely he couldn’t mean Odessa. A familiar pull of homesickness for the place where they had been born washed over her. She could still smell the market air and hear the street sounds, the familiar cadence of the Mother tongue that they still spoke. Here, in Brighton Beach the Ukrainians were intermingled with first  and second generations of Russians and Poles. This land that they had grown up in had called home and pledged allegiance to during their formative years still would never truly feel like it was their home.  Tears threatened to well up as she threw her arms around his neck and nodded.

“Then I’d have to say yes then now wouldn’t I?”

A sickening thought entered her mind, the thought had a name and a face and it came in the form of the elder Orlov brother.

“What about your brother?”

“What about him? It’s not like he can stop us.”

“What if he asks you for help again? You already turned him down for that trip to Africa and look how he well he took it…”

Kalyna remembered how she found Vitaly all but slumped over in the stairwell of her apartment building after her mother had refused to let him in, ultimately not recognizing his beaten and bloody face. Little did he know Kal had a plan of swift vengeance and she was merely biding her time.

“He’s always saying how smart he is and how he could outsell any other gun runner known to man he’ll figure something out.”

She studied him for a moment before making her way to his side and pulling him into a hug. Gently playing with his dark brown locks and she felt a small smile. She planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’ll have my bags packed tonight if you that’s what you want.”
She said as he looked up at her with wide blue eyes, a smile gracing his face.

“We leave early tomorrow morning for Odessa then.”

Today they would tie up loose ends, finish what needed to be done the diner and head home to their respective homes and pack their bags. Ultimately bidding the Land of Opportunity goodbye and head back to their homeland.

They were starting over back in the land where they each began. Somehow it couldn’t feel more right.  Together they would truly be home, together.

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