Sitting in a restaurant Gleb, Ruslan, and Vlad were discussing an idea.

"Guys," Vlad said doubtfully. "We've already passed Saint Valentines Day. Why should we celebrate this Russian holiday? We are not in Moscow."

"I think we should keep our traditions even here," replied Gleb. "We can rent this hall, invite our ladies, and celebrate. The Irish have their Saint Patrick's Day, haven't they?"

Here it was two against one. Ruslan was next to Gleb, and for the first time during the last few months their interest in Lucy united these men.

"I understand, Vlad," Ruslan answered softly. "You have to think about your family budget. But buddy, you don't have to bring in the equal part as we did."

Vlad blushed. Pragmatic, he hated it when people took his economical efforts as greediness and miserliness. He did not want his friends to think of him as a Grinch, so he did not continue arguing. He took out his wallet and put the money on the table. Ruslan and Gleb had already placed a pile of bills there. Hesitating, Vlad added two more, sighed, and thought, 'Okay, Nina's been asking me to go to a restaurant for a long time. At least she will be glad.'

Gleb took all the money, counted it, and nodded.

"If it's not enough," he said. "I'll add the rest myself. Don't worry, little boys, it will be candy for all."

"I don't understand," Vlad complained with frail irritation. "Why did you come to the U.S.A.? You don't need money vitally. I had no choice; I couldn't find a job. But you have your own business."

"Buddy, my wifey is here," pronounced Gleb seeing Ruslan watching him with a skeptic look. "Imagine if Nina refused to go to the U.S.A. Would you come?"

Vlad sat still.

'I'm an egoist,' he thought, getting ashamed. 'I just informed her. I didn't ask if she wanted to go. She left her mother. How could I not think about her feelings? Oh, Nina, my beloved, forgive me my callousness.'

He was not sorry about the money anymore. It was a chance to cheer his wife up, and Vlad was glad he could do it.

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When a drowsy Lucy went to her living room and saw Ruslan Grafinsky casually sitting on her couch, she thought she was still asleep. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, but yes, it was reality. Despite it being early morning, Ruslan was here. He held a bouquet of flowers, three pink carnations wrapped in beautiful paper.

He was sitting with one leg placed on the other, hugging his knee, and the girl saw a strip of skin between his sock and the edge of his pants.

This sight struck Lucy, arousing in her soul a burning storm of tenderness and fond dreams. The overwhelming desire to touch, and even to kiss this place, to feel his hair and skin, enveloped the girl so powerfully and unexpectedly that she felt confused, and barely brought herself under control.

'I'm just not awake yet,' she thought, shaking her head.

"Today is the 8th of March," Ruslan explained calmly. "In Russia it is a holiday called The International Women's Day, and usually men congratulate all the females they have known despite the age and family status."

"Yes." A smiling housekeeper went into the living room and served Ruslan breakfast and a cup of coffee. "Ruslan greeted me already and gave me a flower pot with irises."

She put his meal on the coffee table, petted his head like a mother would, and left. Then Ruslan got up and held out the carnations to Lucy.

The girl drew close. Watching his reaction, she extended her arm, and seized his hand with the bouquet. Ruslan stood still gazing at her. She saw his face go bloodless and red spots blush on his cheeks, like cranberries on the snow. He gasped, trying to normalize his breathing, but he could not.

Suddenly he pulled Lucy to himself and embraced her with such passion that the girl was amazed. She heard his moan, and, chuckling, she asked, "Do you greet all the females like this?"

He laughed and gently pushed her away.

"It's just a Russian tradition," he said, smiling. "You can ask everybody who knows. In school we greeted even janitors, as in Russia most janitors are women."

He turned and left the house, and for a long time a puzzled Lucy just looked at the flowers, not understanding what to do and how to react to such odd treatment from this mysterious Russian guy.

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That evening all the adult Russians assembled in a small hall decorated with flowers and banners, and a smiling Gleb took the microphone.

"I would like to pronounce," Gleb greeted them, "a toast in honor of the charming ladies in this room and city. To hope that they enjoy this special holiday in their name and would like to congratulate them for their lovely work here, because of the way they keep this town on its toes. A big thanks to all of you here and happy 8th March, ladies! Be happy!"

Uttering cheers, the Russians raised their goblets. Husbands kissed their wives, and Ruslan did the same with Marina.

Marina and Gleb were taking her guitar by turns and all the Russians sang their favorite songs. Then they put on a tape with native melodies.

Sharing their memories, the Russians felt nostalgia fill their souls, and, trying to be blithe in the present, they drank and danced.

Holding hands, Vlad and Nina looked at each other like newlyweds.

Browsing through their memories, they both remembered the day when Vlad moved into Nina's apartment, as it had happened exactly seven years ago.

All Vlad's belongings took up only two suitcases, so the young couple did not even take a taxi, but went by bus.

As they entered they heard music. It sounded very familiar, but the young people did not realize at once that it was the wedding march by Mendelssohn. Nina's mother, Alla, stared at them, and they were astonished, but guessed that the music simply came from the radio.

'It's just a coincidence, Vlad had said to himself. 'Gosh, that stupid march scared me! Why? I do want marry Nina, don't I?'

'It's an omen', thought Nina in awe. 'I chose the right man!'

"It's Vlad Lapin!" she exclaimed, addressing her mother.

Smiling, Vlad put down his suitcases, carefully took out from under his coat a small bouquet of mimosas, and gave it to Alla. "Happy 8th of March!"

"Very nice," the woman replied, taking the flowers. Nina was surprised by her tone, for usually her mother was active and full of optimism, but now Alla looked doubtful.

"Are you okay, mom?" the girl asked with concern.

"I'm fine." Alla snorted and addressed Vlad. "Is that all your stuff?"

"Yes." Lapin flashed his engaging smile.

"Very nice," Alla repeated. Then she walked to the kitchen not adding a word. Nina looked at Vlad and met his gaze.

"Didn't you tell your mother that I'm gonna move here?" he asked with suspicion, and the girl became confused.

"I was talking a lot about you," she murmured. "I thought she understood..."

Vlad only sighed. "Okay, show me our room."
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Not a word was spoken during dinner.

Vlad surveyed the kitchen. It was awfully small, and he thought, 'When we have a child, where can we place a chair for him? No, better, for her. I hope it will be a girl.' Overflowing with love, he glanced at Nina. 'Well, if nothing else we can seat our child on our laps...' He dreamily smiled, finished his meal, and said thanks. He put his dishes in the sink, and took out his wallet.

"Who's doing the shopping here?" he asked.

"I do," Alla replied not looking at him. "The money's in the box on the top of the refrigerator."

Vlad put his bills into the box, kissed Nina and left the kitchen. Then she got up and shyly hugged her mother.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't specify the date of his arrival. Please, forgive me."

"It's okay, honey." Smoothing her hair, Alla sighed.

"I thought you'd be happy if I found a man," Nina mumbled, searching the upset face of her mother.

"I am happy for you," the woman replied sadly. "Sorry for my mood. One day you'll understand me."

But Nina understood already. She could not find appropriate words, and only stroked her mother's shoulders and back.

"I hope he's a good man," Alla sighed again.

***

'Good!' recalling that day and the words of her mother, Nina thought, staring at her husband. 'He's not just good; he's the best!'

Vlad looked at her with a delighted smile, and his love was the finest present that she'd wish to get on the Women's Day. Lost into each other, the Lapins did not even notice the others casting envious glances at them.

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When Vera and Gleb went back to home, he thought it was the best time to talk with his wife, as he saw Vera was a little drunk and alternately sad and happy after the celebration.

"You know, honey," he started carefully. "Yesterday, when I called Moscow, my broker, Nikolay, said that we have received a very interesting offer... about your summer house."

Surprised, Vera stared at her husband. She was the owner of a very old house located not far from Moscow. Hidden deep in the forest, it was built on the tall bank of the river and featured beautiful views from all sides.

"No way." Vera sobered up at once. "I'll never sell that house! It's been in my family for generations."

"I know, sweetheart, but Nikiforov asked about it himself. You know he rules Moscow's crime syndicates now. We have to remember this. However, since we're old friends, he was so kind and he offered forty grand for your house."

"Yes, I remember that bastard," Vera said with irritation. "What is his point? It's not worth that much."

"Yep, but he liked the location. He wants to build a base in this place."

"I won't allow you to turn our family home into a nidus of bandits."

"I can understand your feelings." Sighing, Gleb took the hands of his wife and gently kissed them. "But you know Nikiforov. If you refuse, my business will be ruined, and his boys will burn your house down. You will lose it anyway. I can help you to at least get the money. I think that if I earn sixty percent of the deal it'd be fair? I love you, my heart, and I don't want you killed if you ever go back to Russia."

Sobbing, Vera took a pen. Although for her it was easier to die than sell this house, she knew how cruel Nikiforov's group could be. And she did not want Gleb to have any troubles because of her.

'Gleb loves me.' Squeezed with grief, Vera barely wrote the permission for sale. Tears blurred her vision and dropped onto the paper, but the woman did not notice. Many thoughts were going through her mind. 'He loves me... Oh, Jeff... How could I even think about him? Beside me is a man who loves me so much that he is ready to risk his life helping me... I'm so ungrateful! But the house... Grandpa, Granny, forgive me! I have no choice! I can do nothing...'

Vera finished, signed the letter, and the pen rolled from her weak desperate hands.

Gleb took the paper, picked up the pen, and tenderly hugged his wife.

"Don't worry, honey," he said passionately. "Everything will be fine, I promise."

She did not reply. The image of Jeff appeared in her mind, overshadowing all her other thoughts, and the woman was confused, in vain trying to drive it away. She felt her husband start caressing her. She became horrified, and softly refused. Thinking he understood the reason, Gleb did not persist. He kissed her one more time and left.

Yet even had been buried in her thoughts, Vera heard her husband drive away, and she wondered where he went. A colossal weight of loneliness pressed the woman down, and she surprised herself, realizing that Jeff was the only person in the whole wide world with whom she wanted to talk right now.

Trying not to think about Gleb, Vera got up, almost ran to her car, and drove to the police station. She parked, hesitated, then entered the building.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the orderly officer addressed her.

"Can I see Officer Menard?"

The policeman pointed to the hall.

She shyly went between the desks, feeling nervous under the gazes of the other officers.

Jeff Menard was browsing through some documents when he sensed something and threw his face up. He dropped his papers, seeing Vera walk towards him. He could not believe his eyes, and joy overflowed his heart.

However, when she approached and he saw her livid face, the policeman became concerned. "What happened, Ve... ma'am?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she said with lifeless voice.

"Come here." Hastily getting up, Jeff opened a door to another room, and they entered.

But Vera did not like this place, as the walls had big windows onto the hall. Despite the people outside being unable to hear them, they could see them, and the woman felt uncomfortable.

"Can we talk in some corridor?" she asked holding back tears. Worried, Jeff nodded and they left the room, walked to the hall, and went deep into another wing of the building.

They made their way to the end, and here, unexpectedly for Jeff, Vera threw her arms around his neck. He sensed her sobbing, and painful anxiety struck his heart.

"What happened, Vera? Honey?" Remembering his nightmare, Jeff thought, 'Maybe her husband beat her up? What if she has been raped?'

Vera explained.

Relieved, he patted her back. "There, there. Don't cry, sugar. Maybe you should ask the officials here in the U.S.A. for assistance?"

"Don't be naive, Jeff. How can they help me?" She sighed. "What can they do? Send policemen to guard my house? No, it's over. This house was the last thing that I had in Russia. I've burned the bridge behind me. No way back... No place for living or even to stay... Oh, Jeff..."

She wept again, and he carefully kissed her hair. 'I'm so selfish,' he thought. 'I'm happy that nothing's left that could take her back to Russia. Oh, dear God! Please, make her stay with me forever!'

She raised her face, and Jeff noticed with surprise that she was drunk.

"I'll drive you home," he said softly. Jeff knew that in such a condition the woman might respond to his love, but he did not want to get it that way.
* * * * * * * *
He accompanied her. Vera barely kept her legs as they left the police station, and seeing her car in the parking lot, Jeff wondered how she had managed to drive here. Once seated in the passenger seat, she fell asleep.

When he parked next to her building, Jeff looked long at her strange thin lips, curving like small purple snakes on her enervated and emotionless face, white as a sheet. He did not want to awaken her, but he had to do it.

When he touched her, Vera nervously shuddered all over and gazed at him in bewilderment. Then she shook her head, recalling the immediate past.

"Thank you, Jeff, for your care," mumbled Vera, trying to smile. "Good night."

Sobered up at bit, Vera dared not touched his hand as she wished, so just nodded and got out of the car. He watched her.

He observed as she took out her keys and fussed with the lock in difficulty. Finally it clicked open, but to his surprise she did not enter, just sat straight down on the porch. Hugging her legs, she cried again, burying her face in her knees.

Jeff hurriedly got out of the car. With all of his fondness for her, he helped his beloved up, and they entered the building together.

This was a typical apartment, and once inside, Jeff turned lights on, then moved with Vera to the bedroom. Just outside the room the weeping woman started weakly pushing him away.

"No, Jeff," she murmured between sobs. "We shouldn't... You shouldn't... No..."

He did not realize at once what she meant.

'She misunderstood!' Jeff thought, horrified.

"Vera," he said seriously, looking at her eyes brimming over with tears. "You're wrong about me. I only wanted to help you get into bed. You need sleep."

"Sorry." Vera gently freed herself from his arms and staggered into the living room. There she sat on the couch, propping up her head with her hands.

Jeff went to the bedroom to get a pillow. He found one, then for a few seconds looked around the room, involuntarily thinking about Gleb.

"She didn't want to adulterate this sacred family bed," Jeff whispered sarcastically. "How noble. Damn you!" he screamed, pounding the blanket. He felt just as if giant and unmerciful millstones were grinding his heart. "Damn you to Hell! That bandit sacked all she had, he simply robbed her! And this angel is still faithful to him."

Clutching his head, he sat down and was still, overtaken with depression.

'Why did I get so mad?' Jeff thought, compelling himself to regain control. 'I have no right… I'm nobody… No, it is my duty to protect people from such rascals.'

Holding the pillow and a blanket, he slowly returned to the living room.

She was asleep, curled on the couch like a homeless kitten under makeshift shelter. Remembering her neurotic awaking in the police car, Jeff carefully shoved the pillow under her head and covered her with the blanket.

After turning the overhead lights off, he lit a small lamp in the corner, then sat down in an armchair to watch his sleeping sweetheart. Jeff had already decided to wait for Gleb and talk to him.

His eyes searched the room. It looked so cozy and peaceful. Jeff sighed.

'I'm only a guest here,' he thought, upset.

His radio transmitter hissed to life, and he answered.

"Jeff?" He heard the voice of his superior. "Where are you? I need you here."

"I'm…" Jeff did not know what to say. "I'm busy right now. Is it an emergency?"

After a pause, the chief asked, very calmly, "Are you with that lady?"

"No!" Jeff replied angrily, feeling ashamed. "I'm on my way." He hung up.

Glancing for the last time at Vera, he turned off the light and left the apartment.

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Of course, Gleb went to Lucy. Her bodyguard, Tom, already knew Gleb and allowed his entry without question.

"My sweetheart," Gleb uttered, kneeling in front of a smiling Lucy. "Today is a special day. In Russia..."

"I know," she interrupted him. "Ruslan already greeted me this morning."

Gleb lowered his eyes. He was afraid his hatred would be too clear.

He glanced around and seeing three pink carnations in a vase on her coffee table, he understood. He barely restrained himself.

Without additional words, Gleb gave Lucy a box. The girl opened it and gasped with delight. It was a golden necklace, a chain with her name, hearts, and number eights made with rubies. It was a very expensive, exclusive item, and knowing the price of jewels, Lucy could only shook her head. "You shouldn't have done this. You're crazy."

"I am crazy," he whispered with an erotic voice. "I'm crazy about you, my goddess. If you would like, I'll tear my heart from my chest just to decorate your necklace."

"Oh, Gleb." Lucy kissed him, and putting on the chain, she went to the mirror to look at it.

She did not know that, for Gleb, this jewelry cost only postage. A businessman from India working in Moscow made this necklace by order of Gleb's men, as a protection racket payment.

Suddenly Lucy heard a sound as if something very massive fell. Even the floor shook. She spun around. Her bodyguard, Tom, dashed into the salon and Lucy saw her housekeeper looking from her room.

Gleb was lying on the floor, and got up with a confused smile.

"My love," he addressed Lucy. "I was lost in admiration for you, and stumbled over your table."

"Are you okay?" she asked with worry.

Tom set the coffee table on its legs again. Solid wood, this table was very heavy, and it had crushed the vase with the flowers. The housekeeper cleaned up the mess, and Lucy went with Gleb to her bedroom.

They made love, and soon the tired Lucy dozed off. But before dreams clouded her mind, the picture of the smashed carnations lying helplessly on her carpet arose into her mental view, and the girl cried, feeling sorry about the loss.

'It was not an accident!' flashed in her head. It was such a strange idea that Lucy was as amazed, as she would have been if someone else had spoken. But the girl had already fallen asleep and was unable to work the thought to a logical end.

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