Part 4

“Well, I’m sure they have something that’s not inclusive. I owe your daughter that much.”

“Possibly more,” the mother smiled and turned to the daughter and spoke Russian. The daughter answered in Russian and smiled at him.

“Okay. We will have the Courvoisier.”

“Yes. Tres Courvoisier, por favor,” Adrian exhaled. Emilio’s eyes sparkled and lips smiled. “My name is Adrian – Dr. Turner,” he extended his hand.

“Anna Pavlov,” the mother shook his hand. “And this is my daughter Tamara.”

Their hands met, and so did their eyes, and Adrian held his eyes firm and her hand long, but once again he started to suffocate and go blind from the blood pounding in his head.

“So, a doctor?”

“A dentist.”

“Ah,” mother’s eyes dimmed a little and were lost in thought for a moment. Adrian caught Tamara’s attention.

“Tamara,” Adrian turned to the girl. “I’m sorry – do you speak English?”

Tamara’s shoulders swayed back, blue eyes sparkled, and lips parted in a broad smile of pearly teeth.

“We are from Minnesota,” Tamara covered her laugh and put her elbows on the bar laughing still. Adrian chuckled and looked at the mother. The mother smiled and tapped Tamara’s shoulder. Emilio pushed forward three brandy glasses, and his eyes met with Tamara’s as she still laughed.

“Gracias,” said Tamara.

“Bitte schön,” replied Emilio, ‘service from the heart,’ and Tamara’s eyes met with Emilio’s, and Emilio winked at her, and after an embarrassed glance, Tamara continued to laugh. Emilio paced away and returned with the bill and winked at Adrian. Adrian signed without a tip.

“My practice is in Wisconsin – close to the Minnesota border, though,” Adrian unwittingly mixed professional stoicism and naïve eagerness.

“We are neighbours then,” the mother exposed his implication.

In embarrassment, Adrian looked to the brandy glasses to save him. He raised his.

“Tamara, thank you for saving my life today,” they clanked their glasses and sipped the brandy. “I would also like to repay you somehow.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” said Anna. “What do you think, Tamara? How about Dr. Turner takes you out to dinner?”

“That sounds nice,” Tamara smiled.

“Wonderful,” mother drained her glass. “Well, I’m off to bed, and I’ll leave you two to arrange.”

***

Tamara sat with a satisfied smile fingering the rim of her glass. Her mind saw all light breaking down into soft rainbows, and the colours in those rainbows burst out, and her body was soft and dry and warm, and her mind sat suspended in a gentle current.

“Would you mind if I took Anna’s stool and sat next to you?” asked Adrian.

“Please.”

“So, are you an immigrant?”

Her big smile returned. “No. We just speak Russian at home. So – a dentist?”

“Yes.”

“I always meant to ask: is there such a thing as a mediocre dentist, or is it more like buying laundry detergent – you know, you need it, but it doesn’t matter which because you can’t really screw up soap?”

He burst a chuckle. “Well, a dentist can make a mistake, but nobody dies in the dentist’s chair. So, off-the-record, I’ll say ‘No, there are no mediocre dentists; and dentistry and laundry soap are alike.’ When we screw up, we just send people to specialists.”

They laughed.

Emilio was gone. Adrian waved at the new bartender. “Should we switch to drinks you actually like?”

“Vodka tonic,” she smiled.

“A Manhattan.”

The bartender nodded and paced off.

“What about you – what do you do?”

“I’m managing social programs in a children’s community centre.”

Adrian looked at Tamara. “I think that suits you very much. You have caring eyes. There is a kindness about you. I can imagine you working with children.”

Suddenly, two glowing tears burst from her eyes with such forward force they missed her face and dropped straight to the ground. She exhaled a laugh.

“Oh my! I’m sorry. Thank you for that. I’m sorry.” She laughed while dabbing her eyes with a napkin. “Tamara, you silly.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. People don’t see me that way. Most see me as a question mark or a piece of meat. Question marks scare people. Plus, I saved your life. So, it’s all scrambled today… emotional-wise.”

“A hard day.”

“I’m fragile like an egg right now,” she burst with a giggle. “I haven’t met new people in a long time, and I’m giddy to blare things at you like it’s a psychiatrist appointment.”