Alynwa's Mind: It's Crazy in There

Illya awoke from a nap on the living room couch to the sounds of Napoleon and Leona Nicole chattering happily on the terrace and the scent of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill.  He continued to lie there for a few minutes more so he could listen to Napoleon attempting to explain the 4^th of July to a three year old.

“Today is America’s birthday, so we celebrate by cooking outside.  Hot dogs are traditional July 4^th food.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re easy to cook on the grill; just like hamburgers.”

The little girl was quiet for a minute and then she asked, “We would be outside in the rain, too?”

Napoleon laughed, “No, we would stay inside, but we would still eat hot dogs.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what Americans eat on the 4^th.  And later on tonight, Papa and I will let you stay up late to watch the fireworks.”

“What are fireworks, Daddy?”

“Fireworks are, ah, well…Fireworks are lights in the sky that are a bunch of pretty colors that make different shapes and a lot of noise.”

“Is it scary?”

“No, it’s exciting.”

Illya came off the couch and walked out onto the terrace.  When Napoleon bought the penthouse next door, part of the renovations had been to remove the wall that separated the two terraces to create one large terrace that wrapped around the entire apartment.  He sat down at the table and held his arms open so that Leona ran to him for a hug.  “I could hear some of your conversation.  We will be able to see the fireworks from right here.  There will be fireworks over the East River.  Is the food ready now?  I am very hungry.”

Napoleon smiled broadly and handed Illya a plate with a burger on it.  There were condiments and side dishes already on the table.  He leaned down to whisper in his daughter’s ear, “Your Papa’s always hungry; never forget that.”

Leona giggled and snuggled closer to her Papa.  He kept one arm around her while using his other hand to eat.  “Papa, did you know it’s our birthday?”

Putting his burger down to wipe his mouth, he answered, “If you mean it is the 4^th of July, yes, I do know.  I am Russian so it is not my country’s birthday, but it is Daddy’s so that is why there are hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill.”

That caused Leona to frown as she thought about what she had been told.  Meanwhile, Napoleon put a plate with a hot dog cut in half lengthwise and then across into manageable pieces for her and then put relish and catsup on it for her.  Illya turned her around so she faced the table.  “Daddy, Papa can’t have birthday cake?”

Illya perked up.  “There is cake?”

“Not birthday cake; we have cupcakes with red, white and blue icing,” Napoleon replied, “and Papa can eat cake if he wants.”

“Good, Daddy!  Can I eat one now?”

“What, Sweetie?”

“May I have a cupcake now, Daddy?”

“After you eat your hot dog and some veggies.  I grilled those, too.  When you’ve finished eating, it will be time for your nap so that you can be awake for the fireworks.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Nine twenty that evening found the two men and their daughter sitting on their terrace overlooking the East River.  Napoleon had put his radio in one of the windows facing the terrace so that they could listen to the patriotic songs that play during the display.  As the fireworks began, Leona watched in awe.  She “oohed and ahhed,” she clapped her hands together in delight, she jumped when a boom was especially loud and finally, she put her hands over her ears as the fireworks reach a crescendo and ended with a cacophony of sound that echoed along the skyscrapers.  When it was over, Napoleon carried her inside followed by the Russian.

“Say goodnight to Papa.  It is way past your bedtime,” Napoleon said as he leaned her toward Illya.

She kissed his cheek and said, “Goodnight, Papa.  Love you.”

“Спокойной ночи дочь. Я тоже тебя люблю. (Goodnight, Daughter.  I love you, too.)”

Illya watched his partner carry their child to her room.  He decided to have a drink before retiring so he went into the kitchen, removed his bottle from the freezer and pulled two glasses from the cupboard.  He put ice in one for Napoleon and went into the living room.  Less than five minutes later, Napoleon came in and settled onto the couch after getting his single malt scotch out of the liquor cabinet.

“I swear she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.  I thought she might be jumpy after all that noise.”

Illya nodded as he took a swallow from his glass.  “An example I intend to follow as soon as I finish my drink.”

“As do I, Tovarisch.  Today was a good day.”

Illya finished his drink, stood and stretched.  “Yes, it was.  Happy Birthday, Amerikanski.”

“Illya, that’s a black cat!”

The Russian looked up from stroking the friendly stray and exclaimed, “Very good, Napoleon! Next, I want you to identify a brown dog.”

Blowing his forelock out of his face, Napoleon huffed, “I was only trying to warn you that crossing paths with a black cat on Friday the Thirteenth is bad luck but, you do what you want. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

Illya picked up the purring kitty and began walking alongside his partner. “I am well aware of the alleged ramifications of interacting with a black cat. You Americans and your superstitions! Groundhogs and their shadows, black cats and bad luck…Oh, look! A ladder leaning against a wall!” Illya put the cat down, pat its head goodbye and then, walked back and forth underneath it several times even as Napoleon gave it a wide berth.

Catching up with his partner, Illya began to chastise the brunet. “Honestly, Napoleon, you are much too worldly to believe any of this oh!” Illya was pitched forward and down when his toe stubbed against a large crack in the sidewalk. He sprawled face first on the cement and then, jumped up quickly and glanced around with a “Who saw that?” look on his face. His eyes lighted on Napoleon and narrowed in challenge.

The American had watched what had transpired with an amusement he was trying very hard to keep off his face. “Ah, are you alright, Tovarisch?” He shoved his hands into his pockets while Illya brushed himself off and tried to tame his rebellious lips that kept threatening to break into an “I told you so” smirk.

Face turning a lovely shade of red, Illya spat out, “I am fine! And I suppose now you are going to tie the fact that I tripped to the fact that I held a black cat on this particular day together into a pretty bow of superstition?”

“Yes, and you may use it to hold together your dignity!” Napoleon could no longer contain himself and began to laugh so hard he had to stop and hold his sides.

As the Russian kept walking, he said over his shoulder, “I owe you one, Napoleon, and I will make sure I pay you back!”

Napoleon strode quickly to come alongside Illya and throwing his arm over the smaller man’s shoulders replied, “Of that I have no doubt, Partner Mine, of that I have noooo doubt.”