Tamara opened the box, and a million expressions crossed her face in a second. She looked up at me with wonder in her eyes. I decided it was best to go formal and dropped to one knee. Milena thought it a game and gave me a garbled laugh.
“Marry me?” I asked as well as I could in Armenian. I would have gladly died for the smile that appeared on Tamara’s face. I knew her answer before she spoke.
“Yes,” Tamara said in heavily accented English. She dropped down to my level, Milena getting more excited, and kissed me like it was our last day on earth. It was the same kiss that I found in the blizzard minus the desperation. This kiss had a future.
Milena started kicking and flailing her arms, thinking we were playing peek-a-boo. Tamara broke the kiss with a laugh, leaned down farther to kiss her daughter and reassure her she wasn’t forgotten. We rose, and I placed the ring on her finger. It was a little loose and would need to be resized. Milena was impressed by the shiny bobble and insisted on playing with Tamara’s finger. It kept Milena busy for a few more moments as we shared another kiss.
I had done it. A wife and a daughter in one day. Tamara wrapped her arm into mine and leaned against my shoulder as we walked. Like me, she wanted to be as close as possible.
We ate a quick dinner in the hotel restaurant. We would have lingered, but Milena was starting to get fussy. I guess all the sightseeing had worn her out and she was done with new stimulation. I could see that Tamara was worried I might change my mind now that I was seeing the crabby side of my baby girl. I just smiled and did my best to keep Milena entertained. The waiter did wonders making sure the food was delivered quickly. I over tipped for his attentions.
Once we were back in the room, Tamara was trying to sooth Melina, who seemed unhappy with everything. I could see that she was over tired and just needed to close her eyes. Tamara was more concerned with my reaction to Melina’s fussiness and was trying desperately to get her to settle down. It was a chain reaction; upset daughter triggering upset mother which, in turn, further upset daughter. I remembered what my mother told me once, about when I was but a babe and the one thing that would quiet me down.
I filled the tub with about two inches of warm water. I took Milena from her reluctant mother, stripped her down, and sat her in the tub. The crying sputtered out as the warm water caressed her legs. She stared at it as I held her upright. She leaned down forcibly and began to splash, not happy, but no longer crying. Curiosity overwhelming her discomfort.
I felt a breath in my ear and magic words mixed with love. I turned and found my future wife’s lips. They were filled with emotion, so much love as she cradled my head in her hands. Milena yelled out and splashed, causing water to find her face. She sputtered in surprise as Tamara quickly grabbed a towel and lovingly dried her face. Milena shook off the towel and went back to the water. Tamara sat down next to me. We spent the next half hour watching Milena tire herself out. When her head started drooping, and the eyelids refused to remain open, we dried her off, dressed her, and laid her in her bed. Daughters were crabby. They made up for it by being so damned cute.
Tamara attacked me on the bed. I surrendered willingly.
++++++++++++++++++++++
We awoke before Melina. I checked her breathing, as I had her mother so many months ago, and found it steady and without stress. I guess we wore her out. I crawled back into bed and just held Tamara. She snuggled into me, and I had a flashback to the hovel, trying to stay warm. This time, I didn’t apologize when I tucked my hand under her breast. Milena only let us enjoy each other for about ten minutes. It was enough though I could have stayed that way for few more hours.
Tamara called her mother as she fed Melina. There was a long discussion with a lot of smiling. I could pick out pieces as she told her mother about the proposal. I wondered if I didn’t plan it enough, maybe making a more romantic gesture. I let the idea fade away. Too much had happened to stall for a better time. Milena needed a father, and I needed the both of them.
“Mother make lunch,” Tamara told me once she hung up. I smiled, nodded, and added a kiss, so she knew it was fine. She added something about outside, and I think park. I guessed it was going to be a picnic. Milena would like that, so it was good for me. I sat down and watched my piggy daughter monopolize my fiancee.
My mother hadn’t tried to call me again in over twenty-four hours. I checked my phone to verify it and wondered if it was time to forgive her. It was her memories I accessed to quiet Milena the night before. I knew I couldn’t be angry with her forever. She had a right to know about the engagement. I did some quick math and knew it was the middle of the night in Chicago. I decided I would call her that evening and straighten everything out.
We spent the morning in the hotel pool. It was too early for the tourists, so we had the whole thing to ourselves. Milena thought it was the greatest thing in the world. She struggled to break loose from my arms and fully enjoy the water on her own. I found that dipping her down to her neck and bouncing her back up made her ecstatically happy. So we traveled around the shallow end, bouncing up and down, splashing, and chasing mommy around. I now understood how children could make people do stupid things. Only Tamara, myself and Milena understood our game. The only reward was Melina’s smile, which was payment enough.
We were well pruned by the time we left the pool. Milena put up a small fuss when we lifted her and her waterlogged diaper out of the pool. Tamara took her in her arms and cooed sweet things that seemed to satisfy her. I had a future olympic swimmer on my hands.
This time, when I entered the Petrosian household, I was greeted warmly by my future brothers-in-law. The two youngest examined Tamara’s ring and kissed her cheek and shook my hand. I feigned blocking a punch and we shared a small laugh. Armen wasn’t present and I was surprised not to see Yana until I saw her emerge smiling from the kitchen, dressed in an apron that was covered in flour. I was shocked when I saw who followed her out.
My mother, in an equally dusted apron, came out of the kitchen. Her hair not in its usually perfect place. Her smile defied the rest of her appearance. “Mom,” I stuttered. She smiled at me then went straight to Tamara.
“I am sorry,” my mother said in Armenian as poor a mine. She repeated it, and Tamara nodded, looking at me in shock. My mother hugged Tamara and began to cry. Then Tamara cried and hugged her back. I could do nothing, my arms full of Melina. Tamara sputtered out her forgiveness that needed little translation and wiped her eyes.
My mother turned to me with tears on her cheeks, “may I hold my granddaughter?” I walked over and placed Milena in her arms. Melina, doing her part, smiled at the attention. My mother was immediately in love. “I am so sorry little one. I’m a stupid woman thinking I know best,” she said to Milena, but I knew it was meant for me. Milena thought she was playing and gave her a toothless laugh. Tamara smiled at me and nodded. I had been instructed to forgive. Tamara had forgiven me, so I had no choice but to comply.
“She likes you,” I said quietly to my mom.
“She does, doesn’t she,” my mother said smiling, “does her daddy like me?”
“I love you, mom, you know that,” I forgave, “I was just angry.”
“You had every right, and I’ll try not give you reason to be angry again,” my mother said, her eyes never moving from Melina’s. My daughter seemed enchanted with my mother. Maybe it was her earrings, large silver disks waving below her lobes.
“She is so beautiful,” my mother said to Tamara. I interpreted as best I could. Tamara smiled again and directed my mother to the couch. They sat down together, ignoring me while they played with Melina. Milena was doing her part to duplicate smiles and grabbing fingers.
“Mother happy now?” Yana asked me quietly. I nodded. “Son happy?”
“Yes,” I answered in Armenian, “very happy.” Yana gave my arm a squeeze and headed back into the kitchen.
“You came here alone?” I asked my mother when I realized it.
“Your father and Ruben are with… Armen,” my mother said as she played with Melina’s feet. I think she was counting toes. I knelt down in front of the three and took Tamara’s ring hand in mine and showed my mother.
“We’re engaged,” I announced carefully. I wasn’t sure what I expected since she took my coming to Armenia pretty hard. She raised her eyes from Milena and smiled at Tamara.
“I am so happy for you two,” she said. I translated it to “she happy.” The smile didn’t need translation. It was honest and held no reservations. My mother had finally surrendered to my reality. Milena made it easier for her. Tamara and my mother hugged again which, I have to say, made me feel good.
Armen, my father, and Ruben entered a moment later. I went to greet my father, but my mother short-circuited the reunion.
“Frank, come see our granddaughter,” my mother called, waving my father over. My dad smiled at me, happy to see his wife smiling again. Milena got more attention as my mother explained everything that unfolded. Tamara got more hugs, and I shook hands with Ruben.
“Armen says he knocked you around a bit,” Ruben chuckled.
“Him and his two brothers,” I said, “it’s your fault we couldn’t understand each other. You’re a lousy teacher.”
“Maybe I had a lousy student,” Ruben hit back. I laughed knowing he could be right. I never did well in Spanish when I was in high school. “She really is a beautiful woman,” Ruben added, indicating Tamara.
“She is that,” I agreed, “lucky for Melina, she got more of Tamara’s genes than mine.”
“She has the Bennett nose,” my mother announced, overhearing my conversation. Unconsciously, I reached up and felt my nose, still a bit sore from the fight. Milena had a little button nose, not a big honker like mine.