I thought about it for a moment. History was the marketing part that our clients loved so much. It was more in the presentation, the stuff they could tell their friends. I looked down, trying to figure out a way to explain it. The rug at my feet would be a good visual aide. It was certainly high enough quality and well made.
“Take this rug,” I instructed, “it is very well made and has a wonderful design.” I dropped to the floor and moved to the corner, lifting it back to look for a label. “A label sewn into the rug with a company logo or family crest helps give it history.” There was no label, so I moved to another corner. “You want the name of the artist, maybe a sewn signature to give it a one-of-a-kind type of feel.” Still no label.
“You will not find a label,” Tamara said before I moved to another corner. I looked closely at the back of the rug. It had a very high knot count. The quality was excellent.
“This must have cost a lot,” I mentioned in passing as I rose to continue the instruction. Yana chuckled, her face flushing.
“Mother made it,” Tamara said as if I should have known. My eyes widened as I dropped back down to my knees and reexamined the craftsmanship.
“You made this?” I asked Yana.
“Yes,” Yana replied. She was beaming with pride.
“She and Meemaw each make a few a year,” Viktoria added, “They sell them to the families here.” Victoria looked to Yana, “she sold the last one for 95, 000 drams.” Yana was still blushing, proud of her accomplishment. I did some quick math in my head, maybe 200 dollars.
“200 U. S. dollars?” I asked. Viktoria thought for a moment. Armen, whose math was better than mine, answered.
“About that, maybe a bit more,” Armen said. He seemed proud of his mother and grandmother.
“Who taught you?” I asked Yana, my smile growing.
“Meemaw and her mother taught her,” Yana replied.
“Mom is teaching me,” Tamara added. She rose handing Melina off to her Armen. She walked over to the wall and began retracting the large accordion divider I thought was just decoration. An old loom in excellent condition was exposed with another rug about a third of the way done. I rose from the floor in awe.
“That is history!” I said to Garik, “add a few touches and that’s what we look for.”
“American’s would want my rugs?” Yana asked.
“With the right documentation, they will pay thousands,” I replied, “they want a piece of your story.”
“I am nobody,” Yana said, suddenly out of her depth.
“You are an artist from a long line of artists,” I said almost laughing at what had hidden in plain site, “Your family history, as far as you can trace it back, is what they want. They want to know they are supporting that history and becoming part of it. You just have to list it out for them.”
“You can teach me,” Armen said to Yana. Davit pulled forward in his seat and began nodding his head as well.
“It can be Garik’s first successful contract,” I added. Tamara scooted in behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.
“I love you,” Tamara whispered in my ear as the conversation in the room began moving quickly, excitement infecting everyone. I turned in Tamara’s arms, ignoring the questions being flung at me. I had a lifetime to answer them.
The world disappeared as I lost myself in Tamara’s lips. We were back on the mountain, a blizzard we no longer cared about was raging around us. The only thing that mattered was the moment and that we held each other. A squeal brought our minds back to reality.
Melina was waving her arms in Armen’ s lap, trying to join the excitement by yelling for attention. She was our new mountain, a storm we couldn’t ignore. I laughed at her antics as I swept her into my arms. Life was good. Life was very good.
++++++++++++++++++++++
Tamara
++++++++++++++++++++++
“Are you sure?” I asked the doctor. My belly was barely showing, and I felt no different than when I carried Melina.
“I know my job, Mrs. Bennett,” the doctor said, almost insulted. I smiled warmly while I tried to let the ramifications settle in my mind. I finished dressing as I thought how this would affect Jonathan. I knew now that I needn’t fear him leaving me anymore. Those fears were borne from the initial interference of his mother… and Kimberly.
I hated the way that Kimberly looked at Jonathan at our wedding. She was so American and way too pretty. He didn’t notice, but I saw it her eyes. I couldn’t blame her, but I didn’t have to like it. She said and did all the right things yet her eyes would linger on the man I held most dear.
The jealousy ended when she embraced me with tears in her eyes as she said goodbye. She said something I didn’t understand, but we both knew why she was leaving the reception early. I also knew I would never see her again. She left as a friend, saying her goodbyes to me and not to Jonathan. She loved him enough to disappear. I could never leave him, so she was stronger than me… or never loved him like I did.
Jonathan’s Armenian was growing stronger. I no longer needed to see his body language to understand him. I loved how his accent butchered the language. Every time he told me he loves me, my ears would do a little dance, and the little girl in me jumped up and down.
“You might have to revive my husband when I tell him,” I informed the doctor. The doctor rose from his chair and smiled at me.
“A blessing in any form, is still a blessing,” the doctor said as he put his clipboard off to the side. I wondered if that was true. I rubbed my growing belly and knew my love would be no different. The idea of it was warming in my mind. As the revelation finally took hold, I laughed. The doctor seemed pleased and chuckled himself.
I found Jonathan entertaining Melina in the waiting room. Ever since she started walking, Melina needed constant supervision. She had the Armenian tenacity mixed with American unbridled curiosity. Jonathan was busy building some kind structure with wooden blocks, and Melina was having a ball knocking it down. He was having as much fun as she was. It was some game they invented and only they knew the rules. How high could he make it before she pushed it over? I loved how he could make her laugh.
“Having fun?” I said, announcing my presence. Jonathan turned with a smile as Melina, once again, destroyed the structure he had been building. He rose quickly, sweeping Melina up in his arms.
“Mommy’s done,” He told Melina in his lovely Armenian. “And how is she doctor?” he asked. The doctor moved out from behind and winked at me.
“Very healthy,” the doctor replied as he moved toward his office, “it is a good thing for a woman in her condition.” He left swiftly, leaving me to break the news. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.
“And how is Melina’s brother or sister?” Jonathan asked. I tried to figure out how to tell him without freaking him out. He looked at me funny as I stalled for the right words. I knew he was reading my body language and already knew something was wrong. “Tamara?” He queried again, with a little fear in his voice.
“It may be both,” I said, sucking in my breath.
“What?”
“Boy and girl or two of either,” I said, watching his eyes travel through a million emotions, “the doctor only knows there are two.”
“Twins?” Jonathan gasped, his eyes looking stunned. I moved forward to soften the blow and a smile formed on his lips, “Twins,” he repeated, more to himself. He slid Melina to his left arm and pulled me in with his right. “Twins,” he repeated dreamily as his lips found mine. I leaned into him and felt Melina kiss my cheek thinking it was a new game.
“They will drive us insane,” Jonathan said humorously, “my mother is going to flip.” His eyes found mine in that loving way he had. “We survived a plane crash; we can survive twins,” he said, pulling the three of us tightly together.
A warmth spread over me. Memories of the first time Jonathan took me, warming the blizzard away and my fears with it. He looked at me with those same loving eyes. We could weather any storm, even twins.
“The mountain, my love,” I said softly, “was the easy part.”