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“A shooting star!” Shane yelled, pointing at the sky. “Make a wish!”
Yuna smiled at the constellations above them, tracking the comet as it flew in a beautiful arc. Shane had his eyes closed, mouthing something to himself as he made his wish. Ilya, on the other hand, shot Yuna a confused look.
“It’s a tradition, like wishing on your birthday candles,” she explained. “But it’s extra special because shooting stars are so rare.”
“Ah,” Ilya said, looking back up at the stars. “Is gone.”
“You still saw it,” Shane said, leaning against his side. “It counts. Make a wish.”
For a moment, Ilya closed his eyes as well, taking in a deep breath and, Yuna assumed, made his wish.
“What was your wish?” He asked Shane.
“You’re not supposed to tell. If you do, it won’t come true!” David interrupted. Yuna smiled at her husband, such a stickler for rules.
“Well, in that case,” Ilya said, miming the motion of locking his lips and throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”
In Yuna’s lap, Anya turned her head, settling in again as Yuna ran her thin fingers through her fur. “This is a beautiful night,” she said, smiling up at her boys. “Thank you for having us.”
“Stop,” Ilya said, waving his hand. “You are welcome always.”
“I just know now to always knock,” David added. Instantly, Shane flushed, his cheeks giving him away easily. At the same time, Ilya let out a loud, sharp laugh.
“Is why I keep sending you dishwasher tablets!”
“Why is that everyone’s favorite story? It was a disaster!”
“No,” Ilya said, pulling Shane back towards him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I don’t think it was.”
For all they had sacrificed to get Shane into the NHL, Yuna was starting to really hate the organization. Crowell hadn’t made any bold moves to make Shane and Ilya’s lives harder, but there were subtle things. Little digs - pitting the two against each other any chance he got. For awards, for acknowledgments, for the All-Star Game.
The year after the Fanmail video, neither of them had been invited to take part. The following year, Ilya had been invited and refused. The salt was still heavy in their wounds, and while Yuna didn’t think he would admit it, she suspected that everything that had transpired had caused Ilya to fall a little bit out of love with the sport. All of the years, the blood, sweat, tears, and teeth that Ilya had sacrificed, and Crowell would’ve taken it all away if he could have.
She saw the bitterness in his eyes when the NHL made some new statement about being inclusive and diverse. She saw the exhaustion he sometimes wore when they learned about another ploy to try to put he and Shane at odds.
She saw it, and she said nothing. It wasn’t her place, and the moment he stepped onto the ice, he looked thrilled, right back in his element and ecstatic to be there. The play, he was still engulfed in. The politics, not so much.
All of that to say, she wasn’t surprised when Shane received an invitation to attend that year’s All-Star Game. She wasn’t surprised that he agonized over whether to go, his eagerness for more successes in the game he’d dedicated his life to warring with his anger at the higher-ups for doing this. For punishing he and Ilya for nothing but being in love.
She also wasn’t surprised when Ilya insisted he go. Insisted that refusing would only give Crowell and his goons the power to take away something Shane loved - and he did love beating all of the best players at once. After a great deal of convincing from Ilya, and support from she and David, Shane accepted the invite. To avoid the media circus they would attract by attending together, Ilya decided to stay back in Ottawa with Anya, David, and Yuna.
The three of them (and Anya) were sitting in Shane and Ilya’s living room, watching a silly movie while waiting for the All-Star events to start. Adorably, Ilya was lying on his side, his head on a pillow right by Yuna’s thigh. After a while, she reached out, combing through his curls gently. She was hesitant at first, careful to give him time to shy away.
Instead, he all but purred at her touch, his head tilting up towards her fingers.
And so it became their thing. Every once in a while, Ilya would wordlessly ask for her easy affection, and Yuna would give it, desperate to spoil this man who had changed her son’s life. Desperate to love him the way a mother loves her child. Because he was, now, and she hadn’t needed the marriage license to call him as much.
She still remembered the first time he’d returned the sentiment. “Thanks, mom,” he had said like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t a gift he’d bestowed upon her without seemingly thinking twice about it. He’d dropped it so casually after she brought he and David a glass of lemonade one afternoon when they were hunched over their puzzles.
Thanks, mom. A myriad of emotions had surged through her. She and David had tried for years to have another child. But after countless attempts, countless disappointments, and more than a couple of devastating losses, they’d decided that Shane was all they needed.
Maybe in another universe, they’d had one or two more. Maybe in another universe, her body would not have betrayed her - gifting her a perfect son with no complications only to rob her of the chance at another. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
In this one, though, she’d always had enough because she’d always had Shane.
But maybe, maybe, maybe, she really had been gifted another. Ilya may have arrived on their doorstep - or, Shane’s deck - about thirty years later, but he was still there, and she could still love him.
There had been grief for the life they could’ve had, and pure, overflowing love for the man who shared his heart so wholly. But there had been guilt, too.
Ilya’s mother had missed out on the chance for all of this. Irina would never know how Ilya’s curls smelled now that he was a grown man who could afford the nicest hair care products. It smelled like the sea and sandalwood, with a smoky undertone, as if he’d been sitting my a bonfire recently. Irina would never know how his laugh sounded now that he’d become an adult, cigarettes and years of howling in the rink causing just a bit of gravel in the loud, unashamed laughter. She would never know how his eyes sparkled when he looked at Shane, the happiness in his expression everything a mother could hope for her children.
Oh god, how she mourned for all of the things Irina hadn’t been able to experience. To feel as though that was your only escape. Yuna may not have fully understood, but she would never judge. Never. She knew the things she would do for Shane and, now, Ilya. The way Ilya talked about his mother left her to believe she loved him as much as she loved Shane. Completely and selflessly. She couldn’t imagine the kind of darkness you’d have to be living in to lose sight of all of the good to come.
So, Yuna would love him. She would never replace Irina - never in a million years, but a part of her hoped that she could fill in a little bit of the Irina-shaped hole Ilya must’ve been living with, the same way Ilya had filled in the gaps left behind by all those negative tests that still haunted her some days.
“I can tell you my wish?” Ilya asked her one night. Shane and David were whacking a puck back and forth on Shane’s artificial ice rink.
“Hm?” She asked, barely tearing her eyes from her husband. God, his hubris was going to land him a broken hip one of these days. “Your birthday wish?”
“No, months and months ago. The star.”
“Oh,” Yuna said, smiling wide. She remembered that night, Ilya’s precious, confused expression. David’s insistence that he not share his wish. Shane’s determined look, his nose all scrunched up as if enough concentration would get the stars to listen. “Well, you can always tell me anything, but a lot of people believe it jinxes it. Makes it so the wish doesn’t come true.”
“Is not a wish that would ever come true,” Ilya said, his expression a little bit sad. “Just a nice thought.”
“Then of course. What was it?”
“I wished for you to meet my mother.” Yuna’s breath caught in her throat. “For her to see all of this. All of the love I have found. Is all because of Shane.” His face took on a dreamy look. “Because Shane loves me, I met you, and David. And I joined the Centaurs. And I’ve made so many friends through the camps, and helped so many people in her name. Is all because of Shane.” He smiled at her, small and a little bit sad, but no less sincere. “And Shane is because of you. I think if she could see how good my life was, she would say thank you. For giving me Shane. And for loving me.”
Tears were stinging Yuna’s eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. In an instant, she hauled Ilya’s humongous frame down into a tight hug. Her arms may have barely fit around him, but she certainly did her best.
“I do,” she said, murmuring it into his chest like a promise, a prayer. “I do love you. You are my son, just like Shane. And if I could meet her, I would thank her, too. For bringing you into the world, and for giving me another beautiful boy to love.” She stepped back, cupping his cheek gently. “She is with you, Ilya. She has watched you turn into an amazing, brave, selfless, caring man over these years. She knows. I promise, as a mother, she knows.”
Leaning into her hand, Ilya smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. His hand came up to rest against his chest.
“Yes. I believe it. Safe in my heart.”
“Is everything okay?” Came Shane’s voice. The game had paused, Shane must’ve caught their emotional moment.
“Everything is perfect, moya lyubov,” Ilya said, placing a hand over Yuna’s. “Your mother was just telling me I am everything she wanted you to be.”
Yuna snickered, patting Ilya’s cheek gently as Shane rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”
“Such bad manners,” Ilya clucked his tongue, sharing a dramatic sigh with Yuna, who beamed widely up at him. “Would you like to help with dinner? I am making Shane’s favorite salad.”
“I’d love to,” she said.
Later that night, back at their own home, Yuna joined her husband in bed after applying all of her fancy lotions.
“Was Ilya alright?” David asked, brushing her long hair back behind one of her shoulders. “It seemed pretty intense.”
“Oh, David,” she said on a sigh. “Yes, he’s alright, but he was breaking my heart.”
“What happened?”
“Do you remember last August, when we were at their house and saw that shooting star?” David hummed in affirmation. “He told me his wish, because it was something that would never happen.”
All of the tears she’d fought when hugging Ilya came back in a rush, hitting her like a freight train. They escaped from her in a quick, unexpected sob, as if the pain and sadness were being pulled right out of her stomach. Surprised, David gasped, wrapping her up in a hug and rocking her from side-to-side.
“Baby,” he cooed. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“God, David,” she cried. “He said - he - his wish was that his mom could have met me. That she would’ve thanked me for giving him Shane. That she’d be grateful that he’s so happy now, and that it’s all because of our boy.” Curling herself into a ball, she let herself succumb to her husband’s comfort. “He just breaks my heart, thinking of everything he went through. And so does Irina. Imagining how hopeless she must have felt, thinking of all the moments we’ll get with him that she won’t. And to know that he dealt with all of that, and that he’s still so good. I hate that he’s suffered so much.”
David only held her for long minutes, the room silent but for her quieting sniffles.
“I wish I could meet her, too. I do. To tell her that we love him like breathing. To tell her that he is so, so loved. I just hope she knows.”
“She does,” David whispered, stroking her hair softly, echoing Yuna’s earlier sentiment to Ilya. “She knows. And Ilya is right. She would be so grateful to you for loving him.”
“Yes,” Yuna said, sniffling against David’s chest. “Yes. You’re right. We’re making her proud, right? I mean - wherever she is, she’d be happy, knowing he has us.”
“One hundred percent,” David said, kissing the top of her head. After a few more long moments, Yuna settled, her tears subsiding into soft hiccups. “Any mother would be so grateful to know their son is in your hands,” David said, helping her shuffle under the covers. “I know I am. I love you, Shane loves you, Ilya loves you, and - god willing - if Irina is watching on, I know she would love you, too.”
Nodding against his chest, Yuna hugged him tightly, exhaustion weighing her down.
“Let’s get some sleep,” David suggested. “We can talk more in the morning.”
All Yuna could manage was another tired nod, wriggling closer to her husband, letting sleep take her.
When she woke up, it was to a soft breeze caressing her cheeks. Not entirely abnormal - they often left their windows cracked overnight. The birds, though, that was new. Blinking her eyes open, she looked around. She was in… a park?
Okay, so - still dreaming.
The sun felt lovely on her skin, though, and she swore she could smell the flowers surrounding the bench she was sitting on - why was she sitting on a bench? Those pesky wooden benches hurt her hips if she sat on them for too long. She should stand up. Maybe walk around the park.
The place was gorgeous. The sky was blue, with the kind of clouds you’d see in a painting. The sun was pleasant, with just enough of a breeze to stay cool. To her right, there was a pond, sparkling under the golden rays.
Ducks, she thought to herself, smiling at the green heads bobbing in the water. Mallard Ducks, David would say. Yuna smiled at the sight, reminiscing on a time years and years prior, standing near a very similar pond with Shane. He’d learned that bread was bad for ducks, and drug Yuna on a wild goose chase for good duck food. We have to make up for the bread we gave them last year!, seven-year-old Shane had cried.
As she got closer, she crooked her head to the side, just a bit. She would have to ask David about that one. It wasn’t dissimilar to a mallard duck, its colors were just… different. It had a white and black body instead of tan and grey. And in place of the mallard’s staple green head, its head was covered in small brown feathers.
“It’s called a… um, нырок,” a woman said, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. “It is… a pochard, in your language? A kind of duck.”
“Oh,” Yuna said, turning to face the stranger. The sight took her breath away. Oh. The resemblance hit her like a punch to the gut. The same honey-colored curls, though hers was styled in a gorgeous twist at the back of her head. If Yuna could see past all of the times Ilya’s nose had been broken and re-healed, she imagined it would look something like the woman’s in front of her. And those eyes - a mix of hazel and gold with tiny flecks of green if you looked close enough. Ilya must have gotten his strong jaw from his father, because this woman’s features were narrow and sharp. Stunning.
When she smiled, it looked so like Ilya’s that Yuna could have cried.
“Irina,” she said.
“Yuna,” Irina said, bowing her head politely.
“I’m - what - how are we… talking?”
“Is a dream, I suppose. Ilya has them often. I see him, too. I see him always, but we speak when he visits me here.”
“Here…”
“Is a… park, I think you would call it? In Moscow. He wore skates for the first time on this pond. I was so scared,” she said, admitting it like a secret. “His little legs, they were so…”
Wobbly, she mimed, wiggling her hands around dramatically. Yuna laughed, sniffling a bit as she did.
“I felt the same way. My husband-“
“David,” Irina said, smiling fondly.
“Yes, David,” Yuna smiled back. “He played hockey. Not like Shane does, not like-“ It felt unfair, saying Ilya’s name in front of this woman, whose time with him had been cut so short. It dawned on her that she had known - in some way - Ilya for longer than his own mother. He’d been the impressive rookie, the diabolical competitor, the man her son brought home, the man who loved her son enough to sacrifice everything, and then, the man she’d come to see as her own.
“Not like Ilya,” Irina filled in, her eyes full of understanding. A silent acknowledgement of Yuna’s plight.
“How do you know David?” She asked, as if that was the strangest part of all of this.
“He helped Ilya with his - links?” She gestured to her wrists. “I know my English from watching Ilya grow up, is not the strongest.”
“His cufflinks,” Yuna realized. “He helped him…”
“At the wedding. He was not alone. It meant a great deal to me,” Irina said. “Please tell him that for me.” Irina faced the pond once more, her face taking on a melancholy expression. “I knew when Ilya fell in love with Shane, that he would never be able to come home. That his brother…” For a moment, she trailed off. “I tried, with Alexei. Very hard, I tried. His father…” Irina sighed, hugging herself. “I tried. I failed.”
“You raised an amazing young man,” Yuna said. “You did not fail. Not at all.”
“When they - with the ring,” she gestured to her ring finger, and Yuna nodded in understanding. “I was so happy, so happy for my boy. And so sad, too. I’m thinking, he will be alone, and is my fault. But he was not. Was with… David.”
“They are thick as thieves,” Yuna said. “Very close, I mean. They will spend hours together, doing jigsaw puzzles. David loves him very much.”
“You do, as well.”
“I really do,” Yuna said, the words sounding like a promise.
“I know. I have worried about him for so long. So many years, I worried I left him lonely.” Irina tuned to look at Yuna again. “I did. He was lonely, for many years. Was my biggest regret, but he is not alone anymore.” Irina stepped closer to Yuna, placing a hand on her upper arm. “Thank you. For loving him up close when I cannot.”
“I…” For a moment, Yuna was lost for words. “Thank you,” she finally settled on. “Thank you for bringing such an amazing person into this world. For shaping him into an amazing boy who became an amazing man. I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but he really is amazing.” Smiling shyly, Irina ducked her head down. “He is. I mean it. You should be so proud.”
Waving her hand dismissively, Irina shook her head, but her smile remained.
“He was born smiling,” she said. “The doctors - they were worried. He did not cry at first. They all joked, babies do not smile in Russia. Only cry. But he did.” A small chuckle. “He was born happy. And I gave him my sad.” Yuna shook her head, but Irina stopped her. “Is okay. I know it is… how it works. Genetics?” Yuna nodded again. “And so, this happy baby, I gave him my sad. And I did it again and again, every time I shut down. I gave him a little more of my sad.” Her head fell down towards the ground. “That day, the last one, I thought, this is it. I gave him all of my sad, and he will lose to it one day like I did. I didn’t mean to,” she rushed, as if desperate to convince Yuna.
“I know, I know,” Yuna promised, gripping both of the other woman’s hands. “It wasn’t your fault.”
For a beat, they were both silent, Yuna trying to look steadfast and convincing, Irina trying to believe her.
“I stayed with him for so long,” she said. “Years and years, though it did not feel that long to me, I waited with him. He didn’t smile again for very long time. Here and there, yes, with friends.” Irina shared a conspiratorial smile with Yuna. “But always with Shane. Always, he smiled. So thank you. For loving my son. But also for giving him someone to hold his sad, sometimes. Is the first time for years and years I can think - he will not lose to it like I did. He will not.”
“Can I give you a hug?” Yuna asked.
“Oh,” Irina sounded surprised, but nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
And so Yuna wrapped the much-younger woman up in a mama-bear-Hollander hug, wishing she could rob her of all her guilt and hurt and heartache.
She couldn’t do all of that. But she could hug her.
All things considered, her form was surprisingly corporeal. Warm and firm in Yuna’s arms, soft and hesitant around Yuna’s waist as she returned the embrace.
“I promise,” Yuna said, her chin resting on the other woman’s shoulder. “That we will love him for the rest of our lives. And then some.”
“I know.”
“Can we talk again some time?”
“I would love to,” Irina said sincerely. “I do not know how it works. Only that I open my eyes and am somewhere. Here with you. Here with Ilya. Home with Ilya.” She frowned slightly. “I have not spoken to Shane. I have tried, but not yet. Hopefully some day.”
“You may need to try the rink,” Yuna joked, and the two shared another smile.
“Yes. Good idea,” Irina teased. “He is there often.”
“I do hope we can talk again,” Yuna said, squeezing Irina’s hands again. “Is there - do you have a message for Ilya?”
“I have many messages for him, but we talk often,” she reassured Yuna. “He will know you have been here if you ask about the утки.”
Yuna attempted to repeat the word, butchering it her first two tries, until - finally - “утки.”
“Da! Yes! Perfect!” Irina clapped her hands together, beaming at her. “We fed them when he was little. Do not mention the bread. Is… sore topic.” Yuna laughed at that, thinking about little Shane’s teary face when he learned about bread. They really were meant to be. Maybe Yuna would share that story next time they were together.
“I will tell him,” Yuna promised. “Thank you. For Ilya. For this. I’m so glad to have met you.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
Yuna felt herself blink, the vision of Irina fading to black in front of her, opening her eyes to the sight of their duvet.
Home. She was home. There was coffee brewing downstairs, and the familiar sound of David moving around the house. No strange ducks. No Irina.
Sitting up, she fumbled around for her phone. 8:17 am. With muscle memory and shaky hands, she called Ilya.
“Morning, mom,” Ilya said. His voice was sleepy, but alert. She hadn’t woken him up, at least. “Everything is okay?”
“Yes, everything’s okay, I just - I had a… strange dream last night.” Ilya was quiet, so Yuna continued. “Does… утки mean anything to you?”
On the other end of the phone, Ilya gasped, a stream of Russian coming through the speaker. She and David had been practicing the language, but they were still at the level of hi my name is Yuna, not whatever Ilya was saying.
“Baby? Is everything okay?” Came Shane’s voice.
“Da, yes, is okay, I will fill you in soon - I think - Hollander, my wish, it came true.”
“Your-“
“My wish! Is a miracle, a magical shooting star! Oh, my mamochka! I have to go to your parents’, I have to talk to Yuna-“
“Ilya, slow down, what’s going on?”
“Our mothers,” Ilya finally said. “They have met. Was my biggest, most special wish.”
“Oh - um, of course,” Shane said, sounding like he was still trying to make sense of all of it. “Should we go? I can drive us?”
“Da, yes!” Ilya cheered. “We will be right there, we will talk! Oh, was it at the park? Wasn’t it beautiful?”
“It was so beautiful,” Yuna said, holding a hand over her heart. “And so was she. Drive safe, okay? We’ll talk once you’re here.”
“Okay, mom, I love you, see you soon!”
“I love you, too,” Yuna said, the words feeling infinitely more important than they ever had.