“Nikolai, you should stay here. I can wait until someone else comes to get me if you want or I can go home by myself—"
Nikolai instantly began shaking his head. I was all prepared to argue with him when he said, "Please, Jude, I need to do this."
I realized then that he actually wanted to take me home because he needed to get the hell out of there.
"Okay," I said.
Nikolai nodded and said, "I'm going to grab Nattie and take her to my parents."
He stepped back into the playroom to collect his niece. When he came back out, I quietly followed him to where his parents were waiting. They looked completely devastated but put on a brave face for Natalia as they spoke to her in Russian.
The little girl nodded and then looked at me. "Bye, Jude," she said and then she was wrapping her arms around my waist.
I knelt down so I could give her a proper hug and said, "Thanks for letting me play Legos with you."
She nodded against my neck and said, "You're really good at it."
I found myself smiling as I released her. Nikolai lifted her up and hugged her tight and said something to her in Russian. The little girl nodded vigorously and then laughed at something he said. He handed her over to his father before saying his goodbyes and leading me from the hospital.
After a quiet ride back to my apartment, I fully expected to go our separate ways but when Nikolai opened his door, entered his apartment and then left the door wide open behind him, I got the silent message and followed him inside. He immediately went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of what I could only assume was scotch or whiskey. He snagged two shot glasses and filled each one.
It was far too early to drink in my mind, but one look at Nikolai's pained expression and I knew this was something he needed. Not for me to join him in a drink, but for me to be there. Nikolai threw back the drink and poured himself another. I took my drink and swallowed it before holding out the glass. Nikolai filled it and then grabbed the bottle and headed for the couch. I followed him to the living room.
The room had plenty of places I could sit that would provide distance between me and Nikolai, but something about the way Nikolai practically collapsed onto the expensive leather furniture had me dismissing the idea of sitting anywhere but next to him. Nikolai downed his third shot and then filled the fourth. Since I could already feel the alcohol warming my system, I took my time just sipping at the amber liquid in my glass.
"He's just a little kid," Nikolai said softly, his voice taut with anger. I didn't blame him. No kid deserved what was happening to little Maks.
"It might not be cancer, Nikolai," I said softly.
Nikolai shook his head. "He's been sick a lot this past year. He gets lots of infections, has stomach problems. Can't keep food down. Elena keeps taking him to his pediatrician, but he says Maks is just one of those sickly kids and he'd grow out of it."
Nikolai downed the drink before adding bitterly, "We knew it was more than that. We knew, but that asshole just wouldn't listen."
"Have you taken him to see a specialist?" I asked.
"Specialists cost money," Nikolai murmured. His words were slurring just a little bit. I figured there was no way he would have been telling me such personal information if he'd been sober. I felt like I was cheating somehow by even listening to what he was saying, but I wasn't about to leave him there by himself. Even if he didn't need me, Nikolai needed someone.
"What about insurance?" I asked.
"You have to have it,” he muttered.
Nikolai was silent for a moment before he said, "My parents tried to keep up with the payments but they just kept going up every year. And it was that HMO shit so they don’t even cover everything… just the bare necessities.”
I thought back to the day I’d met Nikolai. When I’d done that initial research on him, I’d assumed his parents had been behind on their payments for their business because the business had been failing or they’d been financially reckless, but now I started to wonder if that wasn't the case at all. If there was no insurance and the little boy