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Our lives' sudden turns…

"My memories of growing up in Moscow?" Jana said with a slight Russian accent. She looked straight at the guy sitting next to her at the bar. He was a complete stranger, just a guy on the stool next to her...

By Irina PattersonPublished 3 years ago Updated 3 years ago 5 min read
3
image credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/dark-night-lights-bar-store-bokeh-2595778/

Jana decided to check out this new Miami bar on a whim.

She glanced at the stranger next to her and suddenly laughed aloud, nearly doubling over, "I remember how mom used to throw us, my brother Timmy and I, in the round hole on a frozen pond in the harsh Moscow winter.

“My dad would cut a circle in the ice with a chainsaw — it was the size of a large manhole. The icicles hung from its ragged perimeter.

“Mom acted as if it was a bathtub. Timmy and I were still toddlers.”

“That's a mean mommy,” the stranger laughed loudly which caught the attention of several women at the other end of the bar.

“No,” Jana smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth. “That was her way of toughening us up. Mom was a pediatrician.”

The stranger nodded, approvingly, not taking his eyes off Jana.

She wore a low-cut black blouse with jeans and heels. She already had a couple of drinks and felt surprisingly happy. She straightened her back and looked up. Her eyes were on fire reflecting the light of dozens of candles placed along the bar.

The stranger met her gaze. His kind brown eyes appeared tired. He was about sixty-five, to Jana's forty-three, and he had a pleasant face. He was quite tall and wore light blue jeans, an open-collared shirt, and a gray sport coat.

He leaned towards her and grabbed his drink, “tell me more about yourself.”

Suddenly, she wanted to tell him everything. Was she looking for a father figure? She had always been lonely in this way. Her birth father, her Russian father, really never was. He was always too busy, and he died five years ago.

Jana sighed, “If you google me – my name is Jana Melamed – you’ll find a lot about me. I'm on the board of quite a few startups and run a VC firm which I co-founded with my older brother Tim.”

Jana never revealed this to strangers in bars, but for some reason, she felt at ease with him.

“We made our first million in the early 2000s. There were the three of us — my brother Tim, his best friend Jimmy, and me.

“We started by coding web stores, very simple, using HTML code. I was still in high school and Tim and Jimmy were just starting their first year at the University of Miami.

“For every job, we charged a few hundred dollars,” Jana said, looking at her stranger. “You want me to go on?” He nodded for her to continue.

“I remember thinking to myself, 'we are rich!' she laughed.

“Growing up, we didn't have money. Our parents moved us from Moscow to Miami in the 1990s. Our dad was a prominent math professor at Moscow State University and mom was a highly sought-after pediatrician. That was the time shortly after Boris Yeltsin took power.

Mom is Jewish. That's how they were able to get a visa to leave.

“Our parents — bright people, but they had no credentials that would be immediately useful in the US. They spoke very little English.

“They started by cleaning apartments but eventually found their footing. My dad went to Florida International University on a state scholarship and got his Ph.D. in math. Mom became successful at selling real estate, mostly to the wealthy Russians that flooded Florida after the perestroika.

“While our internet business went through the roof, our parents didn't approve. They wanted us to be doctors or lawyers.

“Then Alan, Jimmy's older brother, joined us and began building a website for the Miami Nightlife magazine. From that exposure, we got an offer from a New York businessman — a million-dollar investment in our company.

“We took him up on his offer, just by a handshake. Two years later we sold our company to a private equity firm.”

Jana looked at her accidental companion to check his reaction, he was smiling like a proud father, then asked,

“And how did you get into the VC business?”

Jana had a sip of wine before answering.

“After a year in New York City, where we lived with Alan's wife and their six-month-old son — we decided to move back to Miami.

“In Miami, Tim and Jimmy went back to college. I sat around day after day — contemplating my next move.

“Alan asked me if I would be interested in lending money to startups as an angel investor. He said there were lots of venture capitalists who wanted a piece of the action but weren't willing to do the rounds of small meetings with entrepreneurs.

“Alan's idea was pretty simple. I would lend money, put in my own sweat equity, and use his business acumen to make our investments successful. That is exactly what we did in 2005 when we started Melamed Ventures.

Jana had been wondering who this stranger really was and where this conversation was going. He must have read her mind.

“Sorry, Jana,” he paused, “I didn't introduce myself before. My name is Vincent McCall. My Wild Pear Tree Foundation supports innovation in Russia and around the world. Would you be interested in joining our board?” he asked, placing his business card on the glossy countertop.

He then began to rise, saying “I must go. My apologies. Call me tomorrow morning and we'll discuss it then.” He motioned the barman over, paid for their drinks, and walked away, leaving Jana alone.

She touched the silhouette of a pear tree imprinted on his card. It reminded her of the pear tree in her grandmother's backyard in Moscow. She felt like she had come full circle.

As she swiveled on her stool to watch him leave, she saw how wide his shoulders were and began to miss him already.

drawing by irina patterson

Dear Readers, thank you for reading! I write mostly about love. Feel free to share my stories with your loved ones. Special Thanks to Pam Mayer — my tireless friend, editor, and collaborator.

Short Story
3

About the Creator

Irina Patterson

M.D by education -- entertainer by trade. I try to entertain when I talk about anything serious. Consider subscribing to my stuff, I promise never to bore you.

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