Reunited After 25 Years 15: Anton To the Rescue

"Oh, no!" Andrea wailed.

"Want me to try?" asked Anton. He tried to start the car himself but was also unsuccessful.

Together they managed to push the car to the side of the road and started on the trek to the nearest gas station, where Andrea called first a wrecker and then a taxi. Then they rode back to Anton's motel room. Once there, Andrea sank down onto the sofa and buried her head in her hands.

"God, Anton, what am I gonna do now?"

"Dear little Andrea, please do not be so sad." Anton sat beside her and began to massage her shoulder. "It is only a car. It could be Andrea who is broken instead. That would be much worse, would it not?"

"Yeah, you're right." Andrea chuckled. "You're so good at helping me put things in perspective...God, that feels so good...you have the world's most talented hands..."

"I know." Anton laughed. He was massaging both her shoulders now. Andrea closed her eyes and felt the tension in her body slowly ease away.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but your transmission is going to have to be replaced," the mechanic told Andrea. He told her how much the total repair would cost, and she paled.

"See! Nothing to worry about," said Anton. "I have that exact amount right here." He handed the mechanic the check Andrea's father had just given him.

"But that was your money for the immigration attorney!" Andrea protested. "I probably had enough on my credit card! I could have checked, at least..."

Anton put his finger to her lips. "Dear little Andrea, it is only money. I will get to stay. There will be another way. It is much more important to get your car fixed. You need it for work."

"But, Anton..."

"Sh. Not another word. It will be all right, I promise."

"Oh, Anton." Overcome, she could only cling to him, burying her face in his chest as he held her close.

For a week, Andrea was driven to and from work by Denny. The following weekend, he drove her to the mechanic to pick up her car, and she drove to Anton's motel room right away.

Anton was on the telephone speaking in Russian when Andrea rang his doorbell. He motioned for her to come in and sit down on the sofa. When he hung up the phone he grinned at her.

"See? The problem is already solved," he told her. "Remember how I told you I have a brother-in-law who is a famous ballet dancer?"

"Your sister's husband?"

"Nadya's brother."

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"His name is Sergei Medvedev. That was him on the phone just now. I told him about the situation with the car and the lawyer. He said he will send me the money for the lawyer."

"Wow! He'd really do that?" Andrea was overwhelmed with relief.

"I have know him for a long time. If he says he will, then he will."

Andrea chuckled. "So, did you tell him you're in love with an American Capitalist?"

Anton laughed and shook his head. "Oh, no. I did not say you are a Capitalist. I do not think of you as a Capitalist."

"What do you think of me as, then?"

He shrugged. "Just as Andrea." He grinned. "Why, do you think of me a Communist?"

"No, just as Anton, the man I love."

"Ah, Andrea, come here." He beckoned with his hands, and Andrea went to him. He held her close and softly stroked her hair, and she leaned her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. They just stood like that for a long time.