Chapter 20

Praise Jesus! Finally a day to get away from the smorgasbord of fear, suspicion and escalating rounds of payback which have been plaguing Vika’s first days in Riga.

The eighteenth of November dawned cool and overcast. Irena would have loved this bleak enchanting day. Vika smiled thinking about how her mother relished this gloomy barren month—her sweet November. It must be some melancholic remembrance of love lost and regained, some secrets her mother kept from her but had hinted at. Vika herself loved the heat of July. Not in New York but in the Hamptons where Bernie owned a small villa and where people in his line of work gathered to enjoy summer.

Right from early morning Vika could tell this would be a day she’d always remember. Tiny flakes of snow sparkled in the wind as Latvia’s flags fluttered throughout the city. There was a palpable air of excitement and celebration. Vika heart soared knowing she would be a part of it.

Eggy had called her the night before and offered to accompany her to the ceremonial events which were held every year to mark Latvia’s independence. Vika’s only regret had been that she hadn’t brought sensible clothes. Usually her overseas trips didn’t last long—merely a day or two to accomplish her mission and look around a bit. Now the thought of leaving Latvia in a few days shocked her. Of course not! How could she leave? How could she go back? Then the appalling reality— her mother alone in New York with Bernie sniffing around—stopped her in her tracks. Fear certainly wasn’t about to leave her alone. Still, she was determined, if just for a few hours, to focus on this special day.

Eggy offered his arm and Vika felt honored, humbled and confused all at the same time. This was clearly a gesture of protection and companionship. She was not used to friendly gestures.  Bernie had just wanted to parade her around his rich old work buddies. To make them jealous.

As if drawn there by some enchantment, throngs of people streamed towards the Freedom Monument. Vika’s heart was tight with emotion. This was no rowdy July fourth parade with painted faces and boorish behavior. This was solemn and heartfelt.

Time seemed to stop as she stood there, doing nothing but looking.  Eggy pointed upwards to the monument of Mother Latvia holding aloft her three stars

“Shots were fired. There’s a hole in her shoulder as a reminder,” Eggy explained. “We had to fight for our country and for our freedom.”

Vika made no reply but her eyes glistened with tears. She thought about her grandmother, Anna, and fragments of remembered conversations jostled for her attention.

Then, when the national anthem was played, she could no longer hold back the tears. Memories took hold. Her grandfather sent to Siberia by the communists for putting flowers at the foot of the monument. Her grandmother once taking her to a Latvian expat church service commemorating this day. A long forgotten past, buried for so long, now claimed her.

Eggy lightly put his arm around her shoulders. He tried for levity while handing Vika a clean handkerchief.

“We could have attended a special service in the Dome Cathedral but you would have had to get up early. Impossible, right?”

“I could really do with a nice warm drink right about now,” Vika said, her voice tremulous as she wiped her eyes and returned the handkerchief. She liked Eggy but gone was the spellbinding effect he had had on her earlier.

“I know just the place. Ladies really like it. My friend, Gunita, is a regular.”

“Your friend Gunita…” Vika trailed off with a sly smile.

“No no. Just a good friend. I spent a whole year at the Art Academy and I still have friends from those long past days. Perhaps you’d like to meet them some day.”

“Some day? Don’t I wish,” Vika replied with a sigh, suddenly thinking of her mother and trying not to think of her husband.

Mingling with the flow of pedestrians, they strode along Barona Street all the way to Lacplesa Street and arrived at Osiris. Vika on Eggy’s arm. She was finally starting to feel comfortable with this style. She saw women arm in arm. Men too. This was Europe. This was how things were done in polite society.

“This place used to be so popular with foreigners. Now it’s not as interesting—as many things have become less interesting,” Eggy said with uncharacteristic nostalgia.

Today the place was packed. It was really small and nondescript but Vika could sense a certain artistic vibe. The crowd was lively, everyone celebrating. And everyone polite. They were able to squeeze themselves into two remaining seats, sharing a table for four.

Eggy ordered coffee and Balzams. “No need for food, we’re all invited to Simone’s for a dinner party.”

Vika smiled happily. “How nice!”

“Simone would have liked to be here with us but she’s been up all night helping Aunt Velga with preparations. And Arsy will be there as well. Svetlana is recovering. So, it’ll be quite a party.”

Vika was glad she wouldn’t be alone. She really needed to be with local people right now and the thought of spending the evening back at the hotel had appalled her.

“Should I bring something? Maybe—”

Momentarily distracted, Vika stared. One of the patrons they shared the table with looked strangely familiar.

She leaned towards him. “Excuse me, but haven’t we met somewhere?”

Dark eyes in a swarthy face stared back. Blank. Expressionless.

Vika persisted. “Yes. Now I remember. On the plane. You warned me not to wear my diamonds.”

A shrug and a non comprende is all she received as the man threw some coins on the table and left in a hurry.