The Volkov Legacy

Maggie's Point of View.

I fed Jamie the last spoonful of mashed fruit, and he smiled, that toothless smile that lit up my day.

“There you go, champ, that's it for now,” I said, laughing when he made a face of discontent and banged on the tray of his high chair, waiting for more. “Oh, buddy, you have to eat slowly,” I said as he frowned as if he were really angry. That expression... it was impossible not to notice how much he looked like Dominic.

I didn't know much about Jamie's father, only that he disappeared as quickly as he appeared, but that expression—the way Dominic frowned when he was focused or angry—I had seen it many times.

“Your father used to make that face too,” I thought to myself, imagining telling Jamie about it when he was older. "You have his look... Sorry, baby,“ I said, running my finger between his furrowed eyebrows.

He mumbled something that sounded like ”mama," and I couldn't help but smile.

My little one was already trying to talk, even if it was with jumbled words.

I took Jamie's bib off and picked him up, still grumbling.

“Come on, come on, you've had enough to eat, now it's time for lunch, okay?” He kept banging his little hands on the high chair, clearly dissatisfied. I decided to distract him by making car noises with my mouth, an exaggerated “vroom.” Jamie laughed and soon began to imitate the sound too, which made me laugh along with him. After wiping his mouth and hands with a damp cloth, we left the small kitchen. I grabbed my bag and Jamie's from the bedroom, throwing them over my shoulders as if I were preparing for a mission. I looked at my watch and sighed. “Damn, we're already late.”

As I crossed the living room, I felt my stomach growl. There was no time for a decent breakfast, so I grabbed a banana from the kitchen.

“This will have to do,” I thought, stuffing the fruit into my bag. “I can eat it on the way from daycare to work.”

When I got to the elevator, I saw the yellow sign: “Out of order.” “Oh, great. Of all days.” I cursed under my breath, but held back... I didn't like swearing, and it wasn't good for Jamie to hear that kind of thing, even if he was still learning to talk.

You could never be too careful.

I held Jamie tightly and ran down the stairs as fast as I could. Each step felt like a marathon with him in my arms, the heavy bag slung over one shoulder, Jamie's bag over the other, and the stuffed lion he never let go of almost slipping through my fingers.

“Why do babies come with so many accessories?” I thought, laughing inside as I tried to balance everything.

We rushed through the building lobby, and I practically flew to the parking lot. I put Jamie in his car seat in the back with the skill of someone who has done it a thousand times, secured the bags, and ran to the front seat. Everything was ready, I just had to start the car.

I turned the key.

The car made a strange noise and died. I took a deep breath and tried again. Nothing.

“Seriously?” I banged on the steering wheel in frustration. “Please, please, please,” I muttered, as if the car could hear me. “I swear I'll fill you up with gas later, just help me get there.”

I tried again. The engine made a noise, it looked like it was going to start... and died again.

I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of frustration crush me. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, almost crying, when I heard Jamie in the back seat.

“Mama... vroom vroom,” he said, imitating the sound of the car. I lifted my head and looked at him, who was watching me with those bright little eyes.

He smiled.

My heart melted instantly. How could he be so small and yet give me so much strength? I smiled back, feeling the energy return to my body.

“Okay, little one, let's go. Mommy will get this car working, I promise.”

I sighed, wondering if we should waste more time trying to get the car working and risk losing my shift to someone else, or spend a lot of money on a taxi driving around Las Vegas from home to daycare and from daycare to work.

I returned to the steering wheel, determined. God couldn't be that mean to a single mother with two jobs. I turned the key once more, carefully. And this time, like a miracle, the engine finally started. I let out a little squeal of joy, and Jamie, imitating me, clapped his hands, all excited.

“See? We can do it!” I exclaimed, laughing along with him.

Leaving the parking lot as fast as I can, I drive through the streets of Vegas, my heart still racing, but happy to finally be on my way.

The clock read seven in the morning, and it felt like I had already lived a whole day. But I still had a long way to go.

Two hours later, at a frantic pace, I walk back to the snack bar counter, feeling a little out of it, probably caused by hours without eating properly and working tirelessly.

“Are you okay, Maggie? You look pale,” Jenn's voice snapped me out of my thoughts as I balanced the tray full of empty dishes I had just collected. The lunch rush was intense, from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon, we hardly had a minute to rest. I hadn't stopped since I arrived, and with only a banana in my stomach, I wondered how I was still standing.

“I think I'm going to pass out, but who has time for that?” I tried to joke, placing the tray in the kitchen window for the cleaning staff to collect. Jenn looked at me with a concerned expression as I picked up another order for two other tables.

“If you pass out, you'll have to stop anyway,” Jenn replied, grabbing two trays at once, while I protested, saying everything was fine. “Go ask Clyde to make you something to eat. I can take over the tables for twenty minutes, it won't be the end of the world.”

I sighed, too exhausted to argue. Jenn was right, and I knew it.

“Thanks,” I muttered softly, taking off my apron and walking toward the kitchen.

As soon as I entered, I felt Clyde's gaze fall on me. He was in the square making sandwiches, but as soon as he saw me, he stopped what he was doing and took a few steps toward me.

“You look like you're going to collapse any minute,” he said in that deep voice of his, full of concern.

I let out a sigh, too tired to hide my exhaustion.

“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling a little embarrassed for needing help.

Clyde, being the amazing guy he always was, ran his hand through my hair, which was tied up in a messy bun, and tucked a loose strand behind my ear.

“You need to slow down a little, Maggie. You look beautiful as always, but you're exhausted,” he said with a gentle smile.

That touch made me take a step back. I knew how Clyde felt about me, but I didn't want to encourage him. Not that he was a bad guy, quite the contrary, but I just didn't have room for that. Jamie's father had already been more than I could handle.

Something that started out casual and unpretentious ended in pregnancy and the responsibility of raising a child on my own. And as much as I loved Jamie with all my heart, taking care of him alone on a waitress and dog walker's salary was anything but easy.

Clyde got the message right away, respectful as he always was. He took a step back, that understanding smile on his face.

“I'll make you something to eat before you go back to the tables. It won't take long.”

“Thank you,” I said again, this time with a little more feeling, as I sat down on a stool near the kitchen counter. Even with the chaos around me, the noise of pots and pans and orders being shouted, my mind began to wander.

Almost two years ago, it was me standing where Clyde was now, making sandwiches for two, and where I was sitting now was Dominic, that mysterious man with the most intense eyes I had ever seen.

He watched me as if I were the most interesting thing in the world, silently, always carrying a presence that threw me off balance. At the time, I thought Dominic would just be a temporary distraction. Something that would leave no marks.

I remembered that it was the third night in a row that Dominic had shown up at the diner. He always sat at the same table, near the window, where the neon lights of Las Vegas seeped through the worn curtains, casting colorful reflections on the worn tile floor. I knew he would come, almost as if it were part of my routine now.

Three nights, and I still couldn't understand what he was doing there, waiting for me.