Lara Vapnyar - Still Here

“Too bad we don’t have any food,” Sergey said.

Eric reached into his pockets and pulled out a bunch of baby carrots in various stages of decay.

“I wonder if they are still chock-full of A and C,” Sergey said.

Eric threw a few toward the deer.

The deer jolted back.

“Don’t throw them! Offer her some,” Sergey said.

Eric took a few steps forward and extended his hand as far as he could.

The deer looked away and headed back into the woods.

“She doesn’t understand the concept of the carrot,” Eric said.

Sergey’s heart tightened with an overwhelming mix of tenderness, worry, and guilt. But then wasn’t this what parental love was supposed to feel like?

“Will you have time to come into the house?” Eric asked when they got into the car. “I could show you how deathcams work and other stuff.”

“Sure,” Sergey said.

He would play with Eric, then he would go home and send out his résumé to all those banks he had marked and answer all his LinkedIn inquiries. And tonight, after they watched that stupid movie, he would finally man up and make love with Helen.

It was almost dark by the time they made it back to the house. The first thing he saw was Vica’s car, parked a mere inch away from the garage door. Vica never slowed down when she drove into the driveway. She took pride in making her turns sharp and precise.

“I’m sorry, Eric,” Sergey said, “I think we’d better look at your games some other time.”

Eric tried to hide his disappointment under a mask of male camaraderie. “Sure, Dad,” he said, “or if you install a console at your place, we could play each other.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sergey said.

He waited until Eric entered the house and started to pull away. Just then the front door opened with a bang and Vica came running toward the car, barefoot.

Sergey stopped the car and rolled down the window. “What is it?” he asked, hoping that his voice wouldn’t tremble.

“Could you come out for a second?” she said.

Sergey got out of the car, bracing himself for a very unpleasant conversation.

But Vica wasn’t saying anything. She just stood in the driveway, in her ridiculous too-tight yoga pants, her bare feet pressing into the gravel. There was that hungry, pleading look on her face that he hadn’t seen in such a long time that it took him a while to recognize it.

“Do you want me to come in?” he asked.

She nodded and started to cry.

Sergey winced at Vica’s stupid emoji and checked the time before putting the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He still had about four hours before he had to head to Williamsburg for Vadik’s going-away party. He had called Sergey two weeks ago to tell him that he was leaving for Singapore. Sergey’s heart leaped with joy when he first heard Vadik’s voice, then he thought about him and Vica, and the joy got mired in anger and pain. They met for a drink and talked about what was happening with Virtual Grave, and Regina’s decision to adopt a child (Can you believe it!), and Vadik’s plans. They were both careful not to mention Vica. It turned out that Vadik didn’t really have plans. His headhunter had offered him a two-year contract overseas, and he had jumped at the opportunity. Singapore!

“Perhaps this was for the better,” Sergey said to Vica when he got home that night. Better for Vadik and for their friendship too. Perhaps what they needed was some distance in order to salvage what they had. Vica just nodded in agreement.

A bicycle bell made Sergey jump. He was walking down the narrow East Ninth Street on his way to Goebbels’s place. Even though he was officially back together with Vica, Sergey still had to feed Goebbels and spend some nights with him. He wondered if he was going to miss the cat. His owner was coming back in two weeks. Sergey would definitely miss this apartment, having a room of his own, getting to spend some time by himself. The idea of having a room of his own had supported him all through the turbulent process of reconciliation. He and Vica would be in the midst of yet another screaming fight and he would remind himself that there was a dark, quiet, cat-smelling retreat just thirty minutes away.

“But it’s getting better, isn’t it?” his mother asked. It was. He had to admit that it was.

The moment of clarity came after the call from Cleo. Bank of America had just offered him a junior financial analyst position. He had given up on Virtual Grave and was ready to accept it. He went ahead and took the drug test and filled out all the forms for the background check.

Then the call came just as he, Vica, and Eric were walking along the beach in Great Kills. Eric was crouching nearby trying to revive a horseshoe crab. The number was unfamiliar and Sergey hesitated before picking up.

“Sergey? This is Cleo Triantafyllides.” Sweet female voice. He had no idea who that was. He walked away from the surf to hear her better.

“We met a few weeks ago,” Cleo said. “I used to work as James Kisco’s assistant.”

Cleo! The doll-faced, slightly frightening girl.

“Yes, I remember,” Sergey said. He was pacing back and forth, barefoot, on the cold lumpy sand, while Vica sat down on a driftwood log.

Cleo told him that she had decided to branch out and set up her own start-up with her friend Mischa, another Wharton grad who was “amazingly savvy.” They were looking to develop a project that would truly stand out. And they thought that Virtual Grave would be an ideal start. Both she and Mischa loved how dark and edgy it was. They didn’t have a lot of money, so they couldn’t offer him much, but they were willing to pay him a modest salary while the project was in development stage. And a share of the profits later on. They had a wonderful team of very hot young programmers and designers. She knew that they could build something truly beautiful together. She hoped to meet and discuss the details in the next few days.

Sergey’s first thought was No, let me be. He was so tired of that roller coaster. Bob, Kisco, Kotov. Hopes up, hopes down. It was so much easier to give up. Sergey was almost hoping that Vica would tell him to do just that when he told her about Cleo’s call.

He walked over and sat down next to her on that driftwood log. He described Cleo’s offer, expecting her to say: “Forget about it! You have a nice offer from Bank of America.”

But instead Vica hopped off the log and started to jump up and down. “I knew it! I knew it!” she was screaming. “I always thought that Virtual Grave was a brilliant idea! Brilliant!”

Then she leaped at him, making him fall off the log, and fell on top of him. They toppled and tumbled around on the sand, laughing like crazy, until the worried Eric left his crab alone and ran up to them.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Eric! We just sold our app!” Vica screamed. “It’s gonna work. People are gonna use it!”

“Yeah!” Eric yelled and hurled himself down onto the sand too.

“There is no way of knowing if it will be successful,” Sergey said when they got up and were cleaning the sand off themselves.

“It doesn’t matter,” Vica said. “We need to see it through, up until the very end.”

“Is that the one where you’re respawning people?” Eric asked.

“Yep,” Sergey said.

“That’s seriously cool!”