Chapter Text
It’s just another Thursday for Yuna, watching Shane in his ice hockey class while she skimmed the page of the book in her lap, not really taking in the words but keeping her eyes on her son. He’s skating in between cones at the moment, his stick held firmly in his grasp as he carefully moved the puck between the targets. He was by himself at the station with one of the assistant skaters, but he hasn’t seemed to notice, or even care.
Shane was always outside of the group; it’s not obvious, if you weren’t here every week, but Yuna could see it. He just never seemed to bond with any of the other kids in his class. Or at school. It worried Yuna more than she let on, but David kept telling her she just had to give him time to find his people. She thought he would find it at ice hockey, since it was his favourite thing to do, but no luck. At this point, Yuna would be happy if Shane could just find a person.
The problem was, even at his young age, Shane was doing exceptionally well in his class. He did stand out from the other boys, and the coach was already keen for Shane to stick with the sport, maybe even getting him playing with the older classes. Yuna was supportive, of course; but she was sure her enthusiasm had rubbed the other parents the wrong way, as they never invited her to sit with them, hence the book. But it didn’t matter - she was there for Shane, and she would never hold him back to make someone else feel better.
However, there is something different today, because sitting a few rows ahead of her at the seats closest to the ice, was a new parent. A young woman, younger than Yuna, was sitting there, her curly dark blonde hair spilling out from under her hat. Her hazel eyes never left the ice, a small smile on her face as she watched one of the boys play; Yuna hadn’t noticed the new kid in the class. The woman was fiddling with her necklace in her hand, which Yuna assumed could be a nervous trait.
Yuna didn’t know what made her get up and move down to the woman… a part of her just wanted to introduce herself, before she would undoubtedly join the clique of parents.
“Hi,” Yuna said brightly, mentally cursing herself when the woman jumped. “Sorry, hi! I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Yuna.”
The woman’s brows furrowed, an annoyed look on her face. Retreat Yuna, retreat. “Sorry for bothering you, I just wanted to say hi, my son is in this class, as well. Anyway, I’ll-”
“Ah… sorry, English is… is not first language,” the woman said quietly. Her accent was thick, and unmistakably Russian.
“Oh, sorry!” Yuna repeated, feeling flustered. “I’m speaking too fast, aren’t I? Sorry,” she took a breath, and held out her hand. “I’m Yuna,” she repeated. The woman took her hand quickly, her hands bony and delicate.
“Irina,” she replied, before gesturing for Yuna to sit with her. Quickly, Yuna did. “Sorry, I have not been in Canada long.”
“No problem at all; welcome to Canada! Is that your boy?” Yuna asked, gesturing over to the child that had similar hair to Irina, which was poking out from under his helmet. He was taller than Shane, though his little hockey outfit still seemed to still dwarf him. He had a serious look on his face, but his eyes were light as he watched the other boys play. He was tapping his stick on the ice, clearly itching to get into the game.
“Ah… yes,” Irina nodded, taking a few seconds to translate the question, “Ilyusha.” Irina looked over at her son, a small smile on her face. “Is my Ilya.”
“He is the spitting image of you,” Yuna said, cringing at herself when she saw the confusion come over the other woman’s face. “Ah, sorry - you and Ilya,” she gestured to her Irina, and then her son, “you look the same.”
“Is hair,” Irina said, touching her curly hair. It was more than that, Yuna thought privately, but she didn’t voice this. “And… your…”
“My son, Shane.” Yuna pointed him out, a proud smile on her face. Shane had moved to the goals, carefully shooting the puck into it with the coach. He was totally focused in his own world, ignoring all the noise around him. Yuna was so proud that he could have such focus at his age. All the other kids seemed to be there for fun, and sure, Shane was too, but his approach to fun was different. “He loves hockey. We’ve had him on the ice since he could walk.”
The words seemed like too much, again, even though Irina seemed keen to speak to her. “He is very good,” Irina said, nodding. “Ilya play in Russia. He was always best in class, his coach was sure he could make big in hockey.”
“Maybe he will be good competition for Shane,” Yuna joked.
“Maybe,” Irina shrugged, a small smile going on her face as she watched Ilya finally get a chance to play. Yuna nearly missed how Shane had finally taken notice of the other boy in class. “I want him to have fun, yes? Is right word?”
“Yes, it is.” Yuna confirmed with a nod.
After class, Yuna and Irina headed around to the locker rooms to help the boys out of their skates. Shane was already in his usual spot, waiting for Yuna. He greeted her with a wide smile, and Yuna gave Irina a small wave as she went to help her son. She couldn’t help but overhear them talk - Russian was such an interesting language to hear, after all.
“Mama! Ty videla menya na l'du?” Ilya asked, practically skipping over to Irina. Irina’s smile brightened and went down to her knees to give him a hug.
“Ilya, ty byl velikolepen! Tebe ponravilos' na uroke?” Irina replied, stroking his hair.
“Da, no ya poka ne mogu ponyat' instruktsiyu.” Ilya muttered to her.
“Ty tak i sdelayesh', moya lyubov'. Prosto poka chto sleduy primeru drugikh parney.” Irina told him, her tone soft.
“Ostal'nyye mal'chiki ne tak khoroshi. Za isklyucheniyem etogo mal'chika,” and then, Ilya was pointing over to Shane. Shane hadn’t seemed to notice, but Yuna did, and would love to know what Ilya was saying. Irina looked over and her smile widened.
"Yego zovut Shane, Ilya." Irina told him, saying Shane’s name slowly. That made Shane look up.
“Da, on mne skazal. U nego na litse zvozdy.” Ilya said, and while neither Hollander had any idea what he had said, it made Irina laugh. She gestured for Ilya to sit next to Shane, kneeling on the floor by Yuna as she helped take off his skates.
“Ilya says that Shane is, er, very good. But now, he said Shane has stars on his face.”
“Stars on his…” Yuna thought for a moment, before it clicked. “You mean his freckles, Ilya?” Yuna gently touched the freckles covering Shane’s cheeks and nose. Usually, Shane would be pushing her fingers away, but his eyes were glued on Ilya. Ilya, who nodded quickly when she guessed right.
“Da!” Yuna could guess that meant yes.
“Well, that’s a nice name for your freckles, Shane.” Yuna said, pulling off the final skate. Shane just hummed in agreement, but the smile never left his face. They said goodbye to Irina and Ilya, and headed for their car.
“Mummy, will he be back at our next class?” Shane suddenly asked; it took Yuna second to work out who he was talking about.
“Ilya?” she looked into the rearview mirror to see him nod. “Yes, I think so. He seemed to have fun.”
“... Okay,” Shane said softly, giving nothing else away, except for the hand that touched his freckles.
*
Shane was in luck, because at the next class, Ilya was in the locker room, getting his skates tied, his helmet held in his hands. Irina was with him, of course, and smiled in what looked like relief at the sight of them.
“Shane!” Ilya shouted, waving at him. Surprisingly, Shane waved back.
“Hi, Ilya!” He said, before tugging at his mum’s sleeve. “Mum, get me ready quickly so I can go out with Ilya.”
“We’ll be as quick as we can.” Yuna promised, directing Shane to sit with Ilya. Ilya turned to Shane and began to talk to him in Russian, which obviously Shane couldn’t understand, but it didn’t stop him from nodding along as if he did.
“Hi,” Yuna said to Irina - Ilya was ready now, his helmet clipped in place, but he was still too busy talking to Shane to have gotten up from the bench and onto the rink. “How are you?”
“Good, yes.” Irina said, pulling her curls out of her face.
“You want to get a coffee?” Yuna asked Irina. “Instead of sitting by the rink? The cafe has windows, so we can see the boys on the ice.” Yuna waited for Irina to process the words; she was used to doing it with Shane, sometimes. Irina nodded, before cursing in Russian.
“I did not bring cash,” she said apologetically, but Yuna was already waving her off.
“I’ve got this one, don’t worry!” Yuna led Irina to the cafe - it was a bit dated, and the coffee always left a funny taste in her mouth, but it was also like a second home. “Shane was happy to see Ilya,” Yuna said, once they had their coffee.
“Yes, Ilya too. Ask me all week about Shane. I think he was bored at home.”
“Home?” Yuna asked, cocking her head to the side. “Was he not at school this week?”
“Ah… not yet, I am finding it… difficult to do paperwork.” Irina made a face, and took a sip of her coffee. “Lots of words, I do not understand. I do not want to do it wrong.”
“Oh, well, I can help with that.” Yuna offered, thinking of how her own parents struggled with English when they moved to Canada. “So… is it just you and Ilya at home? Shane is an only child too.”
There was a pause, but this time, Yuna wasn’t sure if it was because Irina didn’t understand what she was saying. “No,” she said, looking down at her coffee. “Ilya has older brother. But he lives with his father.”
“Oh… that can’t be easy,” Yuna said, a frown on her face. She couldn’t imagine not having Shane living with her. “Are they in Canada, too?”
“No, back in Russia. He would not leave his papa.” Irina’s jaw was clenched. “Was difficult, to go without him. But better for us here, I think. I hope Alexei will change his mind, when I am more, er…”
“Settled?” Yuna offered, and Irina nodded. Yuna didn’t want to seem pushy, but she wanted to understand this situation better. “So, are you married?”
“We are, but he is… no good for me. He is not nice man. Not to me or Ilya.” Irina said carefully, but she didn’t need to say anything else. This wasn’t the first woman Yuna had encountered that had a piece of shit for a partner. She was once again so thankful to have David. “We come here, because we have friend who plays ice hockey in America. He tell my husband that Ilya could get career in hockey, but we should move to Canada to get a head start. Husband does not like this, but I insist I go, for Ilya.” Irina looked up, her face pinched. “Do I make sense to you?”
“Perfectly.” Yuna confirmed, sending her what she hoped was a relaxed smile. “I heard Russia has a good hockey league too?”
“Yes, it does. But our friend… he can see I also need out of Russia.” Irina admitted. “So he has helped us move. We see how we get on, in Ottawa. Maybe we stay.”
The two mothers don’t say anything for a moment, just look out onto the ice where their boys are standing together. Although Ilya can’t speak a word of English yet, he is saying something to Shane, gesturing wildly with his stick in one hand. And Shane? He’s actually not paying attention to the coach for once, and has his head thrown back with laughter. Yuna swallowed, because she realised she really needed Ilya and Irina to stay, because she had never seen her son at such ease with another child.
“You know what, why don’t you come over for dinner this week? You and Ilya? We can do your paperwork then.”
“To your house?” Irina checked. “Will, er… your husband be ok with that?”
“Yes to my house, and yes - David will love to meet you both.” Yuna nodded, a smile on her face. Shane had never had a friend over before, and Yuna was starting to understand that Irina really needed a friend right now.
*
David has never seen Yuna so nervous, nor Shane. Every room Yuna cleaned, Shane was behind her, making sure everything looked right. Even his room was spotless, his tiny trophies that he had won in his mini ice hockey games carefully lined up. Yuna had kept saying she wanted the evening to go perfect.
The doorbell hadn’t even had a chance to ring before Shane was announcing loudly that their guests had arrived. He hovered by the door, his fingers twisting together with either nerves or excitement. Maybe both? However, even when David encouraged him to open the door, it ended up falling to Yuna.
“Irina, Ilya, hi!” Yuna welcomed them in, her smile bright. “Welcome, come on in - this is my husband, David.”
“David, hello.” Irina said softly, shaking his offered hand before nudging her son forward. “Thank you for having us.”
“Hello, sir.” Ilya said, the English words awkward. He was standing so straight it was unnatural, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Just David is fine, Ilya.” David replied, sending him what he hoped was a kind smile. Ilya just blinked up at him, as if he wasn’t sure if calling him by his first name was allowed. “Do you like pasta? We made that for dinner.”
“Pas…ta?” Ilya said, breaking up the word. His confusion seemed to snap Shane out of his nervous state.
“Look,” Shane said, and then, like it wasn’t a big deal, took Ilya’s hand in his and dragged him to the kitchen. The adults watched the ease of children, who didn’t share a language, finding a way of communicating like no barrier existed. “Dad, can you take the pot down to show Ilya?”
“Uh, sure, kid.” David said, following them over and taking the lid off the pot, carefully lowering it so the two boys could peer into it. Ilya made a pleased noise.
“Mama, eto spagetti!” Ilya said, looking over his shoulder with a wide grin.
“Ah, thank you - Ilya likes that.” Irina said as she handed Yuna her coat.
They ate before they handled Ilya’s paperwork for school; the boys had gone to play in the garden, some kind of game with sticks that may have started as hockey but could now be some kind of pirate game. Yuna was on paperwork duty with Irina, which left David to wash the dishes and watch them from the kitchen window. He had never seen Shane so relaxed and just being a kid.
He joined the ladies back at the table to top up their glasses of wine, and thankfully, Yuna seemed finished with the paperwork. Irina was looking a bit teary eyed; Yuna had mentioned she had issues with her husband, which is how she ended up in Canada. He was sure all of this had been too much for Irina, with such a young child and being in a foreign country, alone. Before he had a chance to speak and offer Irina more help, it seemed like once again his wife had read his mind.
“You know… you and Ilya are welcome over any time,” Yuna said slowly. “We can help, with learning English. And French, too, if you want.” Irina was shaking her head, and Yuna and David shared a worried look - maybe they had overstepped.
“You are angely,” Irina said suddenly, her voice choked. Although it was said in Russian, Yuna figured she had called them angels. “We are lucky to have met you.”
Yuna leaned over and covered Irina’s hand with hers. “My son was lucky to have met yours. Really, I’ve never seen Shane so taken with a friend before.”
Before the mood could turn too sombre, David cleared his throat. “A toast, to new beginnings.” David said, after he had topped up their wine glasses. The three parents quietly cheered, while their sons played loudly outside, oblivious to struggles around them, as they should be.