I Will Remember You

I Need a Miracle

“Excuse me, miss?” I snapped out of my thoughts as I turned my head to stare at the elderly woman who was tapping my shoulder gently and her husband. I shook my head, trying to focus on my job rather than what was going on in my life before I answered.

“Yes, I’m sorry, ma’am, may I show you to your seats?” I quickly recovered, flashing the polite smile that had won me my current job in the first place.

“That would be lovely, thank you, dear,” she replied, smiling warmly at me as I offered her my arm and took the ticket from her hand.

Perhaps I should take a moment to explain some things. My name is Raya Vera Markov, but most people just call me Rae. I am a 17 (and a half!) year old trying to earn enough money to put myself through a few semesters of college. I live with my aunt and uncle in the heart of the city of Pittsburgh with their two sons and one daughter. I work as an usher at Mellon Arena.

“Thank you, miss,” the old man said, smiling at me as he and his wife took their seats.

“My pleasure,” I replied politely before returning to my post near the opening between sections. This job was the only perk I had accepted from my guardians. My uncle was one of the managers or something of the building. I don’t know his exact title, but he’s pretty high up there in terms of status.

After helping a few more people to their seats, I made my way through the aisles to find the two people I was looking for. I tapped the woman on the shoulder and asked in Russian, “ Госпожа Молкин, является там чем - нибудь, что я могу добраться для Вас перед запусками игры?” (Mrs. Malkin, is there anything I can get for you before the game starts?)

“Нет, не сегодня вечером мисс Марков,” she replied. “Спасибо, хотя,” she smiled at me and turned around to await the start of the game. I nodded my head and returned to my spot. (No, not tonight, Miss Markov. Thank you, though.)

Since starting my job one year and two months ago, I had taken to talking to the Malkins. Well, Vladimir and Natalia, not Evgeni. First, because they always sat with the fans and I liked them for that. Second, because when I first started working at Mellon Arena they looked uncomfortable. I was new at the job and tried to please everyone, so of course they were the first people I tried to help.

I remembered asking them if everything was okay and if there was anything I could get for them. Vladimir replied in very broken English, “No understand English.” I recognized his accent and asked the same question in Russian. Surprise was evident on both of their faces while they excitedly jabbered away in fluent Russian. I quickly explained the best I could that I spoke little Russian and they slowed down for me. And that was the start of our relationship. I looked for them constantly at every game, but was usually disappointed. I did keep practicing my Russian more and more, though, just in case.

Before you all get your pennies in a bunch, let me just explain that I am Russian, if you couldn’t tell from my name. Both of my parents grew up there and moved to the United States before I was born. My father taught me Russian but, due to certain events, I stopped speaking the language.

When the game started, I slowly made my way to my uncle’s box to watch, my shift having ended. Normally, I just went home, but I felt like watching this game. Like I said before, I don’t enjoy having all these wonderful things just handed to me, but my uncle always left a box open for me and whoever I chose to invite. I knew he was just trying to make my whole ordeal easier on me, and I gave him props for trying, but losing someone is never easy, no matter how much money you have.

As I took a seat in the luxury suite, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse to send a text message to my boyfriend of one year and twenty two days to let him know I was going to be watching some of the game. He replied with a, “whatever, have fun babe :)” and I smiled. Ross was the best thing that had happened to me in the past two years of my life. He works part time at a coffee shop and is attending Dusquesne University to get a degree in music. I couldn’t see myself with anyone else for the rest of my life.

After watching just a minute of the game, it reminded me of why I loved hockey to begin with. My father and I would always watch whatever game was on TV, so I never had a favorite team. My favorite player was, and still is, Mario Lemeuix, though. I don’t think anyone will ever compete with what he did in his career. But the intensity and excitement that fills you when you watch hockey, there’s no other feeling like it in the world. I can only imagine what actually playing would be like.

The more I watched, the more it reminded me of my father. Before too long, I couldn’t take it anymore and the sadness I fought every night I worked overwhelmed me, except now I had no one to turn to since Ross was no where in sight. He was the only person that I could depend on to get me through the rough days. I fumbled with my phone as I quickly gathered up my things to leave. As soon as I was outside of the door of the suite, I slammed it shut and collapsed to the ground.

“Ross,” I croaked as I fought to contain a sob.

“I’ll be right there, babe,” he replied quickly before I heard a click.

That was another thing I loved about Ross; he knew me better than anyone else. He could tell from just one word that I needed him and he came, like a knight in shining armor, to rescue me. He never asked unnecessary questions either, which was just one more reason why I loved him so much.

Not even five minutes later, I was safely sitting in Ross’s new Lexus. His father had given it to him as an early Christmas present. Ross came from an extremely wealthy family, but you would never guess it if you took one look at him. His hair was always messy and unkempt and there were always bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days. His clothes were usually plain and more often than not were wrinkled and he always wore a beat up old leather jacket that his grandfather gave him before he passed away. My aunt and uncle thought he looked ‘trashy’ but I thought he looked sexy.

“Where am I taking you?” he asked as we drove away from the arena. I took in his unhappy appearance and began to wonder what had him upset. He was usually such an easy going person.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, ignoring his question. He pursed his lips and stared straight ahead. “And just take me home,” I sighed. His fists clenched on the steering wheel. “Ross,” I said firmly, catching his attention.

“Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry about it,” he replied, his eyes snapping back to the road. I sighed and looked out my window. He had been acting like this lately and I had no idea why. I felt like it had something to do with me, but he had reassured me several times it didn’t.

“I probably shouldn’t come in,” he said when we arrived at my hotel, still in the same flat tone he had been using the past three weeks. I simply nodded my head and made a move to get out of the car. “Wait,” he said quickly, getting out of the car in the process. A few seconds later he had my door open and was holding out his hand. I took it and allowed him to help me out of the vehicle.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to smile. He smiled back and pulled me in for a hug. I kissed his cheek and we broke apart. “Call me later or something,” I said as I began to walk into the lobby.

“I will,” he answered as he got back into his car. In another second, he was pulling away. I sighed and turned around. Normally I would invite him in, but I had recently fought with my aunt and uncle and didn’t think it best. They didn’t approve of our relationship since he was nearing twenty four.

Somehow I found my way to my aunt and uncle’s penthouse and into my room. I laid on my bed for awhile before dragging out my computer. I pulled up my journal and began to write about all of my problems, from school to work to my family to my parents to Ross. Everything that was bothering me. And when I was done, I said a silent prayer to God. Please, oh please, send me a miracle to help me get through all of this.