Taing the Ris: Misha's Story

For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story.

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

John sat next to Misha as they drank their coffee in the Rockefeller Centre, watching the world go by.

"So you think there is something deep in her past that causes her to be so insecure? To use the drink and drugs as a coping mechanism?"

"Yeah. When we talk about her past she clams up about when she was young. I know she felt inferior to her peers at school due to her mother being a single mom and struggling to cope. We're going to visit her mom next week and I'm not sure whether to ask any questions or not."

"No, Misha don't. But have you considered this. Suzanne is fairly provocative with men. Even when you're around she flirts."

"I know. It's her way of re-affirming herself. I realise that and don't mind. So long as flirting is all she does."

"Mmm...Misha she relates to men and not really to woman. She gets her way with you by emotional blackmail, or by sexual means. The first time you met her she was having sex with you within the hour. Have you thought that maybe...and I do mean maybe, she learnt early on that men only want one thing from her?"

Misha looked at John, his blood draining out of his face. "I don't think so, I think it's more a matter of validating herself as she told me once that she was the proverbial ugly duckling, not really blossoming until she was eighteen, and then the boys paid her attention and for the first time she didn't feel like she was outside of the crowd."

"Well whatever the reason she needs professional help"

"It's the one thing she refuses."

*

He had enjoyed the drive down to see her mother. They had hired a car and taken four days to drive down, staying in motels and sightseeing. Suzanne was relaxed and the two of them marvelled at the beautiful scenery as they drove through Virginia and onto their final destination in South Carolina.

Misha watched as Suzanne took deep breaths at the top of a hill where they had stopped to admire the view. She looked so young and fresh, with no makeup on, and wearing a loose flowing top that fluttered in the breeze. Standing behind her, his arms around her, they stood in peace, her hair stuck on the stubble on his chin, ruffled as the slight wind caught it.

It was a moment in time he would always remember, one that settled in his heart, and in the future when he thought of her he would picture this moment and smile.

"So untouched, so unblemished." She observed, "Untouched by man, wild, clean and fresh."

She turned around in his arms, hers rising up to encircle his neck and kissed him.

"Thank you Misha."

"What for?"

"For putting up with me."

"Works both ways sweetheart."

Smiling at each other, their eyes locked, and the emotion they both felt passed between them.

"You know I love you sugar."

He whispered "I know," as his lips closed over hers, and the kiss, sweet and warm told her how he felt about her.

Lifting his face he told her "and I love you too."

*

Slouching back in his chair, he admitted defeat. "That was the best fried chicken and gravy I've ever had."

"You sure you won't have another piece?"

Raising his hands, palms out he gestured as he told her, "No thanks, I'm packed full. If I have another piece I'll pop."

Suzanne's mother laughed, she looked so much like a slightly older version of her daughter, just a little more care worn around the edges. The house was small but neat, with pictures of Suzanne everywhere. Pictures of her at every age, one of her playing at a toddler, her hair tied up in a ponytail, sitting on grass, some toys in her lap, smiling up at the camera. Another of an older Suzanne, glasses perched on her nose, her hair cut short, skinny and awkward looking, peering into the camera with a frown.

When they were looking at the picture earlier he had looked at her and said, "I didn't know you needed glasses?"

"I don't anymore. Thank God for laser treatment."

Her mother told him, "I saved up and gave it to Suzanne for her eighteenth birthday. She hated wearing the glasses." Putting her arm around her daughter's shoulder she kissed the side of her head and told her, "She was just as pretty with them as without them, but it's what she wanted."

"Mama you know what they say, men don't make passes at girls that wear glasses."

"They say some stupid things darling, if that was true then half the woman in the world would be single."

Misha stared down at the picture, understanding a little more about Suzanne.

Grabbing his hand and pulling she told him, "Come up and see my old room." and they walked up the stairs to a door at the back of the tiny hallway. "In here."

Small, so much so that with the two of them in it the room was almost full up. A single bed covered with a pink duvet and a couple of well loved stuffed toys rested lengthwise down one wall, and a small white dressing table, sat at the end of the room in front of the window, covered in creams and cosmetics. Misha stepped over to it and picking up a half used tube of foundation commented "Nothing different here. Just like at home, all your crap covering every surface."

Suzanne walked over next to him, "It's not crap sugar, its war paint."

"Is it a war? Is that how you see it? Men against women."

"War between the sexes," shaking her head, "No. More of a war against nature."

"Suzanne you're a beautiful woman. When are you going to believe it?"

"That's thanks to all the 'war paint' sugar, and the laser treatment."

Misha looked up at the posters on the wall, one of Marylyn Monroe posing in the Seven Year Itch, her white dress floating up around her legs, her breasts pushed forward in the halter top, and another of Bogart wearing his white tuxedo in Casablanca.

Dreams and fantasies. Not real life. Hollywood images that she had bought into.

Later, lying on the couch, where he was meant to be sleeping with a blanket thrown

over him he missed her. He found it difficult to get comfortable and he missed

Suzanne who was sleeping up in her small bedroom, the bed too small for both of

them, and the couch too short for his long body.

During the night she crept down, and woke him up snuggling down next to him so that they lay face to face squeezed onto the old uncomfortable sofa. Suzanne needed the comfort of arms around her to sleep, hands stroking her skin, breath teasing her neck.

Men's arms around her for comfort. Misha's arms.

*

A couple of months later Joanie walked in from the kitchen in hers and Robin's apartment and put the bowl of Chilli on the table, "Tuck in boys, grubs up."

"So Joanie, what am I? Invisible?"

"No Suzanne, just a turn of phrase, I change that then to tuck in boys and GIRLS, grubs up."

Sitting down she exchanged looks with her husband. She really didn't like Suzanne at all. The woman just downright annoyed her, but she bit her tongue, just like Rob had told her to do, hoping that Misha would soon get over her and break up. In the past eight months she had been a part of their group of friends, somehow always engineering it to be the centre of attention, sulking if she wasn't. Drinking hard and keeping up with the boys, Suzanne always seemed to be in competition with everyone. Everyone except Misha whom she seemed to adore, hanging off of him, draped around his body, smiling up at him and fussing around him, just as he did with her, the two of them very much a couple. His dark good looks and her effervescent blond sexuality made them a very charismatic and striking couple, but lately she had watched in the background as she saw her friend starting to change before her eyes, no longer the laid back carefree man she knew, but watchful and tense much of the time.

As they sat around the table John asked Misha if he was going over to LA for his mother's birthday next month.

"Yeah, the family are gathering together at Uncle Sasha's for a family Bar B Q, what about you guys, are you coming over?"

"I can't get time off from the bank, but you're going Rob aren't you?"

"Yeah, Joanie and I are going to take the opportunity to go up to Sacramento to see her family afterwards, but before that I've arranged for a night out with the guys for us at 'The Venue'."

"Sorry I'll miss that, last time we went there your cousin Teddy was going out with that girl, the one with the red short spiky hair and freckles."

"Yeah I remember her, she's the one that was a gymnast and he swore made his eyes water each time they did it."

"Do you remember that night, Vince Hockey was there and spilt his drink and Teddy put his hand in his pocket to bring out a handkerchief to wipe him down and out came a pair of woman's black underpants. Broke the group up, couldn't stop laughing. The pants still smelt faintly."

"Teddy's girl went bright red, as red as her hair. Almost one colour all over. Man that was one wild evening. Your cousin Andrei drank so much he threw up in the car park down the side of someone's car, never found out whose, and John went home with those two sisters."

John sat there smiling, the memory of the two sisters in his bed that night one that he treasured. "If you see them give them my love and tell them I still think of them on cold lonely nights."

Suzanne piped in, "Nothing to brag about, men not holding their drink!"

Joanie looked at her, her slim frame draped in an almost see through pale green top, the shadow of her nipples clearly visible, her nails painted a bright green, her jewellery around her neck heavy amber beads. "Misha's family can be a little conventional Suzanne, his Uncles see the women in the family in a traditional way, and they're hard working middle class men who like to drink hard but expect the women to stay sober."

Robin kicked her under the table, and Misha shook his head gently, trying not to let Suzanne see his small gesture at Joanie, but it was too late, she had lit the fuse in her, unwittingly picking on Suzanne's main insecurities.

"Well fuck me, maybe its time the men in his family met a real woman then. Us southern gals can drink you Californians under the table drink for drink, men included," Sitting forward, her eyes glaring at the other woman she continued, "and I don't need advice from you. I put up with people like you at high school, always looking down at me, thinking they were better in everyway, not inviting me to their 'special parties'. Well fuck you. Misha has asked me, and I'm going and if I want to drink as much as the men then I will."

In the ensuing silence there was embarrassed glances at Misha, but he was busy getting up, "Come on Suzy, I think you've had enough now, let's go home."

"Fuck off Misha. I've not had enough, never have enough." and picking up the glass of wine she drained it and reached for the bottle to pour herself another one. Taking the bottle out of her hand, Misha told her again. "Lets go home Suzy, enough is enough."

Standing up in front of his friends she pulled back her hand and hit him across the face, "You fucking bastard you're meant to stand up for me or are you embarrassed to be with me too."