Standing in RIX my sixth trip to Latvīja, I was waiting. In Rīga, sadly I am used to waiting. For the several weeks I have lived in Rīga I am sure that I spent the vast majority of my time alone. It is kind of soothing in a way. Soothing is how I know Rīga, but it is not always how I think of it. In August, the weather is not yet winter, but summer is far from memory. The trees were still green and they went well with the maroon and white flags in the circle by the airport entrance.
Natasha did not understand why I would spend the money to stay in a hotel. She does not understand why a “normal” flat is so unappealing to me. It is difficult to explain to her anyway. Why bother making her feel bad. Maybe twice or three times did she ever even meet me at my hotel room. As a matter of fact when I look back on the whole time we spent together, more of it is spent alone wringing my hands with angst wondering when she would arrive.
She did know how to make a cup of coffee. I despise the stuff, but she knew how to mix just the right amount of thickened cream and four spoons of sugar. I am not sure when she orders ribs and green onions. She never eats the green onions, because she says “They make my breath smell bad” lighting another Winston cigarette. Natasha has taught me that coffee must make everything taste better after it is mixed with nicotine.
We ate together many times. Normally her only requirement when selecting a restaurant was “I want meat.” She ate many things I know, but usually the meals revolved around meat. She did eat an omelet once in Jurmala. It was cold that day and we were on the beach there. Usually, we ate at bistros. Sometimes we ate in different kinds of places. Usually we sat and drank coffee that is what you do in Latvīja. I do not think that I ever saw her eat any vegetables, except mushrooms and olives. She loved olives. Every time we could get an extra helping of olives and would eat all of them first.
On my birthday, we had dinner at the Lido, and then off to the “Melnais Kakis.” She and I had three or four cups of her coffee. Not really coffee, but Natasha’s Rīga mix. After a few cups of coffee, she said the worst thing I ever heard. Looking me dead in the eye, she said that she loved me like people not as a man. At the time, I let it go, what else was there to do. Things like that are better left drop.
Later, after I my lovely birthday present, she said she wanted to show me something that is relaxing. We rode across town in Ginta’s Mazda. Dancing is my favorite activity followed closely by gambling. She knew of a special place to go where she likes to go and relax. We parked in the back near the garbage cans. I thought it was a difficult place to park for someone just relearning to drive.
We walked into the casino, and then across to a table in the middle of the room where we could see the board. At first, I guessed her to be a high-rolling poker player or a crap shooter straight out of Vegas. One Lat per sheet and the next thing I knew, she was working hard at explaining the numbers to me. I guess growing up as a Russian in Latvīja had hurt her feelings. She was doing her best to be happy inside, even though it was clear that she was falling apart. Buyer’s remorse I guess, she knew that what she had said was the end, but there were pangs of guilt. We were having a great time and she did not want it to end anymore than I did. We must have spent fifty Lats on bingo pages, but we did not win a single time. Sitting there with her was fun. Honestly it was fun, and nothing will take that away from me.
After a few hours of “talking”, she knew she had to work the next day. I almost felt like I was turning into pumpkin. The last thing I remember was the 25 point turn as she tried to get the car out of the parking lot. Actually, the last thing was her kissing me on the cheek when she did not get out of the car when I left that Monday. That day was the beginning of the end of things.
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