"It is a sign, my mundane one," she says cryptically, and you notice she doesn't seem particularly thrilled about it.
"A sign of...what exactly?" you ask, almost dreading to hear what it foretells, exactly.
Ivana gets up, pouring herself another glass of wine, and much to your relief, simply brings the bottle of brandy over, leaving it on the table in front of you.
"That you are my final mate," she says, gulping down her wine, pouring another glass.
"Come again?" you say, nearly choking on your brandy.
"I last saw Rasputin shortly before Vietnam. He'd come to America, seeking a new life, finally realizing that the old country held danger for him at almost every turn, even in the modern age. He and I still held a deep love for one another, but times had changed, and we had as well. For better or worse, we'd grown apart," her eyes held a faraway look as she reminisced upon this time of her life, now a bittersweet memory.
"We tried to rekindle our love affair, but no matter how much I tried, my heart was tied to another as well, and conflicted, I could not commit to him. Eventually, he felt it best to leave me, so I could be faithful to the one I was with. I sobbed, I cried...I begged him not to leave me. He was the one person in the world who could share my memories and my sorrows, my joys and my triumphs. I told him I didn't know how I could continue once he had left," tears glistened in her eyes, and her voice quivers slightly. You reach out reflexively, taking her hand, wanting to comfort her.
"He told me that one day, there would come a man who would give me the happiness I had lost. He told me that I would feel a quickening in my heart when we kissed, and that he would feel it as well. He told me that this man would be my final mate, that I could truly love him with all of myself, that I would have to hide nothing from him, for there would never be another who would replace him..." she trails off, looking at you, staring deeply into your eyes as though she's trying to see into your very soul.
You meet her gaze, unwavering, wishing for her to see truly into your heart. You mean her no harm, this wonderful mystery woman. It doesn't feel strange at all, hearing her proclamation that you may be her last mate, the unspoken love in her voice. You have always been afraid of commitment, but you're not now. You never were into older women, but this one, this Ivana...you find yourself enthralled by her...as though it's destiny.
The timer on the oven goes off, startling you both out of this mystical staring contest you'd been having. "Well," she says, sounding still a bit flustered, "Dinner is served."