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"Stand straighter!" Isabella snaps. Harper pulls her shoulders back, and Polina does the same. "Hold your core in. You want to make sure you are in control." The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the patio outside my mother's home, where a group of women is gathered, their faces filled with determination and resilience.
"What's going on here?" I ask.
"I told you," Isabella says, standing on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek as I approach her. "These women need self-defense lessons. I’m the perfect girl for the job."
She looks like a Colombian goddess, dressed in skin-tight clothes and her hair twisted elegantly at her neck. She exudes confidence and strength, skills she’s passing on to the women in my family.
"All right, ladies," Isabella says, her voice carrying authority. In front of her stand Polina, dressed in workout clothes—shorts and a tank top—Alexsandr’s Harper, Aria, and, to my surprise, my mother. She looks younger with her hair twisted on the top of her head. I've never seen her in yoga pants and a sweatshirt before.
“From what I've heard, there are going to be more threats to this family," my mother says fiercely. "I'm going to be ready to defend whoever I need to. Including you," she says. Ekaterina Romanova does not suffer fools.
I can’t help but tease her. I thrust my hands in my pockets. “So you don’t trust us to protect you?
"You can’t even protect yourself, buddy," Harper says, giving her a wink. When it comes to shooting someone, she's not wrong. That woman could shoot an apple off the top of the Empire State Building… from here.
"You can protect me, mi querido jefe,” Isabella says in a patronizing voice. She’s going to get her ass smacked for that later. I wink at her, and she blushes. I stifle a grin.
"All right, ladies," Isabella says with authority and confidence, turning back to face them. "Today, you're going to learn some basic self-defense techniques. These skills can help protect you in dangerous situations."
Harper bounces on the balls of her feet, her fingers twitching as if she'd rather have a gun in her hands than air.
Isabella stands straight. "I'm going to demonstrate the first move, a very simple but effective wrist escape. If someone grabs your wrist, aim your arm toward their thumb," she says, gesturing to me. "Can you come here and help me baby, please? I want you to grab my wrist."
"Like this?" I walk to her and watch her closely. "All right. I just don't want you to hurt me." I wink at her. If she hurts me, she's going to get it later, and she knows it.
“You got this,” she says.
I grab her wrist, and she executes the move smoothly, freeing her wrist from my grip. The other women mimic her actions, some a little more effectively than others. Isabella moves among them, offering corrections and encouragement. "Good job, Aria. Keep your elbow close to your body. Polina, try to twist your wrist with more force."
She comes up to Harper. "Wrists out. Good. Now twist." Harper follows her instructions, and her wrist slips free. She looks up at Isabella, a look of shock on her face. "Wow. That actually works!"
Isabella grins at her. "See? I knew you could do it."
I take a step back and watch from the background as they move on to learning how to break a chokehold. Isabella explains and shows the technique and, thankfully, doesn't ask me to demonstrate this time.
I’d like to choke her out in a good way in the privacy of our bedroom, not in front of my mother, thank you very much. "Aim for the eyes, throat, or groin—the sensitive areas that can give you a chance to escape."
The women practice with renewed confidence, and the patio buzzes with their laughter, comments, and Isabella’s sharp directives.
My wife. She belongs here in this crowd of women, and she seems to feel the same way I do—the camaraderie, the power. Finally, she calls for a break.
She leans against my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her waist. "They need to know they can defend themselves. It's important."
"Don't you girls trust us to take care of you?" I'm teasing her. I know she wants to be able to protect herself, and I feel a hell of a lot better knowing that she can.
"Of course," she says. "But did you forget that jellyfish sting?”
"Jellyfish?” I scoff. “I want to see your brother in a shallow grave. What about you? Are you ready to defend yourself when the time comes?" I ask her.
She meets my gaze and nods. "I am. And I'm ready to defend our family, too."
Our family.
It's the first time she's used that phrase with me. I lean forward and kiss her forehead. "I know you are."
She follows me inside. "What are you doing?"
"I have to meet with Kolya. You stay here, and I'll catch up with you for dinner. Sound good? We can check out that Indian place you wanted to try."
