“What do you want? And, congratulations, I suppose.”
I’ve had other priorities other than making sure I’m kissing the right asses within the Bratva lately. I probably should have sent a congratulatory Rolex. Or, more appropriately for Zakharov, a custom Kalashnikov.
He just grunts in response to my congratulations. “Welcome to the Council, Artyom. You kept us waiting for a while.”
The call ends. He’s never been a man of many words.
43
NINA
There is a special irony in applying for a substance abuse fellowship when my husband is profiting from half of the city’s drug trade.
When I’ve done the paperwork — which has to be filed a year and a half in advance of when my fellowship would actually begin — I finally feel like I deserve the celebration Art has planned.
Recovering from a skull fracture and concussion has forced me to slow down. To a literal snail’s pace. It’s thrown off the entire schedule of my residency. I am determined to get it done, but when my reaction times are this slow and bright lights hurt this much, Middlefield is not the right place to be.
The upside is getting to spend more time with my family.
“I’m pretty sure you’ll get it,” Art says with a kiss on my temple when I press the submit button on my application.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re not going to interfere with it, even if I don’t. Right?”
He holds his hands up, his lips quirking into a smile. “I would never dream of pulling strings to help my wife.”
“Bullshit,” I reply, but I can’t help the smile that creeps over my face at the reminder of what Art will do for me.
He’s packed the bags and organized everything for our first official family outing. This might be the first time that we’ve had a normal family day.
If you can call a helicopter ride out of the city, followed by a picnic on top of a mountain a normal family day.
We had to make Ava promise she wouldn’t touch the buttons at the front of helicopter. As we climb in through the door she looks like she might combust, but she keeps her hands to herself.
Even in the back, she could hardly sit still in the helicopter, looking out the window with her face pressed right against the glass, her eyes so wide it was like they were about to burst out of her head.
“Do we live there, Mommy?” she asked, pointing at the city when it was shrinking away into the horizon.
“That’s right, sweetie. Somewhere in there.”
“Where?”
Art pointed out the tallest building from this angle. “That’s our house.”
“Hi Babushka!” Ava waved at the skyscraper on the horizon as though Vanya was going to be able to see her from there. “It looks different.”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Everything looks different whenyou’re in a helicopter.”
The helicopter lands in a perfect clearing. There’s not another person around, just miles and miles of untouched pine forest and wildlife. It’s quiet and perfect and miles away from the stress of the city.
Even without work, being a part of the Petrovs feels like a full-time job. With Art taking over from Vanya, we have to maintain personal relationships with every important person in the Bratva. He’s been a sweetheart, considering how tired I feel during my recovery, but being sucked into the whirlwind of his life is a whole new occupation.
I’m still getting used to the wardrobe required, let alone the different Russian foods involved. I’m genuinely considering making a flashcard set to keep up with all the people, traditions and foods I’m encountering.I never thought proper salad-fork etiquette would come up as a problem in my life, but here we are.
After our day-trip into the mountains, we have a family dinner to attend. I sit at the other end of the table from Vanya, who I’m still refusing to speak to. She’s been weirdly proud of me, as if she didn’t almost get me killed, and it gives me the heebie-jeebies. I still need time to process the way that she casually had me kidnapped in order to prove a point.
In the meantime, I sit down at the kid’s end of the table with Ava and her cousins.
The conversation is way more exciting, anyway. Tonight I’ve managed to drag Art down here as well, where we are both being roped into an elaborate game involving trolls. Ava insisted onwearing her pink fairy wings to dinner, so she’s already dressed for the part.
