“Are you going to go inside or just sit there and stare at me?”
But you’re so cute.
“If Jae wakes up, tell him I’m getting him something too.”
I quickly made my way to the soda fountain, grabbing the biggest cup.Shit. Is this too big?I stared at the size of it, and shook my head, exchanging it for a smaller one. I filled it to the brim with ice and grabbed a couple handfuls of napkins. My hands were full before I made it to the register with drinks and a snack for Jae. I could see Shiloh through the window from where I was standing in line and tried not to stare.
She was mesmerizing. It was hard not to.
I paid and raced back to the car. I handed her the cup of ice and the napkins, shoving the bag of drinks into the backseat. The silence stretched between us comfortably, and I turned up the volume to a comfortable level. Jae was dead to the world in the backseat, and after a while, Shiloh removed the ice from her eyes, leaving them closed as she curled into herself and leaned against the car door.
“So, I think I remember your mom saying that your grandparents were going to be here tonight, right?”
I smiled at the topic and nodded.
“Yeah, they actually asked about you. Apparently, you made quite the impression as our almost second cousin,” I said, smirking over at her.
Shiloh blinked her eyes open to look at me.
“You’re totally bullshitting me right now,” she said with a shake of head.
“No, I’m not. I swear. They really did ask about you. My grandma wants to fatten you up with her pirozhki.”
“What’s that?” Shiloh asked curiously.
“Oh, sorry. Um, it’s like a little pie, but not like an apple pie…it’s more like a little handheld bun, I guess.” I chuckled to myself. “I’m sorry, I’m not doing it justice. They’re delicious though. The filling can be sweet or savory. Like meat or Baba’s specialty is filling them with cream cheese and cherries,” I explained.
“So…they’re Russian, right? Your grandparents.”
“Yeah. Exactly. They immigrated to The States when my dad was ten. My grandpa was a professor, a biomedical engineer, and he was fortunate enough to get a job here just before the USSR dissolved. They were actually supposed to move to Canada but his job their fell through and then he got an offer for Carnegie Mellon, and the rest was history.”
“So do you speak any Russian?”
“Other than a few key vocab words, the alphabet and counting to a hundred…no.But, I can understand a lot. I took a year in school and unfortunately gave up. It was just so difficult. Baba tried when we were little and still does try to speak to us in Russian occasionally, but it never stuck.”
“Does that make it hard to relate to your family’s culture?”
I hummed in thought, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. “Yes and no. I feel like, especially now that I’m older and can understand the significance of it, I’ve taken more of an interest in my dad’s upbringing and culture. And thankfully, my grandparents love sharing their culture with us grandkids. I want to be able to pass down these traditions and stories to my kids one day. I think it’s important to know where you came from and why your family does certain things.”
Shiloh nodded. “Did your dad not try to speak to you guys in Russian as children?”
“No,” I shook my head. “It was kind of taboo to speak Russian when he first moved here. I dunno, Americans were kind of, like, afraid of Russians. I think they still are, to be honest. At least of the country itself politically, but, um, we don’t need to get into that whole can of worms…Anyways, my dad kind of avoided anything to do with Russia. He didn’t want us to have to deal with anything that he went through as a kid in school. I mean, his name alone was already a big red flag that he wasn’t ‘American’ and so, no, he never spoke to us in Russian.”
“That makes sense. So, your names…they’re not Russian, I mean, your last name is, but your first names are Biblical, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I shook my head with a sigh. “I know, it’s a bit strange. With the three ‘E’ names and all. So much for not wanting us to be made fun of in school. But, um, that was both of my parents actually. They were both raised as Christian, my dad Eastern Orthodox and my mom Methodist. And yeah…”
I pursed my lips, looking over at Shiloh.
“Tell me to shut up if I’m boring you,” I laughed, flicking my gaze between her eyes and the road.
“No, no. You’re fine,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. “It’s not boring. It’s pretty cool that you’re interested in keeping your family’s history and culture alive.”
I scrunched up my face in disbelief, “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Seriously, you’re making a bigger deal than it is, shitbird. I happen to like getting to know more about you. And I really like your name. I think it’s cute that you’ve all got a name that starts with ‘E’. Enoch, Esther, Eden. It’s cute. Are you going to name your kids with ‘E’ names too?”
