Rurik is downstairs in the kitchen, tearing into what looks like a turkey leg. "Hey, could you drive me to a nearby drugstore?" I ask. "Once you're done consuming… that?"
Magda hurries over, wiping her hands on her apron. "Is there something that I can get you Mrs. Morozova?" she asks. The entire staff switched flawlessly into addressing me as Mrs. Morozova the moment we returned home last night. Somebody sent advance notice. Or, maybe everyone already knew. Everyone but me.
"Oh, I'm fine," I say. "It's a good excuse to get out, stretch my legs and look around." She smiles as if she can't imagine a lady of the house wanting tostretchtheir legs, but she nods dubiously. Rurik has finished his turkey leg with impressive speed and is already putting the plate in the dishwasher by the time I turn around again.
"Look at you, tidying up after yourself!" I say approvingly.
"It is that or my wife will kill me with her cast-iron frying pan," he rumbles. It hits me then how little I know about the two men who are willing to give their lives for me.
"How long have you been married?" I ask, following him out the front door and to the car where Matvey is waiting.
"Eleven years,." He opens the door for me, checking our surroundings.
"You must've been so young," I say, putting my hand over my heart. "Were you childhood sweethearts?"
Matvey chuckles as he takes the wheel. "He frightened off all the girls in school after he picked up the headmaster and held him over his head."
"It was one time," grumbles Rurik.
"What about you, Matvey?" I ask.
His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. "I am single. Ican leave my dirty dishes scattered all over my apartment if I wish."
We spend the drive to the drugstore talking about children, nosy in-laws, and how to separate the Christmas holidays between the families. For a moment, it feels like I'm back in the cafeteria at the hospital, swapping stories with my coworkers. I've missed that more than I realized.
Rurik clears the area for me, an action that makes me feel like a pretentious asshole every time, and I hurry into the drugstore before he can clear the entire store of innocent shoppers. "Are you sure you wouldn't like me to pick something up for you?" he asks. "If you have any questions, I'm happy to ask them for you. I don't know if the clerks here speak English."
"Well, since you're a married man, I'll traumatize you and tell you that I'm getting feminine hygiene supplies," I say, watching him blush slightly. I didn't know Rurik was capable of a blush. This day is full of surprises.
"I will leave you to your shopping," he says, backing away a bit. "I will stay a few steps behind."
Maybe his wife has never made him do a late-night run for tampons and chocolate before. I find a brand that looks essentially close to what I buy at home and as I take it off the shelf, it makes me think. Have I ever used tampons while I've been staying with Dimitri? Even with my erratic periods, surely I should've…
I grab hold of the shelf, instantly lightheaded.
It was only the one time without a condom and he pulled out and I thought I was close to my period anyway and what kind of medical professional bases birth control on idiot assumptions likethat?
"Fuck me," I whisper, staring at the brightly colored boxes in front of me with pictures of smiling women holding pads, then I look back at Rurik. He's scanning the entrance and the sidewalk outside. I move down a few steps and grab a fistful of pregnancy tests, covering them in my basket with a large bag of what looks like the Russian version of peanut M&Ms. I'd originally asked if they could drive me to a nearby park or maybe an outdoormarket. Now, clutching my bag, all I can think about is getting the hell back and locking the master bathroom door.
***
"Youarea medical professional, right?" Priya's dying to laugh, I can hear it. "Were you depending on the rhythm method? Or was it pulling out?" I wince at that last one. "Do I need to remind you about how this works?" Oh, she's on a roll now. "When a man and a woman love each other very much…"
I'm slumped on the bathroom floor, staring at three little plastic sticks that determine my future, lined up neatly in front of me on the marble tile. "Did I mention that Dmitri's master bathroom has a fireplace in it?" I say. "Unsurprising since that was the primary source of heat when this building was originally built back in-"
"Take a breath," Priya says crisply. "Say the word."
I'm still staring at the pregnancy tests as I clear my throat. "Focus."
"Atta girl!" she says.
"Did you just say 'atta girl'?" I ask. "When has thatever come out of your mouth before?"
"Shut up," she snaps. "I'm trying to be supportive here." There's a short silence and then she says, not without sympathy, "You're going to have to tell Dmitri. Boy, that surprise wedding came at just the right time, huh?"
"Not yet." The words burst from me so quickly that I surprise myself. "I need a moment. I need to think about this."
"If your calculations about your irresponsible and unprotected sex are correct," she says dryly, "you're probably somewherearound three and a half to four months. Which means you're into the second trimester and it's time to make some decisions."
