I scoffed and jerked my thumb toward Tess. "No. I outsourced. I vas on cruise."
And it had been a glorious cruise, by the way. I'd meditated with llamas in Peru.
Yes, there were llamas. Yes, it was Peru. No further questions, please.
I waited a beat, savoring the moment.
Anna scrunched her face like she was solving algebra. Finally, I leaned in and whispered, "Don't think too hard. Tch. So vhat, I vent to Tess. She did a good job."
I grinned, stretching it out, all teeth. "I say to Tess, 'You find her. You make them fall in love. Quietly. No one interferes. I trust you.'"
And I had. Dvochka had taken my strategy and stuck the landing like a Soviet gymnast. Perfect.
"What does she have on you?" Anna asked Tess.
"No one needs to know that," I assured.
Morty laughed again. He knows these things.
Then I turned toward the married couple and clapped once, sharp. The couple was sealing the deal again with their good skin and strong bones. Good. I liked it when the people I meddled with became attractive together. It validated.
Anna was pacing beside me now. "Tess really knew this was a setup. She was in on it?"
"It vas not setup. It vas matchmaking espionage. Sophisticated. Romantic."
"Babushka," Anna said, deadpan.
I held up two fingers like I was swearing in at a trial and declared, "Vorth it. Now I vill die happy."
"But you're not really going to die, right?" Tess asked, one hand hovering as if she might have to catch me mid-faint.
"Vhen you love like I have in this life, you never really die, do you now?" I said, full of mystery and legacy. The type of line one should engrave on a bench or a vodka bottle.
Tess was undeterred. "But seriously, you're healthy?"
"That's vhat I say. I never die. You don't listen," I said with a pfft.
Anna leaned over, reassuring. "She's fine."
"Healthy as a strong Russian horse," I promised, flexing slightly. "Like Piper and Artyom."
Artyom had been the family's horse when I was young. He who kicked fences and lived mostly on fermented beets.
Inspiration came in all forms.
The kids who got married laughed.
Anna and Tess looked at me now with new respect and borderline fear.
Good.
For decades, I had played quiet.
A little mysterious. Always there.
Who was Babushka? Just the old lady knitting strange patterns that strangely resembled people's worst secrets?
I listened. I waited. I catalogued. Everyone came to me eventually, even the ones who thought they were too modern for tradition.
