“I don’t know if they wear the same ones here. I’ll have to check.”
“Do you need a number for a tailor?”
I burst out laughing, and he looked genuinely insulted. A tailor for school uniforms—God forbid. Whatever world Vitali lived in, it did not have children, and it was a nice reminder that he wasn’t the authority on everything to ever exist.
“I’ll manage,” I said as the giggles wore down, leaving only a smile behind. “They’re sold in department stores.”
He nodded and fiddled with his gloves, the rare awkward gesture reminding me that he wasn’t much older than I was—and neither of us was prepared.
“You don’t have to go…” I said quietly, even if I already knew what he would say. It wasn’t about the implied question, but about letting him know I wanted him there. That I wantedhim.
“I do,” he said. “I’ll call before I come over tomorrow. We can go see Mama. It’s a good hospital, and not too far.”
Another silence.
“Thank you, Vitali,” I said.
“Anything for you, Kotik.”
The name sent shivers down my spine. I would never hear itspoken in the way Vitali Konstantinov said it to me. Everything in me burned to make him feel the way it made me feel. The wayhemade me feel.
“One last thing,” he said, and pulled the beanie on. “You’re not going to drink anymore.”
I let out a sharp‘ha!’which awkwardly tapered into a laugh because his tone was serious, but he couldn’t be serious.
“I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t care how bad your head hurts. There is aspirin and coffee in the kitchen. If I think you’re drinking, you’ll forfeit the privilege of going to the store, and I’ll figure out what other privileges you lose from there. Now tell me.”
“Aspirin and coffee,” I muttered, appalled that I was complying, “and if I do, I can’t go to the store.”
“Good Kotik.” He took my face between his hands and kissed me on the forehead.
Then, the door shut behind him.
I slid all the locks in place, went to my room, and never bought a bottle of vodka for myself again.
18
Danger
Our first week at the apartment on Mira Street (I wouldn’t understand the irony of living on a street named after ‘peace’ until later) was a blur of errands and discovering what wedidn’thave, which in turn inspired more errands.
Vitali took Maxim and me to see Mama (he remembered to bring milk when he picked us up), and I got an earful of every complaint and objection she could think up, which was good because it meant she was feeling better. They told us she would be there for a couple weeks. Vitali was right, it was an excellent hospital. Still incredibly crowded with overworked staff and sorely lacking supplies, but they had new equipment and Mama said the nurses were attentive, which was more than we could hope for in these times.
Then, we were able to visit Maxim’s new school. The walk wasn’t long, and wouldn’t take him down any major streets—mostly across parks—so he could go alone once the weather improved. The Director gave us a brief tour, although we didn’tenter the classrooms since it was a Wednesday and classes were in session.
We went clothes shopping, got a new set of pots and pans, and had lunch at a gimmicky restaurant with a rooster holding a fork and knife for a mascot. Concerning, considering they served chicken. Maxim loved it, and I bitterly realized Vitali would almost certainly work it into our routine as a result.
Ourroutine.
Vitali, who hadn’t been in our lives for a month. Who I hadn’t even met half a year ago. Who so easily slipped into the very core of my family and my heart.
This was why it was only at night, when things got quiet, that I remembered the sounds of the machine guns and people screaming to the boomingTake Me Home Tonightacross the speakers. The darkness of those thoughts reached for me, and its hands were rough.
Otherwise, things were as perfect as I could have ever dreamt of.
And then, Vitali showed up at my door (his door, technically) with a gun.
“You’re going to learn how to shoot,” he told me unceremoniously. “Get a coat on. And gloves. The metal is cold, and you’ll need to concentrate on other things.”
