Elina

Should’ve called in sick. Almost did: haven’t had a lazy day of blanket forts and Hungry Hungry Hippos with Joey since...shit; the leaves were still green, my last full day off. He’s been whiny the last few mornings, not wanting to let me go. Hate having to choose between giving him Christmas or giving him every other day of the year.

Can’t even ask which he’d prefer. Can’t let him live in a world where he knows it’s one or the other.

At least Mama still had my old bike, rusted all to hell and with two flat tires, but...fixable. Not sure I’ll pass it off as new, but I might manage shiny. Pretty close to the right size too. All I need are the training wheels, and that’s the big present taken care of.

The bell dings behind me: order’s up.

Not sure what Vanya’s doing back there, but the level of steam pouring out of the kitchen is out of control. A person could suffocate in that. Worse still, I’m hot and clammy all over, hair wilted flat to my head, damp clothes sticking to my skin. And I smell like a giant cabbage. Won’t even have time to stop home before class; I’ll be stinking up Intro to Digital Integrated Circuits Design like nobody’s business. Everyone’s going to hate me.

And someone’s snuck into my section, right at the back, cozied up in a booth that’s supposed to fit four people. I’m in the weeds; Katya’s barely breaking a sweat—who thought I needed another table?

At least he seems to know what he wants. His menu’s still face-down on the table. Dodging a busboy with a tray of dirty plates, I make my way over.

“Dobryy d—oh!”

It’s him, it’s Nick, from two nights ago. Bad, not good, so not good! He must’ve followed me, and how weird is—

“Hey, there.”

Nope. No way. Shutting this down. I stick out my chin and cross my arms across my chest. “What do you want?”

He gives me a smile he probably thinks is disarming. “Ah...borscht?”

Ugh. “It’s borshch. And you can’t have it. The soup of the day’s kislye shchi.”

“You’ve got me at rather a—“

“It’s sour cabbage. Want it?” He can flash me that butter-wouldn’t-melt smile all he wants. This shit is stalking. How’d he even—

He’s holding up my coat.

Oh.

Egg on my face. But a little on his face, too: who just shows up?

“Sorry,” he says. “I know this looks strange. But I figured you might need this, and the address was in your pocket....”

Right. Okay. Still.... “You could’ve called.” Too harsh? He is kinda doing me a favor. “You’re...kind of lacking elbow awareness right now.”

He holds up his hands. His eyes are twinkling, like he’s holding back a laugh. “To be fair, I did try calling. Some angry guy slammed the phone down so hard my ear’s still ringing. Guess you didn’t get the message?”

That...does sound like Vanya. Fine. This might not be totally creepy. “You should have the pelmeni.” I try a conciliatory smile. “It’s basically ravioli. Really popular.”

“Sit with me. Just for a second.”

So, this guy was never a waiter. “I’ve got six other tables.”

“Meet me after, then. When’d you get off?”

“Four, but I’ve class right after.” I glance over my shoulder. No-one’s trying to get my attention yet. “Look, I’m not blowing you off. It’s just, y’know, lunch rush, and... You really caught me by surprise. I have kind of a history with guys showing up unannounced.”

“Yeah, I might not have thought this all the way through.” He at least has the grace to look sheepish. “What about tomorrow? I’ll come to you. Wherever you want.”

Tomorrow—Joey’s got a checkup in the morning, and I need to get to the bank at some point, but.... “The Aquatic House at the Botanic Garden. I can be there at one.”

Nick breaks out in a genuine smile. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to check that out. Orchids, right?”

“Water lilies too.”

“It’s a date.” He ventures a wink. I’m not sure whether to be charmed or irritated. His confidence certainly appealed to me in the back of his car. And I can’t say he seems threatening.

“A date, then.” I finally take my coat. “Thanks for bringing this back. I looked pretty stupid rocking three cardigans on the bus this morning.”

“Hey, I have it from a reliable source that women’s clothing is all about layering.”

“Yeah....” My look of disapproval’s somehow twisted itself into a grin. “I’ll be back with your lunch.”

I catch myself wiggling my ass just a little, as I walk away.

The rest of the day drags like nobody’s business: having something to look forward to makes it worse, not better. I keep spacing out, having to write down orders I’ve taken a million times before. Vanya yells at me twice. Threatens to report my woolgathering to my mother. She had to go and marry him.

Class is no better: all I can think about is whether Nick meant a date-date, or if it’ll end up being the “So...that was a horrible mistake” conversation.

It wasn’t... Was it?

Nick could’ve let me down easy right there in the dining room, returned my coat and walked out of my life. He wouldn’t have to see me again if there weren’t...more.

I think I want there to be more.

I’m still mulling over the possibilities when I stumble home after sunset. Joey’s already in his PJs, and the babysitter’s crashed out on the stack of cushions where our couch used to be. I’ve already paid her and sent her on her way when I notice the thermostat’s cranked to seventy-two. What is this, a sauna? I’ll have to talk to her about that.

“Joey, honey?”

“Yeah, Mommy?”

“Have a good time with Maria?”

“We made hand turkeys and watched TV on her phone.”

Not sure I like the sound of that. “What’d you watch?”

“Difficult People.”

Are you kidding me?

“It was boring.” Joey starts going through my purse. Doesn’t take him long to find the Junior Mints I left him. “Can I have these?”

“Yes—but next time Maria wants to watch TV, you find something else to do, okay?”

“Yeah...can I get a 3DS?”

At, what, $200 a pop? Ha, ha...ugh. “Those things are bad for your eyes. How about...a coloring book?”

“No....”

“One of those piano things like Emin’s got?”

“Yeah!” He mimes banging on a keyboard...with a fair bit of force. Maybe not the quietest idea. Hopefully, he’ll forget I offered.

“Okay—Mommy’ll see what she can do. Don’t eat all those mints before bed.”

“How many can I eat?”

“Five. You can have the rest tomorrow, after you’ve been a good boy for the doctor.”

I stretch out on the warm spot Maria left on the cushions. Feels great to get off my feet. Joey climbs all over me and feeds me a Junior Mint. Wish I had that kind of energy.

I find myself drifting in and out of sleep. Joey’s heavy in my arms. Someone’s playing country music a floor below us. It’s still too warm. I feel like a lizard on a rock, sleepy and sunlogged. When I come to my senses, Joey’s dribbled chocolate goo down the front of my Griboyedov Café uniform.

Add laundry to my to-do list.

I manage to get Joey’s teeth brushed and tuck him into bed without waking him up all the way. He barely manages a sleepy “’Night, Mommy,” when I turn off the light.

I’d like to hit the sack myself, but I spend the next hour and a half on the fire escape with a toothbrush and a bottle of white wine vinegar, scrubbing the rust off Joey’s bike. Most of the original paintjob comes with it. I pack it in when my fingers are too numb to hold the brush. Few more nights of this, I’ll be ready to paint. Then, I just need to keep Joey from peeking out the window till Christmas.

I’m just congratulating myself when I see it: a tiny orange light on the stove.

Fuck. Holy shitting motherhumping fuckfuckfuck.

The lower right element’s on—barely on, like I must’ve spun it just shy of the click—but on nonetheless.

No wonder it’s so hot in here. How long...when’d I last...? This morning? Last night? How’s the place still standing?

I creep up like the hot element’s going to jump up and burn me. The snap of it finally switching off seems impossibly loud: how did I not notice its absence?

I sink to the floor and sit with my head in my hands, listening to the ticks and creaks of the cooling element. This is what happens when I get distracted. This is what happens when I let myself drift, even for a second. Joey doesn’t have anyone else. I can’t be...can’t be—

“Gotta do better.”

I spend the time I’d meant to spend studying going over the kitchen, the bathroom, the child locks, looking for anything out of place, anything that could be a problem. I find a loose nail under the sink, a carton of expired milk in the fridge, and half a bottle of antifreeze I don’t remember buying. It’s on a high shelf, but I toss it anyway.

I go to bed feeling like shit. No, worse: like a terrible mother.

I’m standing Nick up tomorrow. He’s one more luxury I can’t afford.