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“I’m so proud of you, Nadia,” Janet said, getting up to give Nadia one more hug. “Let me know what you think, okay? I really hope it helps.”
Nadia squeezed her stepmom back. Her hair smelled like lavender, like it always did. The best. Instant comfort.
Home, Nadia thought. Sure, they were selling the house, but home would always be Janet.
“I will. I’m sure it will. Thank you again, so much.” Nadia pulled back. “The best name day I’ve ever had.”
“Now,” Bobbi interjected, stepping back into the room with a flourish. She had her rods in each hand, and balanced atop each one was a full plate, overflowing with food. Nadia recognized the smells—cabbage and onion and parsley galore. It seemed to Nadia that Jarvis had really embraced the spirit of her name day and gone for a full Russian meal.
Sure, Nadia was more partial to Ethiopian takeout these days, but it was the thought that counted.
“Spasibo za uzhin, Dedushka.” Nadia tucked VERA and her silver paper away to make room on her plate for dinner. “Let’s eat!”
And beneath the table, where no one could see it, amidst the paper and carefully designed packaging, a tiny, barely noticeable LED light on the corner of the device’s shiny surface blinked on.
* “Grandfather” in Russian, much less theoretical to Nadia now.
* If there were a S.H.I.E.L.D. list of Best Biceps, Bobbi would certainly be on that list. Along with Captain Marvel. And America Chavez. Nadia had a feeling that it’d be men who were relegated to the twenty-seventh spot for Best Biceps.
* Noted Best Biceps contender for a spot somewhere between twenty-seven and fifty.
* Janet’s term for Nadia’s superspecial jackets with holes in the back for her Wasp wings.
* Russian for “older sister,” a concept very familiar to Nadia.
Nadia had never been so full in her entire life. Maybe that one time she bought out that Portuguese bakery, but she’d shared most of those with the people waiting at the immigration office. It is a truth universally acknowledged that free baked goods in a busy waiting room have a tendency to become Beatles-level* crowd-pleasers.
Jarvis’s take on Russian food had been delicious—much better than Nadia was expecting! But then Nadia was always expecting the Red Room’s version of Russian cuisine. If you could call it cuisine, and Nadia certainly wouldn’t.
Nadia tried to like everything—but she wasn’t a masochist.
With food even better than she’d hoped, the conversation among the four of them had been full of laughter and teasing and theories and plans. It was everything Nadia’d never had when she was younger and everything she’d always wanted but didn’t know how to wish for. Between the food and her friends and her family, Nadia felt completely filled to the brim.
She shut the door behind Dedushka—always the last one to leave after he’d made sure absolutely everything was in order—waving him out as he tried to ask if she was positive there wasn’t anything else she needed. Nadia leaned her back against the door with a contented sigh, basking in the afterglow of being surrounded by the kindest people she’d ever known. How had she gotten so lucky?
An actual happy name day, Nadia thought. It was certainly a first. Who could ever have hoped?
Nadia closed her eyes and for a moment felt completely and totally free—the way she did when she was darting through the air
on a sunny day. Warm and bright; focused and clear. But in this moment, the sun was inside of her, not warming her from above. Her spirit felt as if it were floating, as free of the earth’s oppressive gravity as Nadia was on her wings. This was what love felt like, Nadia was pretty sure. To be loved and to love in return. She felt very, very lucky.
And then she opened her eyes and looked at the house and felt all the normal pressure resettle around her shoulders. Her day had been amazing, yes, but her to-do list ticked through her brain, ever-present:
Finish packing the house
Help Taina figure out why her robot caught fire
Finish pitch to Janet for taking G.I.R.L. statewide
Call driving teacher and schedule another lesson
Take meds
Finally, finally decide what to work on for Like Minds
Figure out a way to make the subway less smelly
And so on and so on and so on forever and ever—or so it felt. Nadia pushed back off the door and set her shoulders. She liked being busy. She liked having a purpose. And she was trying to change the world.
