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“Mommy.” Josh’s voice is small. He’s nervous.
I turn to find him extending his arms to me, so I take him from Lev.
Gleb looks at Josh, and Josh looks back at him. Josh’s hair is a shade darker than Lev’s, and I wonder if that’s from Gleb’s side.
“He has it too,” I say, and Gleb looks back to me, eyebrows raised. “The birthmark.”
Gleb smiles, then looks at Josh’s pretzel. “What is that? Are you hungry, boy?”
“Josh. His name is Josh.”
“Are you hungry, Josh?”
Josh buries his face in my neck.
“Sit down,” Gleb says and calls someone over.
I sit with Josh on my lap, and Gleb’s eyes go from me to Josh and back like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.
“What do you want to eat?” he asks Josh. “They’ll make you anything you want.”
Josh looks at me.
“No marshmallow pancakes,” I tell him with a wink.
He smiles and turns to Gleb. “Chicken nuggets.”
“Chicken nuggets.” Gleb shakes his head. “Get the boy some chicken nuggets and put something green next to them.”
“He won’t eat green,” I interrupt. “Carrots maybe?”
“Carrots. Put some carrots next to them. What about a drink, Josh?” It’s like he’s trying out the name.
“Coke,” Josh says.
“You’re pushing it,” I say.
He looks from me to Gleb and adds a, “Please.”
Gleb grins and nods. “Polite. Very good. A Coke for the boy. And bring my vodka. Are you hungry, Katerina?”
“Um, no thanks.”
He nods to dismiss the man who disappears then reappears a moment later with a bottle of vodka. I have never heard of this brand, but I gather from the decorative bottle it’s a fairly exclusive one. Gleb pours for Lev and me without asking if we want it, but honestly, I could use it.
We sit in awkward silence while Gleb watches me, drinking three times the vodka I manage to.
When the chicken nuggets come, Lev takes Josh to sit on his lap, and Josh starts to eat.
Gleb watches him for a long minute. “He’s yours?” he asks Lev.
“Yes.”
Gleb nods, then turns to me.
“She named you after my sister,” he finally says. “They were good friends.”
“They were?” I suddenly feel so sad. I know nothing about my mother. Not one thing
“She died young too. Cancer. One year before your mother…was forced to leave.” His voice hardens at the end, and he pours himself another vodka, his grip hard on the bottle.
“I don’t know anything about her. I don’t remember anything.”
“I’ll tell you. Don’t worry. But we need to discuss other things first. You’ll stay at my home with the boy—”
“No. They stay with me, and we stay where we are,” Lev says, his voice authoritative and uncompromising. He reaches under the table to take my hand.
Gleb looks irritated by this, and I get the feeling not many people tell him no. He turns to me.
“I don’t know you,” I start before he can say anything. “Josh has had enough upheaval in his life this past week. I can’t change one more thing.”
He considers my words and then nods. “For the time being.” He touches my hair. “You changed your hair. It’s the same color as Ciara’s?”
I nod.
“For that bastard Vasily, you did it?”
I snap my gaze to Josh.
“Sorry, sorry,” Gleb says, waving off his words and drinking more of his vodka. “You need protection. The hotel—”
“Lev protects us. We’re fine.”
Gleb looks at Lev with a raised eyebrow. Josh finishes his last chicken nugget and picks up his Coke. It looks out of place here, the plastic sippy cup with its brightly colored cartoon characters on it and the bright yellow straw. He slurps the last of his soda and puts down his cup.
“You like to play games, Josh?” Gleb asks.
Josh nods, feeling more relaxed after being fed exactly what he wanted, I guess.
“Dima,” Gleb calls. A man comes over. “Take Josh to play one of those games.”
I look at where he’s pointing at some machines that seem to be a throwback from the 90s.
“Looks like they have Pac-Man,” Lev says to Josh who doesn’t know what Pac-Man is.
“Want to play?” I ask Josh.
“With you.” He casts a still unsure glance at Gleb.
“I’ll be right here. You can see me the whole time, and I can see you, okay?”
He nods, but I see it takes him a minute to slip his hand in Dima’s even though Dima is attempting a smile. I wonder if I should tell him it’s better if he doesn’t.
“He’ll be fine,” Gleb says.
Lev and I both turn back to him. He leans toward me and pushes my hair back from my face. He’s closer than I expect, and it takes a moment for me to remember not to pull back. He runs his thumb over the healing yellowing bruise.
“Andrei Stanislov did this? Laid a hand on you? That bastard, Vasily, knew she was pregnant and put a hit on her. He knew I had a child, and he didn’t tell me.” He shakes his head as if in regret. “All these years. A grandchild too.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. Someone answers immediately. “Any word on that rat?” I can hear the disgust in his voice.
