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I kiss the top of her head. It feels like she gets taller every month. “Missed you, too.” I pull back a little so that I can take a good look at her. “Did you cut your hair again?”
“Sure did. I’m hoping to work up the courage to go fully buzzed soon.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Because I refuse to play into the patriarchy’s hands by growing out my hair and wearing short skirts and behaving like a ‘good girl.’ Fuck that.”
There’s an inverse relationship between the length of her hair and how often she says “fuck,” apparently. I’ve decided to ignore it. Snapping at her about her choice of language is Nikolai’s domain, not mine.
“Good,” I growl. “We’ll dress you in a parka instead. Keep the boys at school from staring too long.”
She laughs and pinches me in the ribs. “I didn’t mean that literally. I like my short skirts.”
Mussing her hair, I ask, “Have you seen Lev yet?”
“No.” Her eyebrows immediately flatten out and her mouth turns down at the edges. I only ever see that look on her when she’s worried about Lev. And she’s worried about him alotthese days. “I ran into Svetlana earlier and she said he was having a bad day.”
More like “days,” plural.
“He’s fine. He’s just going through an adjustment right now.”
“Um, yeah, duh—of course he is. You’re not letting him into the basement.” She tilts her chin down to give me what she calls her “serious stare” and somehow,Iend up feeling like the younger sibling. “I was also informed thatIhad to stay clear of the basement, too. Care to explain?”
I can’t get pissed at Svetlana—those are my orders she’s carrying out. “There’s been a… rat infestation down there.”
Polly’s eyebrows float way up. “Is that a euphemism?”
“Polina.”
“Don’t youPoliname. I’m not a baby anymore, you know. And I’m not Lev, either. I know when you’re making a lame excuse.”
“Then you also know when I’m withholding information for your own good.”
“Fine.” She grimaces. “I guess.”
I steer her towards the dining room, where dinner is being set out. This room didn't always have heavy curtains, but it was the only way to coax Lev into sharing a meal with us once in a while. Even when it was dark out, he preferred that the floor-to-ceiling windows were covered. He got agitated if he saw something move in the dark and he didn’t know what it was.
I don’t blame him.
“Is Nikolai joining us for dinner today?”
“Not today. He’s busy.”
She nods like she doesn’t care, but I can tell she’s disappointed by the way she forces a smile onto her face. “What should we do tonight after dinner? Pillow fight? Movie marathon? Couple rounds of poker?”
“You know what we’ll end up doing,” I grumble.
We both look at each other and say at the same time, “Video games.”
The simple fact of the matter is that, most of the time, our lives revolve around Lev and his needs. But instead of resenting him for it, she just loves him harder. Even if sometimes that means loving him from afar.
Both of us turn to the open doorway when we hear a door slam. A few minutes later, Lev pokes his head around the corner. Polina has always been awhy-shake-hands-when-you-can-hugkind of girl. But with Lev, she doesn’t so much as take a step towards him. She knows better.
“Hey, buddy,” she greets. “How’re you doing?”
“Hi, Polly.”
She smiles wider. “Happy to see me?”
