Page 17 of Doc

“Synok,”she says.“Is that you? It’s been so long since I’ve heard my son’s voice, I can’t be sure.”

It’s hard not to laugh at her dramatics. Ilyona Knightly is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them.

“It’s been a week, Ma,” I say patiently.

“A whole week! That's a lot of time for an old, lonely mother.”

I scoff. “You’re not old or lonely. Tetya Kat is there, isn’t she?”

My mother makes a noise and I can picture the eye roll that accompanies it.“Please, as if your auntie is any substitute for you, my one and only child.”

I sigh. “Are you finished?”

She hums.“I don’t know, are you properly feeling the guilt?”

Laughing, I settle into the sofa, kicking my feet onto the coffee table. “Yes, Mamochka. I’m sorry, I’ve been busy settling in and getting acclimated with the new job.”

She huffs.“Don’tmamochkame. You don’t think I know your tricks, Zaychik.”

“Where do you think I learned them from?” I ask.

Mom laughs and I smile at hearing it, the carefree sound welcome after my long day.“Tell me, Zaychik, how’s your new job? Are they treating you well? Do you think this will work?”

Closing my eyes, I try to gather my thoughts while also shoving my interest in Doc to the side. “Yeah, it’s good so far. It’s only been a few days, but everyone’s been welcoming. It’s not what I expected, but I like that. It feels as if I’m going to fit in there. They’re all batshit, though Ididexpect that.”

Mom laughs.“From what I hear, that’s not a surprise. But, they’re good people. Ivan wouldn’t have sent you if he didn’t think they would accept you.”

“Yeah, I know. Have you heard from Papa?”

She sighs.“No, but I can guess at what he’s going to say when he finally catches up to me.”

“You don’t have to answer, you know that, right?”

“You think I can’t handle your father? I’ve had a lot more practice with him than you have, Synok.”

“I know, Ma. But we both know he’s going to be demanding and more aggressive than usual when he doesn’t get what he wants. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

“Soren Ilya Petrov, are you saying I can’t handle myself?”My mother’s exasperation can be heard through the phone, and I wince at the look I know she’s giving me, even from the other side of the state.

“No, Mamochka, I know you can. I just worry. You know as well as I do what he’s like when he doesn’t get his way.”

She huffs.“Yes, well, if he has an issue with you changing careers and affiliations, he can mind his own damn business. My zaychik is allowed to do whatever makes him happy. I’ll be sure to tell Nisha that, too. As for your affiliation… He’ll have to take that up with Ivan. But are you sure this is what you want, Zaychik?”

“Da, Ma, it is. I don’t know any other life than the mafia. I got into medicine because I wanted to have a place, that it’s not with Uncle Ivan doesn’t mean I can’t be useful here.”

She makes a distressed noise, but I can’t do anything more to reassure her. Being born into the Bratva is very different from willingly immersing yourself into it. There are certain expectations placed on you–especially when you’re the Pakhan’s nephew. My choice to leave wasn’t an easy one, though all of us–my mother, uncle, and myself–understood that if Ididn’tleave, they would kill me. Because I may have hidden who I am for this long, but I’m not the type to spend my life in a closet.

Taking a place with the Amatos, with the blessing of my uncle, is the only thing keeping me alive right now. My mother is very aware of this, as much as she doesn’t want to be.

“I don’t like it, Zaychik.”

“I know, Ma.”

She sighs and we sit in silence for a moment.“So tell me,”she eventually says, cheer in her voice.“Have you met anyone?”

Doc flashes to the forefront of my mind, but I push him away as I answer. “No, Ma. I haven’t had the time.”

“Make the time, Sory. You won’t be twenty-five forever, you know. There’s plenty of time to be a fuddy-duddy.”

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