Page 89 of Silent Ties

He opens his car door, silently telling me if I cared, I wouldn’t have dragged him to this debacle.

Elijah is the first person we see. And right next to him is the most adorable dog I’ve ever seen.

“I love you,” I tell Albert the Bernese mountain dog.

Elijah smirks, twirling his glass of amber-colored liquor. “Did you get me a present?”

Max slaps the back of his head. “It’s not your birthday.”

He pouts. “I’m not above bribery.”

Lev sneaks up, taking the opportunity to also slap the back of his head. “Not in this family, we aren’t.”

He gives me a hug, kissing both cheeks. When he steps back, Max is scowling.

“Good to see you too, son.” He throws an arm around his shoulder.

Max shakes him off and grabs my hand. “We’releaving.”

Irina pops up, taking ahold of my other hand. “You can leave all you want, but we’re keeping her.”

I hear Roma’s voice before I hear it. “Is that Russ?”

Max scrubs at his face. “You’re all a bunch of annoying fucks, you know that?”

“Happy birthday, dear brother,” Roma says when he rounds the corner.

I rarely see him in the flesh, though we text often. He’s the most casual, a pair of jeans and a shirt. He and Dima shirk button-downs, a staple favorite of the other Zimin men. His hair is longer than Max’s and not styled. His smile is warm, though, and he gives me a side hug.

Max pushes him away.

“All right enough.” Lev corrals his sons up the stairs, the furry dog weaving between their ankles.

“Thank goodness.” Irina sighs. She’s as cute as ever, in a floor-length dress and her gray curly hair. Her eyes blink behind a pair of thick eyeglasses.

After my lunches with Yelena ended, Max went with me a few times. Then one day I arrived at the restaurant and found Irina staring at the case of desserts.

She held her arms out wide. “This is amazing. Let’s start with dessert!”

And that’s why Max’s grandmother is now my favorite. We eat lunch together almost weekly, but it’s not ever at stuffy restaurants. There’s a cozy bistro which is her favorite, but most of the time we eat at one another’s homes. She’s got a place in the city, adamantly refusing to live with her sons, though, they both keep suggesting it. She likes her independence.

Not only is Irina warm and friendly, but she’s hilarious. She likes to bake and she’s teaching me Russian recipes.

As we bake, she speaks to me in Russian, helping my skills. I rattle off vocabulary words, but I’d like to think it’shelping. If anything it’s nice knowing Irina is my number one cheerleader.

We poke around the kitchen, eating finger food that’s not made its way upstairs. A few close friends of the Zimin’s were also invited, but I’m told it’s a much smaller affair than normal.

“Is Lennie here?” I ask.

Irina blinks behind her thick glasses. “Lennie?”

I nod, breathing in deep. God, the food smells great.

“You know Lennie?”

“I met her at our wedding party,” I explain. “I don’t know her very well, but you said close friends of the family are here. Aren’t Boris and Lev close?”

She smiles but for the first time, it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yes. Absolute trouble those two. But no, Lennie’s not here tonight.”

---