Page 104 of Nine Months to Bear
I strain to hear Olivia’s response, but a passing car muffles whatever she might’ve said. In its wake, there’s only the clink of china and the soft rustle of the tablecloth.
When I return with the packed bag, they’re standing by the window. Babushka is pointing out her herb garden while Olivia nods attentively.
“Ready?” I ask.
They turn toward me in unison, and I catch the tail end of some shared look—conspiratorial, amused. Like they’ve been discussing me.
“What were you talking about?” I ask my grandmother as we walk to the car.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Babushka’s eyes twinkle with mischief.
I hold the car door open for them both, watching as Olivia helps my grandmother settle into the back seat.
As I drive toward the estate, their conversation continues behind me. Babushka asks about Olivia’s family, her education, her dreams.
“In my day,” Babushka remarks, “if a man wanted you, he brought you soup when you were sick and fixed your roof when it leaked. None of this… what do you call it? ‘Netflix and chill’?”
Olivia laughs. “I think the principle is the same. Just different methods.”
“Hmm. And what has my grandson brought you? Besides trouble?”
I catch Olivia’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Something passes between us—heated, complicated. Then she looks away.
“Security,” she says simply. “He makes me feel safe.”
At the estate, I expect them to separate—Babushka to her usual guest room, Olivia to the suite I prepared for her. Instead, my grandmother links her arm through Olivia’s.
“Come,malyshka. Let me show you the garden before we’re whisked away to wherever Stefan has planned for us next. His grandfather planted those roses sixty years ago, you know…”
I watch them walk away, Babushka’s slight figure beside Olivia’s taller frame, their heads bent together in conversation. I feel a pang of something cold and ugly in my stomach, and it takes me a moment to place it.
Jealousy.
I’m jealous of my own grandmother.
The realization is so ridiculous, so pathetic, that I want to put my fist through something breakable. Instead, I pull out my phone and call Taras.
“Status report,” I bark.
“It’s been quiet, man,” he replies. “Both the feds and Boston PD have been out of sight and out of mind since the initial crackdown. No sign anywhere of Iakov. Things seem to be settling down, but… I dunno. I don’t trust it. Quiet, like I said.”
“Yeah. Too quiet.” I watch Olivia bend to smell a white rose. “I wantThe Antoniaprepared. Full provisions, skeleton crew.”
“The yacht? Boss, that’s overkill for a few federal raids.”
“It’s not about the raids,” I snarl. “How long have I been trying to get Babushka to agree to extended security? Years. But the moment I mention Olivia needs protection…”
Taras laughs in surprise. “The old woman actually agreed?”
“Turns out Olivia was all the bait I needed.”
“You sound pissed about that.”
I am. But not for the reasons I should be.
“Just have the boat ready,” I snap. “And add a secondary team at the house.”
Taras is puzzled. “For what? I thought you said you were getting on the boat.”
