Adriana grabs his wrist just like he took mine. “He’s coming with me, then. You can stay here if you feel so strongly about it.”
Before I can even argue, she’s marching out the door, dragging Grigoriy with her. He could easily stop her, but he doesn’t. And when I catch his eye, he’s laughing.
Fine. You win this round, you jerk, but you will pay for it later.
“You need my truck?” Kris is dangling keys from one finger when I reach the front driveway of Liepašeta. “It might make things easier.”
“Wait, what things?” I ask.
“Your mom’s moving out of her place, right?” She looks practically giddy, which is probably how I’d feel if I weren’t too nervous to really hope for it.
Mom’s never even agreed to leave before, so it’s hard to imagine she’ll really go through with it. It’s likely to be a threat to bring the world’s nastiest guy running back to her.
I struggle to understand my mom. She’s like someone who wants a hairless cat as a pet. I don’t even begin to get it, but those people exist.
I take the keys, though. “Thanks.”
I climb into the driver’s seat of Kristiana’s truck, and there’s a bit of an awkward moment when both Grigoriy and Adriana head for the passenger side, but to my shock and horror, Adriana gives way with a smirk.
“No,” I say. “You can sit up front.”
“It’s fine,” Adriana says, climbing into the back seat and moving Kristiana’s piles of vet supplies and paperwork over to clear a spot to sit. “I was just surprised for a moment, that’s all.”
“I’d be happy to drive,” Grigoriy says, “but I don’t know where we’re going.”
“You’re along strictly for moral support,” I say. “You don’t need to drive, talk, or even come inside.”
Adriana laughs.
I glare at her before backing out and turning down the driveway. As we approach Mom and Martinš’s place, my hands grip the steering wheel tighter and tighter, and I realize that it’s not Grigoriy who’s making me uncomfortable. Somehow, after my experience with that horrible Russian mafia guy, I’m even more nervous about being anywhere Martinš might be.
“Don’t worry,” Grigoriy says. “No one can hurt you when I’m here.”
I ought to punch him. I definitely don’t want him along, and I don’t need his help. But at least he’s making me angry instead of sick to my stomach.
Is that progress?
Probably not the point right now.
When we arrive, I park, but even after Adriana hops out, I’m still gripping the steering wheel. “You can stay here,” Grigoriy says. “I can go inside and help move anything your mother wants.”
“She won’t want to take much,” I say. “But I doubt she’ll even come. I bet he shows up and begs her to forgive him. Then she’ll make a big production out of it, and he’ll ratchet it up a notch or two, and then she’ll decide to stay.”
“You said he’s horrible,” Grigoriy says. “Why would she stay?”
I turn on him. “What reason has she ever had to stay before? Did you think before you came into my life, it never occurred to me to tell her to leave him? This isn’t our first time trying to get her away.”
“But it’s her first time wanting to leave,” he says quietly. “I heard that much.”
“Because she thinks he’s cheating on her.” And suddenly I’m sobbing, my forehead leaning against the steering wheel, and big, ugly tears rolling down my face.
“She should have left him for you.” Grigoriy strokes the back of my head. “She’s a terrible mother, but she’s still your mother.”
“Hey.” I lift my head. “She’s not a terrible mother.”
He keeps stroking my head. “She’s not a terrible mother.”
“Actually, she is.” I sigh and drop my head back onto the steering wheel.