Chapter 2

The elevator gave its familiar jolt, stopped on the right floor, and I got out. I walked up to my apartment, unlocked the door, and stepped into the entryway. I switched on the light, tossed my dirty hat onto the shelf, and sank onto the ottoman. After sitting there for several seconds, I pulled the sneaker off one foot and began carefully unlacing the other.

The kitchen light was on, and I could hear the coffee machine humming. Beans struck the blades and cracked apart with that familiar sound, all so that a minute later they could turn into scalding Americano with cream. That was how Zhenka liked to drink it.

Everyone that morning was drinking the divine elixir of a life going right. Everyone except me.

My sister and I lived together in an apartment in an old seven-story building across from the park. We had no parents, which meant my little sister was already awake.

“Gel!” her bright voice carried from the kitchen. “Can I finish your cheese crepe? It’s been in the fridge for two days already, and I have three classes at the university today, and the first one is sociology with Strashko! I’m going to explain ‘structural functionalism’ to him! Can you imagine, I only found out last night that I was the lucky one picked to present on the topic. That professor really is a merciless creature!… So can I have it? I want to properly fuel up before facing him!”

“Take it.”

This is where I need to insert one tiny remark before my story goes any further and you start thinking I’m greedy, and that’s why people have to ask my permission. Not at all. It’s just that my sister and I ended up alone early, when I was eighteen and she was eleven. Back then, life was hard, and honestly, there was almost nothing to live on. But even at eleven, Zhenka refused to let me drop out of university and took the housework on herself. I worked evenings and weekends. And we always split everything down the middle.

Now she was the one in university, while my high-school gold medal had been joined by an honors diploma in advertising. Our apartment with its high ceilings and arched windows had been renovated, a prestigious car stood in the garage, and in general the need to share the last of anything, literally speaking, had long since disappeared. But the habit of not taking what wasn’t yours without asking had remained.

I had managed to remove the sneaker and sock and was now examining my injured leg. My usually slim ankle had reddened and already swollen noticeably, and a bruise had formed under the bone. All I could do was hope it wasn’t broken; otherwise my bad luck would be total in a truly offensive way.

Though I was already offended enough to cry.

Just imagine: today I had a meeting with the Koreans, the signing of the biggest contract of my life with a cosmetics brand, and a business reception. Welcoming smiles and confidential handshakes. And here I was, sitting and wondering how exactly I was supposed to show up for that meeting—in a cast with a crutch, or in sneakers with a cane?

Zhenka poked her head out of the kitchen in a short nightshirt, a cup of coffee in hand—long-legged and slender. When she saw me, she froze on the threshold of the entryway, widened her blue eyes, and let her jaw drop.

“Wow. Miss Perfection, did you get struck by lightning or run over by a garbage truck?”

“Worse.”

“Chewed up and spit out by the Alien?”

“More or less.”

“Damn, Gelya, what happened?”

My sister was a copy of me, except her dark blond hair came from our father, while my fair hair came from our mother. And her chest hadn’t caught up to mine yet because of her age. But right now, I could easily imagine what she was seeing.

With this little person, I could be myself, and although I wasn’t used to complaining, I unexpectedly sighed and said sadly:

“I finally realized Arnold and I aren’t right for each other.”

Zhenka blinked, wrinkled her pretty nose, and gave a skeptical snort:

“Only now? I’ve been telling you for two years that he’s a self-absorbed ass and his mommy’s obedient little boy! And a cheapskate on top of that! You can defend him as much as you want,” my sister got up on her favorite soapbox and, figuratively speaking, stamped her foot, “but a guy has to be spectacularly narrow-minded not to appreciate his girlfriend!”

“Consider the message received.”

“May I ask what pushed you toward this brilliant thought?… By the way, there’s a twig sticking out of your hair.”

I only waved it off. After everything that had happened today, a twig was the last unpleasant thing worth worrying about.

“I twisted my ankle, offended a groundskeeper, fell twice into a dirty pile of leaves, a cat stole my hot dog, and the police cited me for hooliganism.”

“And all that in one morning?”

“Yes. And the kiosk ran out of coffee on me, and I don’t know if I can drive because I think I may have a fracture.”

“Brutal!” my sister gasped.

“And do you know the worst part?”

“What?”

“I dreamed about a fish. Big and toothy.”

“Aaand?” Zhenka raised her eyebrows.

“And I realized Arnold and I will never have children. We’ll simply never dare! It will always be the wrong time and the wrong moment for us.” I sighed. “And that’s awful.”

“God, Gelya, what nonsense! Of course you’ll have them! You just need to find a normal guy!”

“No.” I shook my head, feeling my lower lip tremble. “I’ll do the work of two people my whole life until I turn into an old, lonely bitch. And it will all end with there being no one even to bring me a glass of water. Then, when the water in that glass evaporates, the only thing left of me will be dentures…”

Zhenka burst out laughing loudly, but immediately squeaked and fell silent. She held out her cup of coffee and placed it in my hands.

“Here, take it, Gelyechka. I’ll make myself another! Sit tight, I’ll warm up the crepe and bring it to you. And you know what?” She smacked a kiss on my cheek. “To hell with that sociology and its functionalism! I’d rather go to the hospital with you. What if it really is a fracture? And calling your Arnold is pointless. His Donkey Majesty is probably still snoring under Mommy’s wing!… Ugh, why hasn’t someone stolen you away from him?”

“Maybe because I’m boring? And generally a cold careerist?”

“No. Because for four years now you’ve been too busy securing the well-being of the Merzlyaev family instead of thinking about yourself!” 

*** 

The cup of coffee did its job, and I was able to pull myself together. I took a shower, dried my hair, and got dressed.

Today was going to be a difficult and important day: final approval of the advertising strategy I had personally developed with my department, and my climb to a new rung in my career. So despite the pain in my leg, I did my best to pull myself together in a way that suited the day.

I straightened my long hair, tied it into a mid-height ponytail, and put in steel-colored hoop earrings. They always made me feel more confident and, very simply, suited my face. I lined my upper lids with black winged liner, added some smoky shadow, and coated my lashes. I put on a cream blouse, leaving the top two buttons undone, and a pale blue pantsuit.