Chapter 4

“Somewhere up ahead.” Natasha waved her hand vaguely through the air. “Doesn’t matter! I’m stuck here with some Zhorik Lieberman and his mother. Seriously, Berry, isn’t that a riot?”

Whatever troubles were lurking in my own life, they were darkening the horizon of Natasha’s too, and that upset me. I loved my friend; she was a good person, and I wanted nothing but happiness for her.

And, honestly, I wanted it for Zhorik too. The two of them were perfect for each other, in my opinion. They had been dating for five years and surely would have gotten married long ago if not for one big, fat “but.”

Zhora Lieberman was thirty, and he lived with his mother. Not just his mother—a capital-M Mom. You know the type, right? A heavyset woman who was in very poor health: Isolda Moiseyevna. Fairy called her nothing but Crocodile Tears.

Crocodile Tears loved her son dearly and was insanely jealous of Natasha.

Zhorik was an educated, quiet young man and a dentist; when he met Feyakina, he was still a virgin. He kept Fairy hidden from his mother for the first three years of their relationship, and when his mother heard rumors that her Zhorik was fooling around with a “hairdresser,” there was a horrible scandal.

The two women “accidentally” met, and Natasha learned a lot of new things about herself. It would all have been fine if Zhorik had stood up for her. But instead, he left with his mother—or rather, she made him leave. Then he came back. Then he left again. And came back again…

At the same time, he really did love Natasha. During the peaceful stretches of their relationship, he cooked little soups for her, bought her presents, and looked at Fairy the way Pygmalion looked at his Galatea—with tender adoration. And that last fact, in my humble opinion, was a bullet straight through the heart of Crocodile Tears.

Anyway, five years had passed, and Zhorik still hadn’t figured out what to do about his women. Every time he moved in with Natasha, his mother suffered a heart attack—always complete with a call for an ambulance, IV drips, and insistent calls to her son from the hospital. Anyone else would have died by then, but the moment Zhorik came home, Crocodile Tears miraculously rose from the dead.

Over the past two years, these attacks had happened with enviable regularity, and yesterday, when the phone rang at my friend’s apartment again—right in the middle of sex—Fairy’s patience finally snapped.

“I lost. Let’s drink, Mashka!”

“To what? To us?”

“Of course! And let’s also drink to the word ‘bitch’ being used exclusively for four-legged female dogs!”

That was how Feyakina and I spent last night, hugging our martinis until three in the morning, and today it was my turn to sigh heavily.

“So what happened, Mashka? At GBG-Project? Tell me! I don’t want to talk about Zhorik!”

So I told her.

“So they didn’t hire you. Big deal! Life isn’t over! You said yourself your chances of getting the job were slim. We’ll find something! What are you so upset about, Berry? This isn’t like you.”

“You’ll never guess who I ran into there today.”

“Who?”

“Dimka Gordeev.”

Fairy had just popped a candy into her mouth and was about to wash it down with her coffee like a civilized person when, hearing the news, she nearly choked and had to swallow everything in a hurry. Gordeev had been her crush in school.

“You’re kidding!” Natasha gaped. “Where?! He moved abroad!”

“Apparently he’s back. I ran into him right in the technical director’s office, at the interview. He was sitting there, smug as a bug.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Can you believe it? He didn’t recognize me.”

Fairy burst out laughing, and I scowled.

“Very funny, Natasha. I’m serious.”

“Oh, I can’t! You?!” My friend still couldn’t believe it. “No way, Berry! Did he lose his memory? Or did life knock him senseless?”

“His memory’s fine, and he remembers everything perfectly. But he said it was the first time he’d ever seen me.”

I told her everything—all over again. Even about the snow-white cuff.

“What a ba-a-astard!” Natasha gasped in sympathy.

“A complete asshole, no question!”

“Listen, Mashka, what’s Gordeev like now? I haven’t seen him since school. Do you remember how much I liked him? I even used to lie in wait for him at the bus stop and confess my love—in fourth grade. What a fool I was!”

“I remember. I also remember you liked Lognitsky, Yusupov, and Derevyanko. And confessed your love to all of them.”

“Guilty as charged. But I honestly pined for Gordeev longer than any of them. He had such freaking gorgeous lips, mmm…”

“Well… He’s turned into a fat, bald, cross-eyed hog.”

Fairy gasped so hard she nearly spilled her coffee. Her eyes bulged.

“No way! Dimka?!”

I sighed and admitted:

“I really wish he had, Natasha.”

“But what is he really like?”

But what was he really like…

“I didn’t get a good look at him. But he probably works out. Shoulders this big!” I held my hands apart to show her.

“Holy crap!”

“Yep.”

“He swam and ran track in school,” my friend said with a nod. “I went to the same pool as him. We even dove off the high board together. He dove like a fish, and I did a cannonball.”

“And he grew his hair out. Remember how he always had a buzz cut?”

“Of course.”

“Well, the buzz cut is gone now.”

“What does he have instead?” Another candy disappeared behind Natasha’s cheek.

“A mane like a young Antonio Banderas. Just a little shorter.”

“No way!”

“Yep. That’s why I was so surprised—Dimka’s changed so much, and I couldn’t help myself. But he was sitting at the table. Maybe he has a belly the size of two watermelons! And bowed legs. I’d love that!”

“I have a hard time believing that, Mashka,” Feyakina said doubtfully, and I was forced to agree.

“Fairy, what difference does it make? The important thing is that I’m nothing but dust to him! Do you understand? He’s seeing me for the first time! We sat together for four years. I haven’t forgotten how he sharpened my pencils. How can that even happen? I don’t understand.”

Natasha hesitated, then said:

“Listen, Berry, have you thought about his connection to Mamleev? Maybe it’s because of Kirill. The rumors must have reached them.”

“I have,” I admitted, “but I don’t want to believe it. And even if it’s true—screw them all! The Berries are mine!”

“Exactly! Ass-first, straight into the deepest, darkest hole! Gordeev too!”

“Gordeev too!”

We finished our coffee, ate the candies, and kissed each other on the cheeks goodbye.

It’s still wonderful that I have Fairy!