CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
O skar
The door swings open, and Dmitri squeezes my hand before releasing it. My sister opens the door, pink-and-red braces flashing.
“Dmitri Volkov!” she squeals. “I’m your sister!”
Shit.
“Hi Linnea,” I say.
In the next moment, Linnea flings herself into Dmitri’s startled arms with the enthusiasm and confidence of a pairs figure skater. He shoves the wine into my hand.
“Hi,” Dmitri says, patting her head awkwardly.
I hear footsteps, then Olivia lurches into my arms.
I grin. I’m not sure how used to children Dmitri is. He doesn’t have any siblings and when we do charity events, he normally signs up for the events with veterans or animals.
“That’s enough, Linnea,” I say.
I turn to my youngest sister. “Hi Olivia. How was school?”
“Why didn’t you invite us to your wedding?” Olivia whines.
“We, um, didn’t invite anyone to our wedding,” I say, exchanging a quick glance with Dmitri.
Olivia assesses Dmitri. “Are you shy?”
Dmitri swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing desperately. “Maybe a bit shy.”
I grin.
Dmitri definitely is not shy at work. He’s one of the most talkative players on the team.
But right now he looks like he’d rather face an angry opposing team than my teenage sisters.
“Maybe you should let Dmitri go,” I suggest.
“Oh, you squeeze him enough at home,” Linnea says, still clutching hold of Dmitri. “It’s my turn now.”
“That’s not how marriage works.”
“You’re an expert on marriage?” Pappa appears behind her, voice dry.
“I-I didn’t see you,” I stammer.
“I wasn’t going to run to answer the door for him.” Pappa sneers in Dmitri’s direction, then extends a stiff handshake. “Let him go, Linnea.”
Linnea releases Dmitri reluctantly, then she spreads out her arms wide. “Welcome to the family.”
Pappa rolls his eyes. “Don’t get attached to him.”
“He’s Oskar’s husband!” Linnea squeals.
“Yeah, he’s Oskar’s husband!” Olivia says, squealing louder, and proving that size and vocal diaphragm size are not predictable.
“Not all family members are forever,” Pappa says helplessly.
Linnea’s lower lip trembles, and even Dmitri looks a shade paler.
“What nonsense are you saying in front of the children?” Mamma appears, swatting Pappa aside and pulling Dmitri into the house.
I got my fine bones and slender frame from her, but she has no trouble manhandling hockey players.
“Welcome to the family, Dmitri. We’re so happy you’re here.”
Dmitri’s eyes widen, but he gives my mother a serious nod. “Thank you. I-I appreciate it.”
“Ingrid,” Pappa says. “You know things aren’t like that.”
Mamma raises an accusatory eyebrow, and Pappa glances at Linnea before his shoulders slump.
I’m pretty sure that Pappa told Mamma the marriage is fake, and they decided not to tell Linnea and Olivia I’m glad they didn’t. Preteens are hardly known for their discretion.
“This is from Dmitri,” I say, handing Mamma the bottle of red wine.
She studies the label. “From Tuscany. How wonderful.”
“The person at wine store said it was good,” Dmitri says, his usual confidence absent.
My mother frowns in his direction, craning her slender neck upward. “What happened to your face?”
Pappa shoots a guilty glance in our direction.
“Is no big deal,” Dmitri says. “Hockey is rough.”
Mamma shakes her head. “The amount of time I used to worry about my husband.”
Pappa’s guilty expression intensifies.
“I’m sure he could take care of himself,” Dmitri offers. “Still can.”
“I think dinner is ready,” Pappa interrupts. “Dining room, everyone!”
Linnea and Olivia race through the house, sliding across polished floors while Pappa shouts at them to behave.
“I assume he’s better at getting NHL players to behave than the girls,” Mamma says to Dmitri.
“We always thought he was pretty scary,” Dmitri says.
Pappa whirls around and jabs a finger at his face.
“He’s still pretty scary,” Dmitri says quickly.
Pappa puffs out his chest. “That’s right girls. Listens to this man.”
Linnea and Olivia stare at Dmitri, then shake their head.
“I thought you’d picked a smarter husband,” Linnea says finally.
“Why didn’t you pick a smarter husband?” Olivia echoes.
Horror flashes across Dmitri’s face.
“He’s plenty smart,” I say.
“He thinks Pappa is scary.”
“I am scary,” Pappa exclaims.
“Then you’ll get along wonderfully,” Mamma says, slipping her arms around Pappa and kissing him.
“Ew!” Olivia hollers.
“Ew!” Linnea squeals.
“Couples kiss,” Pappa says.
“One day you’ll kiss someone,” Mamma adds.
Olivia wrinkles her nose and shakes her head violently.
“Oskar kisses Dmitri,” Linnea says.
Olivia narrows her gaze. “No joke?”
“Of course,” Dmitri says, which I guess is better than saying he doesn’t.
“That’s disgusting,” Olivia says.
“Young lady!” Mamma scolds.
“Is not disgusting,” Dmitri says, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pulling me against his chest.
I’m his shield now.
Olivia eyes him skeptically. Pappa follows the exchange with way too much interest.
“You really kiss, Oskar?” Olivia asks.
“Absolutely,” Dmitri says firmly. “Sometimes.”
“You’re so lucky, Oskar,” Linnea sighs, batting her eyelashes at my husband.
“I’m the lucky one,” Dmitri says lightly, pressing a kiss to my temple.
My eyes are probably rolling back or doing something similarly embarrassing.
“I’m so happy for you,” Mamma beams. “I know how long you wanted this.”
I feel Dmitri stiffen behind me.
“To think the first time you bring home someone, it’s—”
“Mamma,” I plead, scrambling from Dmitri’s arms and scurrying away.
“What?”
“Mamma!”
I feel Dmitri’s gaze burning into me. My skin prickles.
I thought Pappa would be the embarrassing one.
“What? You’re together now!”
“But—” I stare at her.
She stares back.
“Sit down,” Pappa interrupts. “Food will get cold.”
Dmitri practically sprints to the dining room table. I don’t blame him.
I don’t want Dmitri to know just how strongly I feel about him. It’s mortifying. I should be able to be friends with a stunningly attractive athlete without pining after him. I shouldn’t objectify him. It’s not right.
I take a deep breath, as if it’s possible to swallow my feelings, and sit down. Dmitri takes the chair beside me. Usually his presence settles me, but now I feel unsteady, like when he started asking about my past relationships.
God, Mamma almost told him I’ve never had a boyfriend. That no one’s ever wanted me.
My nerves remain on edge, and I’m startled when Dmitri takes my wine glass and hands it to my mother, and more startled when he takes it back from her, now filled with wine. He rubs my shoulder, as if he thinks his touch can calm me. Not a bad assumption, honestly.
I take a longer sip of wine than I normally might, and when I set my glass down, Pappa is frowning at me.
“Don’t turn my son into an alcoholic, Dmitri,” Pappa says.
My mouth drops. “I took a sip! And you wanted him to bring the wine!”
Pappa’s lips curl, and I realize I’m not exactly projecting maturity here.
God, if Dmitri actually liked men, if he actually liked me, he probably wouldn’t after tonight.
“Dmitri is making our son happy,” Mamma scolds Pappa. “Do you know how long—”
“Mamma!” I plead. “Please.”
We do that staring thing again, though for some reason, she looks puzzled.
Does she think Dmitri and I are married for real? She must know this is fake. Dmitri is straight, straight, straight. He’d never pick me. Even if he were gay, he would probably pick someone muscular who could keep up with him in the gym. Like Vinnie and Evan or Noah and Finn.
No, maybe someday I’ll meet the wiry accountant or anesthesiologist of my dreams.
Dmitri says something praising the food to my mother, and I realize I probably should actually eat it. Family dinners generally don’t involve driving to my parents’ house, then staring at the food my mother worked on for hours.
I grab my fork and knife. The meatballs are probably super juicy, but when I put one in my mouth, it feels heavy and foreign. I chew awkwardly, conscious of Dmitri beside me, worried that Mamma will say another thing that will make him know just how inexperienced I am.
This isn’t the 1950s, and I’m not a woman who can get pregnant. There’re no bonus points for being inexperienced now. Dmitri sleeps with a different woman practically every time the bus stops in a new place. What will he think if he discovers that the friend he married for boring bureaucratic reasons has been pining for him for years?
My stomach clenches as I force myself to keep chewing.
Dmitri squeezes my thigh, and I probably give him a startled look. His eyes are round with worry.
“Okay?” he murmurs.
I nod, even though it’s not true, but when his lips swerve into a smile, there’s no way I’m not smiling right along beside him.
“You’re so cute!” Linnea squeals, and Dmitri stiffens.
“How is school going?” I ask quickly, listening to my sisters chatter about teachers and classmates.
I keep on asking them questions because the last thing I want is for Mamma or Pappa tto start interrogating Dmitri
The tension that’s gripped me since we arrived starts to dissipate.
Of course it couldn’t last.