Page 103 of Notes About Vodka

I laugh, scratching the back of my neck. “I’d bring her tomorrow if I could, but… well, one day, she’ll come to meet you. Actually, I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I wanted to tell you both… I’m going to marry her one day.”

Both of them fall silent, my mother’s eyes going wide before a huge smile breaks across her face. “Our Valik, finally settling down! Is she ready for that too?”

“Well,” I say, thinking of the fight, “we’re working through some things. She’s focused on her career right now—she’s studying to be a doctor. But yeah, I think when the time is right, she’ll be ready too.”

My dad nods approvingly, his expression softening. “A smart girl then. This is good. But don’t wait too long, Valya. Bring her here, get her some fresh air, real food.”

“And real advice from her future in-laws,” my mother adds with a knowing smirk.

We laugh together, the distance between us somehow shrinking a little with every word.

My mother clears her throat, giving me a knowing look. “So, have you told her you want to marry her?”

“Not yet,” I admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I was waiting for the right time, I guess. I mean, I don’t want to push her.”

“Then don’t wait too long,” my father says, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “Life doesn’t give you many of those ‘right times.’ Just go for it. She’s smart, she’ll understand.”

We talk a while longer, my mother diving into plans for how she’ll spoil Laura when she finally visits, and my father giving me serious advice on managing expectations (and on finding a good vodka for toasts at the wedding). Eventually, they start arguing about who will cook what when we visit, which turns into a playful debate about the superiority of borscht versus pelmeni.

“Tell Laura we’re on her side,” my mother jokes, waving to the camera. “And that she has very good taste in men. Well, decent, anyway.”

“I will, Mama.” I laugh, feeling a warmth that fills the empty apartment around me. “Spasibo. Both of you. I’ll call soon.”

Chapter Thirty

LAURA

"Some nights, the only thing that understands the ache in my chest is a shot of vodka."

Two weeks later…

After heading home for a few days to see my family back in Hurtsboro and then Wilks, Florida, I quickly left the panhandle and moved into my temporary apartment in Baltimore.

I only took what was needed for orientation and the first few days. I can always buy a few more clothes for six weeks and other items that I need.

Val sends money to my accounts every week, and I pay all the bills for both of us. It’s getting easier now that the world is heading to digital payment methods. Yet Val questions constantly if this was paid, or did this come in from my scholarship or pay-slips.

Val, how did we get here? It’s like we are already married.

Luckily, I’ve already paid my rent through the summer for the apartment I share with Val back in NYC and the apartmentin Maryland is covered by the internship. So now we just need to maintain and sustain.

And thankfully I only spent a little money at home. So it’s only saving from here! See Val, don’t stress about the bills!

Being a work-a-holic has paid off. Time has passed fast.

The money and tips atPianissimowere great, and since I never have time to spend my money, I’ve saved up a lot. This internship will pay enough for my tuition in the fall and hopefully carry me over until I get paid for being a chemistry teaching assistant.

It feels good to have a strong financial foundation. It’s not perfect, but it’s a step towards independence from my grandparents.

Especially since they are paying for my divorce from Sam and pretty much paid for my entire move from Alabama to New York.

Dada was so proud of me that I am standing on my own and getting Sam out of my life.

He’s interested in my relationship with Val and I promised to bring my Russian man home for everyone to meet him after the internship.

It also helps that Skipper has been flying back and forth with his new steward boyfriend as he learns the ropes of a career in the sky from Dallas. They find the best deals or cheap open seats on flights. It was very convenient to have their help going from NYC, home to Alabama, then back up to Baltimore from Florida. But honestly, I’d rather take the train. It’s fun, I love the noises of the wheels rolling on the tracks, and they serve adult beverages in the dining cart. Plus flight anxiety is a real thing. I read a book once about a girl from Puerto Rico who moved to Bon Secour, Alabama. Bianca’s my spirit animal because it was literally my anxiety channeled into a story.

Or Val just gets over his shit and drive down to pick me up… then we could figure out what’s going on in his head—together…

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