Page 5 of Russian Daddy

Marta’s eyes light up and she shouts, “Torin. Come here please.”

Torin enters the room, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“What can I do for you, lovely ladies?”

“Your father’s truck is in the garage. Can you use it to help Tess make a run to the lumber yard?”

“Absolutely. I’ve already told Tess. Anything she needs will be my pleasure.”

My cheeks get hot all over again, and this time, I’m sure he’s doing this to me intentionally.

“That’s very nice. Thank you,” I say.

“Not a problem. We can go now if you want to. Then maybe we can get some lunch.”

“Oh. Marta, were we finished here?” I

“Go, Tess. The sooner it’s done, the sooner the art department can get to work. I’ll get the keys.” Marta walks away, and Torin looks down at me.

“It’s my lucky day I guess. I get to spend more quality time with the teacher.”

“I’m sure lugging around sheets of plywood and 2x4s was exactly what you wanted to do today.” I laugh.

“I told you, anything you need and I meant it.”

He takes me out to the garage where the old blue pickup truck is stored.

“Pops sure did take good care of this thing. It looks as good now as it did when I graduated high school.”

“It’s that old?” I ask and instantly regret it.

“You make it sound like they chiseled my diploma out of stone. I’m only thirty-eight. You’re already teaching, so you’re what? Twenty-four or twenty-five?”

“Twenty-four,” I answer as he cranks up the engine, which sputters at first, then quiets down and gently purrs.

“You told me that you came here for work, but you didn’t tell me where you’re from.”

“Oh, I grew up in the city. My parents are still there.”

“So, you and I have just been crossing paths, eh? I’m glad we ended up here at the same time.”

“Me too,” I confess and blush a little.

“You know, it’s alright for you to like me,” he tells me, catching me off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You blush every time you say something nice to me. You don’t have to be embarrassed. I like you too. I like you very, very much.”

“I told you, I’m awkward. I can’t help it.”

“I don’t think you’re awkward. You’re too graceful and polished for that. I just think that maybe you’re lacking experience in certain things. Am I right?”

“You mean things like being attacked and then rescued by a hulk of a man who happens to be my only friend’s son? Yeah, I have limited experience with that.”

“I hope I’m not prying too much, but I was talking about experience with men. Are you married or seeing someone?”

“No, I’m very single. I don’t even have a cat.”

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