I was in some kind of nightmare. “Excuse me?”
“Breast is best.” She pulled a silver cigarette container out of her purse. “Do you smoke?”
I shook my head.
“Mica tells me all the time that I need to smoke outside.” She called to the dogs. “Come on, puppies. Outside we go.”
Sniper looked at me with a question on his face.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You can go.”
I watched as she let herself out to the back deck. She studied the scarecrow without reaction.
Mica appeared beside me. “How is it going?”
I turned on him, not even trying to hide the desperate notes in my voice. “You have to tell her the truth.”
“I can’t.”
I hissed in his face. “She’s talking to me about quitting my job, making big babies with you and breastfeeding.”
His eyebrows shot up comically. “Uh.”
“Tell her we are not even thinking about having kids and that is your decision. Not mine.”
“She knows I don’t want kids.”
That shocked me. It’s not like I was ready to have kids, but they were always in my hazy future. He sounded pretty damn sure about his decision. “Fine. Remind her of that.”
He looked grim.
I know it sounded dramatic, but I added under my breath, “Do not leave me alone with her. You don’t get to leave, and if you do, you take her with you.”
He sighed. “I know she’s a lot.”
“Mica!” His mom called from the balcony. “Who bought this patio furniture?”
He walked to the balcony door and spoke to her. I stood watching as they talked, and then he came walking back to me.
“What’s wrong with the patio furniture?”
“She said it looks cheap.”
I had no idea how to deal with this woman. Her only saving grace was that she was Mica’s mother, and for that reason alone, I would be as gracious as possible with her.
“Do you still want breakfast?”
“Let me help.” Together we cooked breakfast.
“I was talking to my friend, Jasper.”
Mica stirred the potatoes in the pan. “You’ve mentioned him a few times.”
“We’ve been friends since I was in grade seven. He lives in San Francisco. He’s a dancer.”
Mica glanced at me but didn’t speak.
“Would it be okay if I invited him for a visit?”
“Sure.”
His mom came back inside and stood beside me. “You’re whipping the eggs wrong.” I stepped back as she took the whisk out of my hand. “Flip them up like this, to get air into them.”
I ground my teeth. “Thank you.”
She looked around the kitchen. “I think I should give you some cooking lessons.”
I willed Mica to look at me, but he kept his back to the conversation. “That would be lovely.”
“My son needs some decent Russian food. That is your job now.”
I flipped those eggs so hard they foamed, but I didn’t speak.
While we ate, Yelena only spoke Russian to Mica. Mica responded in English, so I got half the conversation. It seemed like they were mostly talking about things that happened back home.
She switched to English, probably to make sure I understood the conversation.
“When are my grandbabies coming?”
Mica’s expression darkened. He spoke with complete conviction. “We’re not having a family.”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He stood up and picked up his plate and my own. “End of discussion.”
She stood up and followed him into the kitchen. “You have to have children. You have a responsibility to this family.”
I lifted my head in interest. He scraped the plates, ignoring her.
“Mica.” She spoke sharply. “You can’t decide not to have children.”
“This isn’t news to you.”
“You were young. Now you are a man. You need to be thinking of your future.”
He wiped his hands on the towel and looked at her. “I am.”
“Everyone wants children.”
“Some people shouldn’t have children. I’m one of those people.”
She raised her hand and pointed at me. “What about your wife? She wants babies.”
Mica froze and turned to look at me. My eyes went wide.
“Drop the baby talk,” he warned.
To my horror, she began to cry. “This is all my fault.”
I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, but I was all ears.
“It’s not your fault. It’s just the way it is.”
“You need to let her go.”
Let who go?
“Enough!” He threw the towel into the sink and then stalked across the living room and moved outside. I turned in my seat to watch him. He savagely picked up the scarecrow and threw it off the deck.
“I’ve upset my son.”
I didn’t respond. Mica jumped off the balcony and started to tear apart the scarecrow.
“Now he’s wrecking your Halloween decoration,” she said sadly.
Wild laughter bubbled out of