me. She grabbed the pastry bag and put it in my hands and then wrapped her fingers around mine. She said something in Russian as she applied pressure to my fingers, which, in turn, forced some of the glaze out of the pastry bag and onto the cake.
I did my best to pay attention as she showed me how to ice the cake and the pattern she wanted, but my brain wasn't cooperating. "Really, Mrs. Falkov, I can't—" I began, but she cut me off with a shake of her head. Then she was smiling widely and saying something in Russian that I had no hope of understanding. She pointed at the cake and then the pastry bag and made the motion she’d just taught me. Then she turned on her back on me and moved to the refrigerator to get a pitcher full of some kind of red juice.
I drew in a deep breath and did my best to focus all of my attention on glazing the cake. But try as I might, the glaze still ended up scattered all over the cake and the plate just like the thoughts that were scattered in my head.
I fully expected Anna to be horrified when she returned to my side, but she surprised me again when she said, "Very good," and patted me on the back. She took the pastry bag from me and placed it on the counter and then handed me the plate with the cake on it.
"Nikolai very lucky," she said as she softly patted my cheek. Then she turned to collect a tray with the pitcher of red liquid on it as well as some glasses. I was dumbfounded by her behavior. As I followed her back into the dining area, I passed her kindness off as general politeness toward her son’s client. Anna took the plate from me and set it on the table but before I could take my seat next to Elena, Nikolai’s mother was grabbing my elbow and shaking her head. Then she pointed at her son.
I didn’t need to understand Russian to get her gesture as she motioned to the empty seat next to Nikolai. I could feel my cheeks heating as I realized she'd fully bought into the idea that I was in a relationship with her son. I turned to face her in the hopes that I could somehow explain that it wasn't like that, but she merely smiled and said, "Sit, sit."
Before I could respond, Anna took my seat next to Elena. I was sure all eyes were on me as I moved to the chair next to Nikolai, but in reality, everybody was talking excitedly amongst themselves as they admired the cake. I heard Anna say my name and figured she was explaining the poor icing job to her family.
As I sat down next to Nikolai, he leaned into me and murmured, “Are you all right?”
I lied and nodded my head.
There was a bit of bustling across the table as Anna stood up. She held a knife and cake server. I assumed she was handing them to her son but when she said something in Russian, Nikolai said, “She wants you to cut the cake.”
“What? Why?” I blurted.
Nikolai’s hand settled on my thigh beneath the table. He leaned into me like he was going to kiss my cheek but instead, his lips settled by my ear as he whispered, “You’re not the only one who wants to make a good impression, sweetheart.”
It took me a moment to process his words. Why would Nikolai’s mother be worried about impressing me? I was certain he was mistaken but when I looked at Anna, I saw a hint of nervousness in her features as she continued to hold the knife and cake server out.
I stood up enough to take the items from her. Nikolai pulled the cake closer to me. As soon as I began cutting, the kids began requesting the biggest pieces and whatever tension had hung over the room quickly disappeared. By the time I sat back and began working on my own piece of cake, everyone was laughing and talking again.
I sought out Nikolai’s hand beneath the table and felt something tight ease in my chest when his strong fingers wrapped around mine.
Then, as I looked around the small but clearly happy family, I did the unthinkable.
I wondered what it would be like to be one of them.
Chapter 19
Nikolai
"He's my client, Mom," I reminded my mother in Russian