Vkusno
Vivian took a large bite out of her pirozhki, tiny crumbs tumbling down her chin as she chewed. She stared out at the almost vacant, snow-swept streets of Lahoysk, ears catching the mid-day chime of church bells from the St. Nikolai Orthodox Church not too far from her. A mile away, perhaps. She shook her head at the sound, eyes lulling closed a little with the memories of how she would get carried away by those church bells as a small child.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her childhood was not so long ago. However, the feelings that came with her were ripped far from her reach, torn to shreds before her eyes, and trampled on under dirtied, worn boots. Where was she going exactly?
“Dobriy den',” she announced airily, stepping into an older looking house built on the side of the empty street. There were children running through the lobby, up and down the carpeted stairs, and into the living room down the hall. The house smelled like fresh gingerbread that made Vivian’s mouth water even after eating her snack from earlier. She snapped out of her gluttonous thoughts when a middle-aged woman limped down the stairs, knee-brace wrapped around her left leg. Her eyes held a haggard sorrow that immediately brightened upon seeing Vivian undoing her scarf at the door.
“Viv’yen!” the woman exclaimed, rushing towards the door and throwing her arms around Vivian’s shoulders. The younger of the two laughed in response, doing the same with a wide grin on her face.
“Polina,” Vivian breathed into her shoulder, eyes stinging with tears that she forced herself to compose, “ya skuchal po tebe…”
It had been three years since Vivian left her home in the United States to train with her mentor, Minerva. Her adopted mother already met again with her a few weeks before, passing down her title to Vivian. Even still, the young woman was too nervous to go back home even though her family and friends were all waiting on her. Vivian told Polina this when they sat down at the table, two hours after she suddenly came; the children needed attending to before they took their nap for the day and the now-deity was more than willing to help.
Polina was Vivian’s first mother before her childhood was stolen from her. The woman listened intently to everything Vivian told her, initial shock of her former charge’s inhuman status aside. Much like Minerva and her mother, Diana, Polina was always opening to giving Vivian as much aid as possible, even if all she needed to do was sit back in silence. Vivian left a few things unsaid-- the terrible things that she had done that she was too afraid to even mention to her new mother. She was too paranoid that Polina would judge her. She was too anxious of imagining a world where she failed her.
“I think I understand why you are feeling this way,” Polina began slowly, accent thick through her hazy English. Vivian insisted that she would rather speak in that language. In truth, it had been a while since Vivian had even uttered a word of Russian; both her mother and mentor spoke it fluently, but the language of her old life was, for a long time, one of the things that the new war goddess figured that giving up would better her disposition. Polina’s arthritis-woven fingers turned the tea-filled mug in her hands back and forth. It was something that she could fidget with to help her get her words out. “You are, I think, in love.”
“Love? Bullshit.” Vivian winced at the stern glare Polina sent her way at her word choice. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I’ve fallen for anyone.”
“Not for one person, per say, but for a group of them. Your new family and friends. And you are afraid that you have disappointed them by going on this goosechase.” A frown twisted onto Vivian’s face, but she did not attempt to deny it. She needed to be honest with herself: she left without so much as a proper goodbye. She had not contacted anyone but her mother since. And she got what she wanted-- her new power. Shabina’s murder. Her change. But at what cost? Elias hating her? Her family never trusting her again? The ideas spiraled out of control in her head. She nearly dropped her mug when she raised the steamy drink to her lips.
“Oh! Eezveeneete…” She placed the cup down on the old, wooden coaster in front of her on the table, tipping her head back to stare at the fading bulb in the ceiling-lamp. Polina frowned at her.
“I think,” Polina started, drawing Vivian’s attention back on her, “you would be happy if you went home.”
Vivian hesitated. “I’m nervous.”
“Why?” Polina leaned forward to listen better.
“Just… what if they hate me?”
“Impossible,” dismissed Polina. “No one can hate you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes it is,” the woman insisted, taking Vivian’s hands in her larger ones. Vivian’s eyes watered staring at the loving look on Polina’s face. “You were never my true daughter, but I loved you as if you were my own. And now, even though you have come back to me after all of these years a changed person, I still love you. That will never fade away. You light a fire in the hearts of everyone you meet that will never burn out. I believe that they will be more than happy to see you again.” A pause, then a warm smile. “Go home. They need you, Viv’yen.”
Through a teary face and a throbbing heart, Vivian smiled brighter and more genuine than how she had in many, long years. “Okay.”
There was a thicket of woods with a tiny lake right outside of the town where Vivian remembered going to play at when she was a little girl. Polina always told her not to go because it was too far for her eyes to see, therefore marked dangerous. But Vivian always found a way to get there, sneaking past her caretaker when the coast was clear.
Polina, crippled and all, made a habit of taking the kids there to play there after their nap. That time, Vivian helped her and the kids there, racing the bigger ones that thought they could outrun her. With the winter shaded over their heads, the lake was frozen with a thin layer of ice and the trees were coated with a topping of snow. Polina watched over each child with a watchful eye, making sure that none of them strayed to close to the lake and that no other adult, whether she knew them or not, ventured towards their makeshift family. Vivian appreciated that and she smiled at the kids throwing snowballs at each other, laughing, sighing out a long, wintry breath.
She was taken far away the last time she was there by the masked people that robbed her of her childhood. But it’s okay. Watching these kids now, taking note of the wide grins on their faces, she had a feeling that everything would be okay.
“I should go,” she said quietly to Polina, turning to her with a lopsided smile. “If you ever need extra help with anything, please call me. I’ll be in touch.”
“I will, child. Jeez. You make it seem like I am some old, senile woman,” Polina huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Well, you are getting there--”
“Don’t push it.” Vivian giggled at the glare on her caretaker’s face. She took a step forward and embraced her, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek.
“Spaseeba,” she whispered. Polina hugged her back, squeezing her shoulders in a motherly way that made Vivian miss home.
“Beregi sebya.” The once young child that Polina knew pulled away, stepped backwards a few feet, and waved. As if she never existed, Vivian was gone in the blink of an eye.