C17 Chapter 16 - Valentina

Valentina

Moscow, Russia, 2019/2020 – winter

Isabella: do you want to party in Italy for new years?

Adrik taps me on the shoulder and I look up at him, coming back to reality. It’s Christmas Eve and we’re at a Christmas dinner. The room is filled with relatives and my father’s business associates, at one of the hotels he’s decided on investing in.

It’s the first time we have ever held the family Christmas dinner outside of our house in Moscow, but my father explained that his associates have also been considered family for years now and that he would like to try out something new.

‘Something new’ meant inviting everyone who usually came to the family dinner at the Four Seasons in Moscow to have them get to know his ‘other family’. I stare at the people on the other side of the hall. Most of his associates appear to be men dressed in black suits accompanied by beautiful women wearing long elegant dresses, just like my mom. My mom, who made me wear an uncomfortable dress that makes me look fifty and a pair of stilettos from her own closet as she mumbled that I needed new shoes.

Everyone seemed on edge today, and I have no idea why. But then I remember that every time we have to go somewhere as a family, chaos has to come first before we can peacefully coexist.

“I brought you a drink.” Adrik says and hands me a glass with blueberries in it. “It’s blueberry gin.”

I squint my eyes at him after I take it and he sits down next to me. “Why are you being nice?”

“I’m bored.” He admits.

He’s also right. Besides Raisa and Aleksi who are also here with their mother, there are only a few other people who look our age, most of them across the room.

“Yeah, me too.” I say, looking at my mother who seems to be very interested in what Raisa’s mother, Katya, has to say.

Katya Volkov has always seemed like a strong woman to me, even though I rarely talk to her. Even now, being here on the first Christmas without her husband, and her children without their father, makes me respect her and her family even more. I don’t even know what I would do or how I would react if my father were to-bad thoughts.

I consciously decide to move my thoughts elsewhere, so I turn to my left to talk to Raisa, who is quieter than usual. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She sighs, placing her phone upside-down on the table.

I take a sip from my gin and wait for her to say something. I read somewhere that being silent makes people open up more. Plus, I don’t really know what to say to her right now.

“I mean, I’ve been talking to Matteo over the holidays, but he sometimes takes way too long to reply. I think he’s going to ghost me.” There we go.

“Why would you think that?” I ask her, even though it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.

Even though I don’t want to judge people too quickly, Matteo seems like the exact type of guy who would sleep with several women and not really care if they made it into something more in their heads. And then there’s also the weird vibe I felt with his ex.

Raisa shrugs. “I don’t know? I guess because I know that he’s been hanging out with his ex, Allison.”

“Maybe they’re friends.”

“No, they’ve been sleeping together too.”

I lean back. “How do you know?”

“I figured it out, long story.”

“Oh, come on, it’s the most interesting thing that’s happening in his hotel anyway.”

Raisa smiles and shuffles closer to me. “Okay. So I followed her on Instagram and she posted pictures from a hotel a few weeks ago, in a jacuzzi.”

“And how does that prove anything?”

“It must’ve been at the hotel that Matteo’s family owns.”

I look at her with a ‘bitch please’ face. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Yes, but a few days later she posted a story again with a bouquet of roses for her birthday and tagged him in it, even though he didn’t repost it.”

“I mean…okay, maybe. Or maybe they just have history and they like coming back to each other because they’re comfortable.” I tell her, speaking out of experience.

During the last few months that I kept going back to Jamie even though we were broken up, I wasn’t going back to him because I wanted him back. I was going back because I was horny and lonely sometimes and he was just there.

But I also remember being in Raisa’s shoes when we used to date, how I would overthink every time he followed someone new on Instagram or when a girl was too friendly when we were out.

“I don’t know. Either way, I’m done with him.” she tells me, even though it seems like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.

I raise my glass to her. “I support that decision.”

She smiles and takes her glass too, knocking it against mine. We look out across the room where people are dancing and talking a bit too loud now that the alcohol has sunken in.

“Who knows.” She trails off, nodding towards the scene. “Maybe we’ll find a hot Russian businessman here.”

I look around the room, looking for my dad. I haven’t seen him since we arrived a few hours ago and made a toast thanking everyone for being here. After a few minutes of silence, she asks me what we’re doing for New Year’s, even though we’ve talked about it before.

“Isabella invited me to Italy-oh, I need to reply to her. But yeah, we’re going to that party in Moscow, right? With your friends from middle school?”

I knew some of the faces we would spend time with when we were younger before I went off to boarding school in America. Most of the people we grew up with stayed in Moscow and continued their studies here as well. There was always someone we knew even by association who had something going on when we were back home in Russia.

Raisa nods and I remind myself to answer Isabella’s text. Honestly, I would love to go to Italy and escape the rough Russian winter weather for a couple of days, but the plans were made weeks ago and there’s no way I can get to Italy on such short notice, especially during the holidays.

Valentina: I’d love to

Valentina: but I’m in Russia and I can’t come to Italy

Isabella: ☹ okay, see you at uni bitchhh

I smile. I miss her.

***

When I open my eyes on Christmas morning and turn my head to look outside (I’d fallen asleep without bothering to close the curtains) I see the snow has fallen all over our backyard. Everything is white, and the sky is a light gray, which always makes me feel...meh. I miss the sun.

Christmas morning always goes down like usual. My mother is up before I even think about waking up, cooking with some of her friends while sharing a glass of wine while my father is holed up somewhere in his office taking calls that he shouldn’t at this time of the year. Adrik always sits on the couch in the living room by the Christmas tree, waiting to open his presents already.

I don’t bother dressing up so I just throw one of my satin robes over my pajamas, grab my phone, then head downstairs. The entire family is supposed to join us for lunch, but there are a couple of hours left until they’re supposed to arrive, which means the dress code is non-existent until then. I don’t find Adrik in the living room as usual, so I go back upstairs after grabbing a banana from the kitchen, headed to his room.

“Do you ever knock?!” he asks, sitting up straight on his couch. The way he’s holding the phone in his hand tells me that he’s on the phone with someone.

“Am I interrupting something?” I ask and step into his room.

“I’m on the phone.”

“With who?”

“None of your business.”

I raise my eyebrows. “With your girlfriend?”

“Fuck off Valentina.” He says, covering the phone with his hand, as if it would help. “Why are you so grumpy?”

“Get out of my room and close the door!” he repeats, standing up. I raise my hands in defense, stepping out of his room.

“Jesus, what got up your ass?”

He marches over and slams the door in my face.

“I know, right?” I hear him say to whoever he’s talking to and I flip off the door before I look around the hallway.

Problem: I’m bored.

Solution: ?

I hear voices coming from the end of the hallway, where my dad’s office is located, so I smile and decide to go see what he’s up to. I know better than to enter without knocking, so I press my ear against the door to see if he’s on a business call.

“How are we going to handle this?” someone asks. It’s a man’s voice, someone I don’t recognize.

“I don’t want anyone to do anything about it until I know all the facts.”

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding Kiryl, you know it.”

“I don’t know anything yet. Let’s wait it out and see.”

“If someone else dies, we’re going to have bigger problems.”

“Then let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again.” My dad says in his serious voice and I step away from the door.

Who died? What?

“What are you doing?”

I spin around to look at my mother standing at the top of the stairs with a plate in hand.

“Uh…” I say, stepping further away from the office so my dad won’t hear I’m there. “I was just going to see what dad was doing.”

“He has a meeting.”

“On Christmas Day?”

Mom shakes her head and walks up to me. “He’s going to be done soon, but emergencies happen.” She places her hand on my face, gently stroking it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not.”

But who died?

“Guests will arrive at three, dress nicely.”

I roll my eyes and she smiles, kissing my temple.

***

The party is at a townhouse in what most people call “The Golden Mile” area of the city which is close to the Kremlin. It's very well known for the fact that it houses Moscow’s richest and most influential people: billionaires, politicians, businessmen, and celebrities.

When I was younger, I would stare at the buildings as I walked by, wishing I’d live in one of those townhouses one day. But ever since we’ve moved out of the city to a gated community in Zhukovka on the outskirts of Moscow, I don’t regret it one bit. Nothing beats waking up on Christmas morning in my own room with a view of our gardens covered in snow.

Back when we were celebrating Christmas in our apartment in those communist type building blocks it was always too noisy and too cold-but I was happy. I was happy even when I would cut out photos of my dream houses and dresses that I wished to wear someday and use them to make collages. I guess I was manifesting my life before I was even aware of what that meant.

A girl I knew from middle school greets us after we’ve rung the bell and places two drinks in our hands as soon as we take off our coats. I’m pretty sure her name is Sasha, but then again, I was flying under the radar in middle school due to confidence issues. I only knew the names of the popular kids, which everyone knew and talked about.

“This is Sasha’s boyfriends’ place, Rick. I think you might also know him from school. He was in the year above us.”

I nod as if I have any recollection of all these people Raisa is telling me about, but I am very good with faces and numbers so I can remember 90% of people here by face and could tell you all the birthdates in my class. But names? Never good with names.

The townhouse is three stories high and even though it’s freezing cold outside, some people choose to smoke outside on the terrace overlooking the city. After a few drinks, I am also one of those people, so Raisa follows me outside into a corner so we can smoke cigarettes.

She shows me an Instagram story. It’s a photo of Matteo and Vinnie on a balcony. “He’s so hot, ugh.”

“Matteo?” I ask, trying to focus solely on our conversation. “Are you still talking to him then?”

She nods, taking a sip from her drink. “Well, we have sex. Good sex.”

“The best of your life?”

She thinks about it for a second before she nods. “Yes. He definitely knows what he’s doing.”

I don’t know how to continue this conversation, but it turns out that I don’t need to because she keeps talking. “How many girls do you think he’s slept with?”