Nice Day For A White Wedding

“Come and join us,” Babushka invites as Alex takes his drink.

Alex leads us towards an unoccupied sofa. It could have been the only quirky item in the room since the upholstery was printed with Matryoshka dolls.

Next to us is Anastasia and Petra and on the sofa opposite is a man and a woman I don’t recognize.

“Cindy, this is my daughter, Marina, and her husband, Viktor,” Babushka says, nodding at the couple.

I smile and say hello to them and they both return my smile, but say nothing. They certainly aren’t as welcoming as Babushka, but at least they aren’t as frosty as the ice sisters.

“This is Cindy, Alex’s fiancée,” Babushka announces joyfully, and I feel another pang of guilt at deceiving the proud old woman.

I remind myself we’re only doing it to make her happy.

“Fiancée huh?” Viktor grins at Alex. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d settle down.”

“Never met the right woman before,” Alex says, turning to smile adoringly at me.

Jesus, that smile. I swallow hard and return what I hope is an equally adoring smile. I must have succeeded because something flashed in his eyes before he veiled and turned back to the rest of his family.

Petra says something in Russian and Anastasia laughs. I don’t know what she said, but it’s enough to make both her parents give her dirty looks.

“I’ve already told you we’ll be speaking in English while we have our guest here,” Babushka reprimands sternly. It is clear she didn’t like the girl’s remark either.

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, Babushka. I forgot that the English can only speak their own language because literally everyone else has to learn it,” Petra says with an innocent smile that is anything but innocent.

“Petra,” Babushka snaps.

“It’s fine.” I throw a reassuring smile at Babushka before I turn to Petra. “I know exactly what you mean. So many English people don’t make the effort to learn other languages. It’s very lazy of us as a nation, but our excuse is everyone speaks enough English to make communication possible. However, personally, I speak French, Spanish, Italian and just about enough German to get by. How many other languages do you speak? Since you seem to have an interest in them.”

Then I give Petra a smile that is about as innocent as hers was.

“Just Russian and English,” she mumbles, not meeting my eye.

“Oh,” I murmur, feigning surprise. “Oh well, I’m sure that’s enough to get by. As you said, everyone learns English, don’t they?”

Petra’s face sports an unattractive shade of red and she scowls at me.

When Babushka hides a smile I know I’ve just won a few more points with her … and I’ve shown Alex I can handle his family. Petra mutters something else in Russian, too quiet for Babushka to hear her. I’m sure it’s nothing complimentary.

“Please excuse our daughter,” Marina says to me, as she glances uncomfortably at Babushka. “She’s a little awkward around strangers.”

I take a sip of my drink. “Oh, please don’t worry on my account. I’m sure we’ll be great friends by the end of the week,” I lie smoothly. I can’t quite get a measure of Marina. Is she apologizing for her mother’s benefit, or is she’s genuinely sorry for her daughter’s appalling rudeness?

Another manservant comes in, bows, and says something in Russian. Babushka rises gracefully. “Dinner is served. Viktor, will you escort me in?”

Viktor quickly moves towards her and she slips her hand into the crook of his elbow. It is obvious that is the role usually played by Alex. I look up at Alex as I feel Alex’s hand land lightly on the small of my back. He smiles down at me and a strange thought pops into my head.

How nice if this was all real?

As quickly as it came, I push it away. With his hand guiding me, we make our way towards the imposing dining room.

Cindy

The long grand table is set with fancy silverware. There seems to be an array of cutlery, but I have already decided that I will carefully follow whatever Alex does. I am seated between Viktor and Babushka and opposite Alex. The ice sisters are next to each other and Marina is next to Alex. Without Alex by my side I start to feel a tinge of nervousness, but when I catch his eyes he winks at me and suddenly I know I can do it. White wine is respectfully poured into my glass by a manservant. I smile my thanks and he nods gravely.

“Tonight, we’ll be eating British food in honor of Cindy’s presence,” Babushka announces.

“Great. Fish and chips and soggy beef pies then,” Petra sniggers.

Everyone ignores her as three more manservants troop into the room carrying silver serving platters with dome lids. When all the platters are on the table, the main headwaiter announces, “Potted crab with a hint of smoked paprika.”