Lucy
In the car, I arrange my purse on my lap, digging in it for some lip balm. I swear, pregnancy makes my lips drier than the desert despite the fact that I drink and drink all day long.
I’m still emotional from seeing my dad and mixed up about Ravil.
“I have a present for you,” Ravil says.
“You do?” It’s funny how the promise of an unexpected gift has an instant lightening effect. Some carryover from childhood when gifts meant everything, I’m sure.
Ravil reaches into the back seat and produces a white box with a pretty light blue bow.
“What is it?”
Ravil’s smile is indulgent. His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Open it.”
I tug the ends of the silky ribbon, and they unravel and fall open. I take the lid off and peer inside. “Matryoshka dolls!” I lift out a beautiful wooden doll pai
