Dmitry wiped the soggy crackers and puddles of tea off the tabletop, and his wife replaced the teacups with chipped Residence Inn glasses and poured them each a splash of vodka.
“Okay, out with it, you guys,” Lolita said. “What’s the big secret? Am I adopted or something?”
Dmitry chuckled. “You’re too much like your grandfather to be adopted. And you’re a double of my mother as a young woman.” He tried to put on a good face, but his heart was sad. He hadn’t seen his mother in decades, and not a day went by when he didn’t think of her. Nothing could replace her calming presence.
A pounding on the door startled Dmitry, and he jolted up, sending the tiny table with him and their vodka and glasses flying. The table fell to its side. The glasses rolled around on the floor. Dmitry’s heart pou
