Roman
I just can’t wait to hear this.
“Varya, I’m sorry if I interrupted you,” Nina chirrups into the phone. “Do you maybe have popcorn somewhere?”
I don’t hear the reply, but I can imagine Varya’s face. I’m pretty sure that no one ever saw popcorn in this house. We have bombs, a few crates of grenades, and a ton of ammunition in the garage. But no popcorn.
“Yes, popcorn . . . Well, to eat. We are watching a movie.” She listens to Varya’s response. “What do you mean ‘who’s we’? Me and Roman.” Another pause, and then, “Yes, Varya, I am serious . . . No, that’s not necessary, . . . I . . . Okay, thank you.”
She places the phone on the table, looks down at me, and makes a disgusted face. “There is no popcorn, but she’ll bring us peanuts. I hate those, but she is eager to come over.”
