Nicky paced around the kitchen table. It was unusual that she was up before Red, but last night had triggered memories Red had pushed so far down that when they had resurfaced, they had taken a lot of energy to process. When her phone rang for the third time since she'd woken up, Nicky snatched the phone up to ignore it.

Her fingers trembled as she waited for the voicemail to come through, and when it finally did, she pressed it to her ear. Marka's voice came screaming out at her.

"Nicky, you can't dodge my calls forever! I am your mother and I am worried about you."

Nicky scoffed. If she really cared, she would be looking. Searching the ends of the earth. Yet she was nowhere to be found. As per usual.

"At least let me know where you are. You hardly have any of your things. Where are you sleeping? I know you think I don't care, Nicky, but…" Marka's voice broke off as a sob caught in her throat.

The emotion in her mother's voice did nothing to evoke a reaction from Nicky; she stayed still and stoic and silent, her face a blank. Indeed, her silence was the first thing Red noticed as she opened up her bedroom door.

"I do care about you. Not everything is black and white in the world. One day, you might understand."

Nicky slammed the phone down on the table. Marka's voice still parroted away, but it was too quiet and far away for Nicky to hear it. It had been that way for Nicky's whole life - why change it now? The blonde sighed, fingers raking through messy, unwashed hair.

Red tiptoed behind her. Truthfully, Nicky could hear the shuffle of her slippers before she was behind her, but she didn't turn around. Marka had a way of draining her of energy, even after a long night's sleep.

"Troubles?" she asked, her eyebrows raising. She placed a hand on Nicky's shoulder. "Sorry. I wasn't eavesdropping. Well, maybe a little - but my ears aren't what they used to be, so I didn't hear anything."

"Mm," Nicky said, shaking her head. She cut Marka's voicemail off mid-stream, slipping the phone into the pocket of her pajamas. "No. Everything's fine."

"You sure?" Red said, pouring herself a mug of coffee. She gestured to the coffee maker. "Thanks for starting it up."

Nicky offered a smile, but that was it.

Red took a seat across from Nicky. Taking a sip from her coffee, Red weighed up whether Nicky looked to be in a sharing mood. She didn't, but it was worth a try. "Who was on the phone?"

"No-one," Nicky said tightly, her fingers curling up under the table. Upon realizing that her answer was probably the most curious one she could offer, she shrugged offhandedly. "It was just some spam call."

Red nodded, picking up a magazine to feign uninterest. Both of them knew she didn't believe it, neither of them were willing to say anything further. Everyone had their secrets.

Dmitri pads out of the bedroom next. He yawned lazily, and then sat down at the table. Both women were thankful of the distraction.

"Galina, why don't you put on some breakfast for us all?" he said, filling up his own coffee mug to the brim.

Red's eyebrows shot upwards. She crossed her legs, flicking through the magazine she'd picked up. "Why don't you look twenty years younger?"

Of all the answers Nicky was expecting, that wasn't one of them. She burst out laughing, gaining a dark stare from Dmitri.

"I could ask you the same question," he said, sipping from his coffee. He reached over to squeeze her hand. To Nicky's surprise, she didn't pull away. Instead, she let him brush his thumb over the back of her hand affectionately.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," she warned. But she placed the magazine down. "Bacon, or eggs?"

What struck Nicky was the lack of anger in their exchange. They both looked indifferent to one another's words, as if it were water off a duck's back. Maybe that's what love was.

"Bacon," he replied instantly. He rubbed a thumb over his chin and glanced to Nicky before continuing. "You know, Yuri phoned last night."

"Oh?" Red said, pulling a pack of bacon from the fridge and looping an apron over her head. She peeled it from the packet and placed it into a pan. When it began to sizzle she turned, leaning on the countertop. "What did he say?"

"He said him and his brothers were overdue a visit," he said. "He's not wrong. It's been months since we've seen them."

"Busy lives," Red said with a weary sigh. She picked up a spatula to turn the bacon. "To be young, hmm?"

"All three are coming later today, for dinner."

Red dropped the spatula. It clattered down onto the stovetop. "They're coming today?"

"Is that a problem, Galina?" he asked. He sighed. "I know you haven't told them yet. I mentioned...the situation, when he rang."

Red balled up the apron, her fists clenched. "You did?"

"Yes."

The smell of burnt bacon began to float through the air, and, not knowing what else to do, Nicky jumped up and turned the stove off.

"Are they...mad?" Red asked. She wrung her hands, still totally oblivious to the bacon though it smoldered. It was an understatement to say that losing Tricia had been hard on them. It had devastated them, like it had Red. They had lost their sister, and Red still felt responsible for their grief and loss.

"They're worried."

"I can leave you two to it," Nicky interjected, scratching an eyebrow awkwardly. "I'll just be…" she paused. "Anywhere but here."

"No, stay," Red said. She looked to Dmitri. "I want you at the dinner too."

"You do?" Nicky said. She sat back down, looking between husband and wife uncomfortably. She was beginning to think she was the problem. "Why?"

"I want my sons to meet you."

Nicky baulked. "You realize I'm gay?"

"What?" Red asked, her tone harsh. Realization dawned, and she laughed uneasily. "I don't want to set you up, Nicky! I just...I want you to be a part of the family."

"Oh."

"Will you be there?" Red asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

Nicky shrugged. To be truthful, most of her time was spent here now anyway, so it made no real difference to her. "Can I have some of that bacon? I like it crispy."

Red blinked at Nicky. She'd expected more of a fight, more pleading...not a blind acceptance. Maybe she hadn't realized how important it was to Red, but she nodded quickly, passing her the pan and a plate. "Sure, of course honey."

Nicky could sense something important was afoot later than evening. It hung in the air, a significance that she couldn't place but that felt so acute. It made her feel nervous.

Red had spent hours in the kitchen. Not that it was unusual for her to do so, but tonight there was no humming or singing. Tonight there was a lot of cursing, both in Russian and English, and intense staring at recipe books. It was unnerving, and Nicky tapped her foot at the table as she waited for the company to arrive.

When the doorbell finally rang, Red jumped up from kneeling at the oven. "That'll be them!" she sung, clearly happy to see her boys finally.

A sad smile formed on Nicky's lips. Her own mother had never been happy to see her. In fact, quite the opposite. It was a welcome change, and she too stood.

"Boys, come in!" Red said. She hugged each of them in turn. "I missed all of you so much." Her happiness radiated out of her, and she turned to Nicky. "Nicky, these are my boys."

"Hi," Nicky said with a grin. "It's really nice to meet you. Red's told me all about you."

Maxim gave a little wave, Yuri nodded and Vasily offered a tight lipped smile. Aside from that, they said nothing, and skirted round Nicky to sit at the table where she once sat. The blonde stood, a little dumbfounded, but turned round to sit back down at the table.

"I'll just call your father," Red said, smoothing down Vasily's hair as she swept past. "Dmitri! Dinner is being served!" She turned to the rest of her family. "He was making a business call. We might have a new supplier. Big discount," she added.

Dmitri came out of the bedroom with a grin on his face. "Boys! The place looks better with you in it. And we're celebrating, I got the deal with our new suppliers!"

The boys whooped a congratulations for their father, and each hugged him in turn. Nicky watched from the sidelines, but looked happy enough.

Red watched her family as she walked over to the oven, ready to pull out the meal and all of its trimmings. Her heart was bursting with pride and love. It was already going better than she could have hoped.

Red dropped a plate by each person before sitting down with her own plate. She beamed up at her boys, gave a little smile to Nicky, and began to eat.

"Now tell me, boys, how is the business going?"

"Well," Maxim said, his mouth already full. "There's a lot of demand for movers at the minute."

"There always will be," Dmitri said, nodding his head. He was proud of his boys for starting their own business, their own legacy. After all, that was the reason he'd moved to America to begin with - the land of the free was brimming with opportunity.

"You should go to the upper east side," Nicky said, licking her lips. "They're good tippers."

"You work there?" Maxim said, dabbing at his face with a napkin.

Yuri snickered beside him, looking Nicky up and down. It was the first time in a long time she'd bothered putting on any makeup, and whilst it was a little heavy, she felt like her old self again. Not junkie Nicky, just regular old Nicky.

"I don't think they have many street corners up there."

Nicky coughed on the water she was drinking, and Red slammed her knife down onto the table. Nicky tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, completely aghast.

The older woman let out a string of curses, at which all three boys winced. Dmitri placed down his knife and fork, and waited for his wife to take the lead.

Her hand immediately came behind Yuri's head, smacking down hard. "I did not raise you to talk to women like that! If you ever fucking say, anything like that to anyone, ever again, let alone Nicky, I don't want to tell you what I'll do to you."

Yuri stood. "I can't sit here and play happy families! Not like this. Not again!" His voice was filled with vitriol, but his eyes weren't angry. They were filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Ma," he said, his throat catching. "But I can't do this again."

Red's fist unclenched. He hadn't meant it. She knew that - and that is why her anger subsided as quickly as it had descended.

"Apologize to Nicky, please."

Nicky was still staring at her plate, the fork so tightly clenched that it was cutting into her palm. "Oh, you don't have - "

Red cut her off. "Yes, he does."

Yuri ground his jaw, and still didn't sit down. He looked down at Nicky. "I'm sorry, Nicky," he said. And he meant it - it wasn't Nicky's fault. Not really. But how could he look at her and not see Tricia? She had been his loss too.

"Nicky is here to stay. So you'd better start off on a better foot than that."

"I thought we raised you to be welcoming to people in our family," Dmitri said. He looked to his son, all the pride of a few moments ago gone.

Yuri didn't seem to register his father. Instead, he looked to his mother with desperation in his eyes.

"Ma, not again," Yuri said, his voice terse. His jaw twitched as he tried not to let the anger build up. "You're going to destroy this family. Again."

Dmitri stood up, matching his son's stance. He glanced down at Nicky, feeling a surge of protectiveness. He knew why his son was so worried; he had been, too. But shutting her out wasn't the answer. Their mother was no pushover.

"I know you don't understand," Red said evenly, putting her fork down and meeting Yuri's eye. "But this is something your father and I have chosen to do. I help Nicky, and she helps me."

"Doesn't she have a mom of her own?" Vasily asked. "Or does she want nothing to do with you either?"

"Actually, she called this morning," Nicky said quietly. She pushed her plate away, no longer hungry nor willing to sit there and be berated by people she barely knew. "Red, I'll be back later..if you want me." She stood up, and yanked her jacket from the back of her chair.

"Nicky, please-"

"By the way." Nicky turned to Vasily, cutting Red off mid-sentence. "You have no idea how lucky you are. Red is this family. And you are so lucky to have been born into it." She fought tears as she fled the apartment, leaving the family alone.

When the door slammed, Red turned to her boys. "I wanted to have a nice family dinner," she said. "I cooked all afternoon, so you could all have your favorites. So help yourselves, boys. Yuri, there's cheesecake in the fridge. Maxim, the main course is in the oven. Your mama's famous lasagna. I hope you enjoy it. And Vasily, your father was going to make rootbeer floats later. Maybe he will. But I'm not going to sit around and eat, because I've lost my appetite."

She stood and squeezed Dmitri's shoulder. "I will see you tonight."

Red had never liked flowers.

Whenever Dmitri brought her a bunch home when their boys were little, her blue eyes would roll and she'd slam the vase down a little too hard on the counter when she'd filled it with fresh water. She didn't like watching flowers go from vibrant and beautiful to wilting. She hated watching them die.

Years later, he'd bought her a window box filled with petunias and fuschias, and for the first time in their marriage, her eyes lit up at the gift. It still flowered now, reminding her of better times. She didn't look at it much anymore.

Yet there she stood, begrudgingly handing over ten bucks for a bunch that were already a little curled up and browning. She sighed as the cashier rang them up and clutched them to her chest as she exited the little store.

It wasn't much, but then she had never asked for much. Red swallowed hard as the cemetery came into view. It was always hard walking through that gate, but she did it.

"I can't believe it's almost been three years," Red whispered as she knelt in front of the grave. There was only a simple wooden cross to mark her grave, and as much as it pained her to see, it was all that she could - and ever would be able to - afford.

The muscles in her back screamed at her to stand back up, her lower back especially. She ignored the pain, groaning softly as she finally got to her knees. Propping the flowers up on the cross, Red sighed.

"I know you liked yellow best, but they only had orange," she lamented. Her hand grazed the cross, and it jolted her how cold it felt. "I know I should visit more often," Red admitted, brushing some unruly hair back. "But it's so quiet here." Red looked to the floor, feeling the grass blurring with tears. Her jaw worked as she fought tears. "And..it was never quiet with you around."

Red pulled some weeds from around the cross. "The gardeners here are shit," she complained. "I don't know what they're paying them for. I'll have to send Yuri over here. He always did anything for you...you know, he wanted a baby sister." She chuckled. "I was done after three, though. Fate has a way of working things out, anyway. He got you, didn't he?" She paused. "And...and now Nicky."

The older woman brushed her hands off. She looked to the sky, watching as droplets fell from the gray misery above her. "I'm not trying to replace you." She chewed on her lip, the guilt rising in her chest. "I know that's what they all think, but I'm not. Maybe I shouldn't have been so harsh on them. They just miss you, I know that." Red swallowed hard. "I'll make it up to them. Or..I'll try."

Leaves crunched behind her, and Red turned. Nicky stood a few feet away, her face unreadable. She'd taken the makeup off, and her eyes were red. Red sighed.

"I went back home," Nicky said. "And Dmitri said I'd find you here."

The word home made Red's heart sing, and though everything felt wrong, in that moment something was right. It counted for a lot, and Red nodded.

"I should have told you," Red said. She stroked the flowers she'd laid down previously, doing anything so that she didn't have to look at Nicky. "They're not angry at you. They're angry at me."

"They're not angry," Nicky said reproachfully. "They're grieving. There's a difference."

"I know."

Nicky looked past Red to the grave. "You must miss her."

"I do," Red said truthfully. She twisted her wedding band round her finger, exhaling. "She deserved better than this. Better than me," she said. When Red looked up, her glassy eyes were brimming with tears.

Nicky shook her head. "She was lucky to have you. I meant what I said. All your kids are lucky to have you."

Red stared at Nicky. Her heart ached, for both the child in the ground, and the child standing in front of her that badly needed a mother. If only she knew that she already thought of her as one of her own. Another one of her cubs. Instead of saying anything remotely like that, in fear of scaring the poor girl off, Red shook her head. "You don't know what happened."

"No," Nicky agreed. "But I know you."

That earned a smile from Red. It felt wrong that Red was sharing this moment with her, and she was hiding something. So Nicky continued. "It wasn't a spam call this morning."

"No?" Red asked, like she didn't already know that.

"It was Marka...you know. My mom," she said.

Red nodded. She hated thinking of these women - the women who chose others over their children, the ones who just let them go without a second thought. But Nicky clearly wanted to talk about her, so she looked up. "And?"

"She was asking where I was."

A little late, Red thought. She straightened the flowers on the grave. "Mm."

"I think I owe it to her," Nicky said after a beat.

Red looked up in alarm. "You owe her nothing," she spat. She had nothing but disdain for mothers like Marka.

Nicky crossed her ankles. It hadn't been the response she'd been expecting. "So...you don't think I should phone her back?" Nicky asked uncertainly. She looked to Red, her brow furrowed.

Red shifted positions. Maybe it was selfishness, maybe she wanted Nicky all to herself. Maybe she couldn't handle sharing her. Or maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her deep down that was petrified of losing another daughter. So she shook her head.

"No. No, I don't think you should."

A/N:

A little longer of an update today. I hope you liked it. Thanks so much for all the reviews. You're all very sweet!

Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter...I love hearing them.

Be happy!

- Star xo