Lines in Italics were spoken on the show. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy.
Having generally always considered herself as someone who wanted to change the world for the better, it was pretty shocking for Galina to discover just how quickly she could settle into a life of self-interested crime. Unlike when she'd produced illegal jeans in Russia as an act of rebellion against a stringent regime, this time there was no noble cause Galina could claim she was championing. Unless, of course, you counted the security and prosperity of her family, which was the only thing that really mattered now. As a mother, Galina still wanted to believe she was making the right choices for them.
However, right or wrong, good or bad, Galina couldn't deny to herself that the idea of being a part of this conspiracy gave her the same familiar thrill she had experienced when undermining the government in her home country. She'd been so complacent in a life of servitude to her husband and sons for so many years that she did derive a bit of pleasure from doing something that felt so daring. Stepping out of her comfort zone as a well-behaved and traditional woman, Galina couldn't deny that Ganya had ignited in her a validation for being noticed for her intelligence and business contributions. Dmitri just wanted her to keep quiet and do as he said, but now a spark had been lit within her and Galina wanted to show them all how much she was actually capable of.
She was still on the outside though. The docile and submissive wife of Dmitri who had poured all the men their coffee when they'd crowded into her store that frigid afternoon, and then kept well out of the way. Seen but not heard. Only acknowledged when they wanted her to fetch something for them or clean up a spill.
As much as Ganya impressed and fascinated her, Galina was still intimidated by him. He'd been polite to her but she also knew he had done terrible things and wouldn't hesitate to harm anybody who got in his way. He commanded the attention of all the men he'd brought with him as he spoke in a quiet voice that shifted between English and Russian seamlessly and seemed to exude danger despite sounding very calm.
Ganya talked as though he had nothing to hide. He paid no mind to the steady flow of customers who had decided to brave the cold to do their shopping, but continued to discuss his illegal dealings quite inconspicuously as patrons passed his table, made small-talk with Galina, and left with their purchases. It was part of Ganya's brilliance. Act like you have nothing to hide and nobody will suspect a thing.
The only person who was really concentrating on the men seated at the round table was Galina herself. She'd barely spoken a word to them all day and for all the notice they took of her, she may as well have not even have been present. Yet, the private word Ganya had shared with her in her office several weeks ago was still weighing heavily on her mind. She wondered what the response would have been should she have pulled up a chair and simply joined them, something she hadn't been able to muster up the courage to try yet. There probably would have been outrage, particularly from her husband who liked her to stay it her place, but Ganya had all but invited her. And, listening in to the conversation he was having with his regular cronies now, Galina couldn't say she'd blamed him.
The atmosphere at the table was somber. None of the men seemed to be in good spirits or very chatty moods. They sat silently, their hands twitching as they brought their coffee and sweets to their lips and exchanged nervous glances with one another when Ganya wasn't looking. Their boss was lost in his own thoughts, forlorn about his own business misfortune, and none of them knew what to say to him. The men were all to fearful about saying the wrong thing to offer up anything of use. It was the prime inadequacy that Ganya had complained to Galina about, and why he'd said he'd like to hear more from her. She'd already proven herself a smarter asset than her husband.
"I have eighty crates of tomatoes rotting in a Bensonhurst warehouse. Eighty. I lower prices, our competition lowers prices. And like this Neptune's has lost three restaurants in three weeks," Ganya said, waving his hands around dramatically to emphasise the gravitas of this situation.
"Thank you very much," Galina said with a pleasant smile. She passed a bag over the counter to a young woman with long blonde hair. "Try to stay warm."
She motioned to the windows which were frozen over from the frigid air. It had been too cold that week for even snow to fall. What lay on the ground was as hard as a block of ice. You couldn't even scrape up enough of it to mold into an adequate snowball, which was something Yuri, Maxim, and Vasily had been complaining about for days. February had taken away the initial excitement of snow and holidays. Now there was not much else to do besides wait for spring to arrive.
As the woman made her exit, momentarily letting in the harsh wind from outdoors, Galina glanced over at the table the men had been occupying for a couple of hours now and sighed. Ganya seemed to be growing increasingly agitated as the meeting wore on and she was nervous about being in his proximity if he let his well-known temper fly. She knew her husband felt the same way.
"The men who run these restaurants, maybe we meet with them, maybe you make deal to bid the lowest," Dmitri suggested, hunched over the table with his eyes focused intently on Ganya. He wanted so much to be noticed by the formidable man, to be considered higher and more respected than the other mafia goons he was currently grouped in with.
Behind him, Galina rolled her eyes, as she reached for the coffee pot so that she could go offer them all a refill. It shouldn't have bothered her, but lately she'd become more and more irritated by the little sexist remarks that slipped out of her husband's mouth regularly. It annoyed her to hear him say the men ran the restaurants, when she couldn't help but wonder if they too had wives who did everything for the place while they sat around like lumps filled with self-importance.
Dmitri's Russian Market, Dmitri's name was on the sign but that was all that he really contributed. It was his wife who put the time, effort, and intelligence into making them what they were, but since they were married and she'd taken his name, everything she did was an extension of him. Dmitri had no issue with taking credit for her accomplishments. It was why Ganya's acknowledgement had made her feel so validated. She knew as a woman that Ganya considered her beneath him, but he had nonetheless been able to see past her being Mrs. Dmitri Reznikov to recognize that she was the one with the potential to make things happen. She was of more use to him than her husband, and one thing Ganya was undoubtedly skilled in was the art of using people.
"It's not about the prices, it's about the books," Ganya replied, speaking as though he were addressing someone very slow, which was understandable considering the circumstances. After all, their entire life had become about the books. Dmitri and Galina discussed them almost every night, whispering their concerns back and forth while their unsuspecting sons lay sleeping innocently in the next room.
The criminal component of their books was easy to overlook as Galina fell into a routine that felt like just a normal aspect of her business. She made deposits of Ganya's money in amounts that she was comfortable with and altered her records as he instructed. She was basically becoming an expert in the art of money laundering and at wielding it so naturally into her own store's business that she didn't think anyone could suspect a thing. Her confidence in herself was growing, but it didn't surprise her that Dmitri didn't understand.
He had promised to handle things and make them alright for her, but her involvement had become more steadily pronounced in a way he disapproved of. Dmitri didn't want Ganya speaking to her alone and he wanted his wife kept out of the know as much as was possible, which was becoming less and less likely. The cash that Ganya had flowing in and out of Dmitri's Russian Market was something he had little interest in discussing with Dmitri himself. Ganya always went straight to Galina, the one who he trusted to know what she was doing. And although he was forcing her to commit crimes, Ganya's faith in her is something she took a lot of pride in.
"Right," Dmitri nodded, though it was obvious his comprehension of the business was limited. It was partially why he had always left the management of his own store entirely in his wife's hands.
"We have to move product regularly. Then, and only then, we can explain other income," Ganya continued to explain. A large part of being successful in the underground economy was ensuring that their legitimate and legal business was flourishing. Just as Ganya was using the Reznikovs' store, he was also using his own large business, Neptune's Produce, to disguise his illegal dealings. So, if Neptune's was beginning to struggle it meant the whole operation was in jeopardy.
As Galina silently leaned over the table to pour coffee into her husband's cup, she observed the way all the men were nodding their heads in agreement. They reminded her of mindless sheep all sitting there with their blank and complacent expressions. No wonder Ganya complained that they were basically employed "yes, men" who rarely contributed anything substantive. They were all too afraid of contradicting him to really ever have anything useful to contribute.
"Maybe you're not thinking big enough," Galina said, finally vocalizing the idea that had been building in her all afternoon. She could feel a shiver crawl up her back as all eyes turned upon her. The only person's face she really was paying attention to though, was Ganya's. After raising his almost invisible eyebrows in initial surprise, his expression had become unreadable, though it was obvious she had his full attention. Galina gripped the coffee pot a little more tightly in her hand and found the courage to keep going.
"Restaurants come and go, yes? Look at this place. Every week we almost close. But not schools. Not hospitals."
"Galina-" her husband tried to silence her, but Galina stepped more forward and continued to speak. Now that she had found her voice and confidence, she was not about to have him take them. She knew more than he did.
"All I'm saying is, you get something big, something steady, like the Italians have with the garbage, then you're not out chasing bids. My father, he sold candy out of a box. Every day, up and down the street. He walked so much he wore holes in his shoes. Until one day, he passed by an army base, right after the soldiers' lunchtime. And he realized that all he had to do was stand there and open his box. He sold out in minutes. So, he did it again, day after day. There were always soldiers, and there was always lunch, and they always wanted candy bars. No more holes in his shoes."
She stares into Ganya's eyes with a triumphant expression on her face. He had been hanging on her every word while Dmitri looked mortified and the other men ranged from surprised and uncomfortable that she had the nerve to speak out like that. Galina was pretty taken-aback by her own forwardness. Until today she had never really been more than a silent figure in the background, and she was worried that she had done something wrong. Ganya still hadn't responded to her and the room was silent aside from the ticking clock that hung on the wall over the register.
"I need more cream," Dmitri broke the silence, holding up his mug for her to take. It was obvious he wanted her gone, that he was embarrassed she had overridden him and let the other men see what little handle on his wife he really had.
"Of course, honey," Galina replied in Russian. There was a touch of sarcasm in her tone that was easy to overlook, as she once again slipped back into the role of obedient wife that he wanted her to play. Before she turned to go fix her husband's coffee though, she looked back at Ganya who hadn't moved or said anything.
As soon as her back was turned, she could hear Dmitri mocking her to the other men and the ring of light laugher lit around the table. Galina shot a glance over at them from behind the counter and was relieved to see that Ganya hadn't joined in making fun of her, but instead had shot her husband a disapproving look that instantly silenced the cackling men. This helped quell Galina's pounding heart only slightly. She didn't know if Ganya had approved of what she'd done, or if he'd only meant he would come speak to her whenever he wanted to discuss something. She probably shouldn't have just jumped in on the men's' meeting. She should have at least waited until Ganya came to go over the books with her next time. There was an obvious reason why women were not included in his ranks. That wasn't her place and she was nervous of the repercussions for overstepping.
As she returned to the table, the silence was deafening and the defeated slump of Dmitri's spine as she set his coffee before him made it clear that he'd been humbled. There was no precedent for how they were to respond to what his wife had just said, and he was embarrassed about what she had done. It made him feel like less of a man.
"I want to speak with you," Ganya said softly.
Sounds of little bells on the door rung throughout the store, masking her mere squeak. "Me?"
She glanced over at the door to see Vasily walking in. He was bundled up from head to toe, with only his eyes peering out from over the brown knit scarf that was covering the lower half of his face. Galina met his gaze and forced herself to smile reassuringly, as she rung her hands together nervously.
Ganya pushed back his own chair to stand and looked down to address all the men still glued to their seats.
"You can leave," he told them. "We're finished here today."
He didn't have to tell them twice. In a heartbeat, all of his men, except Dmitri, had scrambled out of their chairs and reached for the coats they had hung on the backs. They muttered goodbyes, their relief at finally being excused obvious, and then scurried for the door leaving a mess of coffee mugs and crumbs on the table. They barely acknowledged Vasily as they shuffled past.
"Well, excuse me," Vasily mumbled under his breath. Galina shot him a look of warning that seemed to go unnoticed as he trotted easily over to her side.
"How was school?" Galina asked, as she began to unravel the thick scarf from around him.
"We had an assembly in the afternoon," Vasily told her. "So, I got out of doing my spelling test."
"Until tomorrow," Galina reminded him, as she plucked the hat off of his head and then held a hand out for his mittens.
"Honey, this is Mr. Ivanov," Galina said hesitantly, motioning to Ganya. "Your father works for him…"
"Well…" Ganya chuckled, "in a manner of speaking."
After Vasily worked to shrug off his heavy winter jacket, boots, and snow pants, he held out a hand politely to Ganya as he had been taught to do. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"And what's your name?" Ganya asked, smiling down at him.
"Vasily," he replied gently, as they shook hands. Galina swallowed nervously as she gathered up her son's winter clothing and set it neatly out of the way.
"He must be your youngest boy then?" Ganya looked back over at Galina.
"Yes," Galina nodded. She instinctively held out an arm to beckon Vasily close to her again. He did so automatically, moving to stand in front of her and smiling as he felt her reassuring hands on his shoulders.
"He's my baby," she added, her grip tightening possessively. None of her sons had ever laid eyes upon Ganya and his men and she wished that had never changed. It was beyond her control though. It wasn't like she had the authority to kick any of them out when the end of the school day was coming up.
Vasily frowned slightly and leaned his head back to look up at her. "Not a baby," he corrected.
"Well, you'll always be my baby," Galina replied, with a slight smile. "Where are your brothers? How come they didn't walk you home?"
She thought ten was a little too young to be walking home unaccompanied and expected her sons to stick close together. The two separate schools they attended were situated side-by-side. She was fine with them going off with different friends in the afternoon too, so long as she knew who they were and they let her know what they were doing. However, she'd just seen that Vasily had walked home alone and had she known ahead, she would have met him at the school to accompany him. That was likely exactly why he hadn't told her.
"There was a volleyball game in the gym they wanted to watch," Vasily replied, leaning his back into her as he shot another glance at Ganya who was smiling pleasantly as he watched them. "They told me to stay with them but I didn't want to. I came straight home."
"Well, you should have called me," Galina rebuked him. "You know that."
"Yeah…" Vasily sighed. "Can I have a snack, mama?"
"Okay," Galina nodded. She looked back uncertainly at Ganya, whose last words to her before her son had walked in, was that he wished to speak to her alone.
"Umm…" she glanced back at the table where Dmitri was silently drinking his coffee and not looking at them. He was brooding, and she was about to tell him to hang out with their son so that she could talk privately with Ganya. However, she didn't see how that could work either. She had just told Vasily that Ganya was Papa's boss. Why would she need to be alone with him?
"Business can wait," Ganya told her pleasantly. "Get the boy a snack. If I were you, Vasily, I'd ask for one of those Vatrushka your mother makes so well. I've been eating them all afternoon."
"They're the best," Vasily nodded his agreement. "Can I, Mama?"
"One," Galina replied softly. "So, you don't spoil your supper."
She kept her arm wrapped tightly around Vasily's shoulders as she led him around the counter. He seemed to have relaxed in Ganya's presence, although his curious mind wanted to know why his mother had said he worked with his father, and yet his Papa had not moved or said a word since he'd gotten home. He leaned against Mamochka feeling reassured as she cut gave him a slice and a glass of milk to go with it.
"Would you like another?" She offered Ganya, uncertainty.
"I shouldn't," Ganya replied, "but yes." He stepped casually around the counter to join them like he owned the place. If this was bothering Galina, she gave no indication that it did.
"The food is one of the best things about coming here," Ganya announced.
"A lot of people come here to eat Mama's food," Vasily told him proudly. He wanted to tell him that his mother didn't let people other than he and his brothers behind the counter, and was surprised she didn't tell him herself. However, a feeling inside him stopped him. He correctly sensed that Ganya was a man who could do whatever he wanted.
"I can see why," Ganya replied. "That's why your mother and I are going to talk about her coming to work for me more. I have a very promising offer."
Vasily glanced worriedly up at his mother. "What about the store?" he asked her. Then he looked back at Ganya. "She can't work for you. Papa already does and he's never home. Somebody needs to be home to take care of me and my brothers."
"Smart man," Ganya chuckled, as Galina wordlessly handed him another piece of Vatrushka. He thanked her graciously.
"I promise that your mother working for me won't take her away from you," Ganya told Vasily, placing a strong hand on his arm.
Galina bristled and her eyes narrowed as he touched her son. She didn't like him this close to him. Even if he was being kind, she didn't want Vasily exposed to somebody like him. However, she knew she and Dmitri should have thought about that before they had gotten so involved. Now there was nothing that could be done.
Ganya patted Vasily's arm and then looked over at Galina. A curve of a lip was all the indication he gave that he had sensed her discomfort. Chuckling, he let go of the boy.
"She's going to work from home and mostly when you're at school," Ganya continued to address Vasily. "But it will mean more money. I bet you and your brothers will all be able to go to college someday."
"That's a long way off," Vasily reminded him. "But Mama already said we have to go to college."
"Well, this will make it easier," Ganya promised him. He shook his head in amusement and stuffed the last bite of the pastry into his mouth as he looked round at Dmitri. The Reznikov family patriarch was still seated at the table, watching them all through shifting and nervous eyes. He seemed to be temporarily muted.
"I better get going," Ganya announced to them all. "Let you enjoy your family time."
He looked more carefully at Vasily. "And I'm sorry you felt your father was working so much for me that he didn't have enough time at home with you. I think I'll have to change that."