Greetings from Russia

Her grandfather’s face lit up the screen and she could absolutely understand why Angie had commented about the man’s nose hair. He was so close to the camera it was frighteningly displaying every pore on his ruddy skin.

“Dedulya,” she made a face from where she sat on Rin’s lap, embarrassed he wouldn’t let her up and had insisted she stay seated right where she was while the call connected. “You need to back up from the screen. It’s too much. It’s an entire wall of your face. It is a face I love but I want to see less of just it and more of you as a whole.”

He leaned back in his seat and adjusted the camera, “better?”

“Yes.”

“You look comfortable,” he gave a pointed look to where she sat behind Rin’s desk.

“Not particularly,” she didn’t bother to lie.

“Then why sit there?”

“Her choices have been removed for the day,” Rin said bluntly. “It is a personal matter we are working through.”

“May I remind you Rin, she is my granddaughter.”

“