By the time my plane finally landed at Roshchino International Airport in the Tyumen Oblast region of Siberia, I was completely disoriented from the time difference. I’d already changed the appropriate settings in my phone, and it reflected 3 P.M in the afternoon. Meanwhile, my internal clock reminded me I should be getting ready for bed instead of moving around awake. Too nervous to sleep much, I think I got a total of four hours throughout the entire trip. Which isn’t great, considering I’ve been on three different planes in the last twenty six hours. Leaning my head against the window, I stared in amazement at the vast blanket of snow covering everything in sight. It’s a good thing I remembered to change during my last layover, because the thin jeans and flimsy hoodie I left Arizona in wouldn’t cut it in this weather. I’d be a frozen popsicle before Andrei had a chance to greet me. As the plane came to a complete stop, a tall blond-haired atten

“What’s this say, detka?” Vasha had my passport laid out on the perfectly made up bed we’d been staying in for almost fifteen hours straight, and pointed at my middle name. Andrei woke us up ten minutes ago with the promise of porridge and sliced rye bread, which I was excited to try. Figuring we’d be leaving soon, I was hoping to have all my things ready to go, but Vasha had gotten to them first and was curiously pulling my identification out to study it closely.“Alice. My middle name is Alice, little bat.” Most people I met were indifferent to their middle names or just simply didn’t have one, but I loved mine. I smiled at her, watching as she ran her fingers over the glossy photo gingerly.“Beautiful.” She mummered, tossing the document back into my carry on bag and started getting dressed for the day. Choosing a pair of distressed blue jeans and her Siberian tiger sweater, she finger brushed her short bla

I’ve always known Vasha to be docile and quiet. She’s soft spoken, and thinks long and hard before she says anything...the only exception being when she’s drunk. That’s why I thought it was strange that she seemed on edge tonight, and I didn’t know what to make of it. With her phone still untouched on the coffee table, I mentally began ruling out any possibilities of her hearing from Olya in the half hour we’d been getting everything ready to bake. Coming up empty, I built up the courage to strike up a conversation.“Detka, do you want to talk about anything?” I was sitting on a barstool facing Andrei’s spacious kitchen island, watching Vasha roughly pound and roll a generous pile of raw gingerbread cookie dough. I’d given up on helping when it became clear I was just getting in the way. The kitchen is no place for me to begin with. I’m a lot more comfortable as a spectator.“Fine. Why do you ask?&

“I’ll call you everyday to check in. Are you sure you’ll be alright here?” Andrei asked hastily as Vasha fumbled to unlock her bolted front door. It really was something, with a digital programmed code and everything. She shook from the cold and stomped a boot clad foot impatiently.“Yes, if the door opens before you return to Tobolsk.” She turned around to find me shivering my tits off. “Detka, wait in the car. This damn snow will freeze you to death.”“I-I’m alright...” I chattered, huddling close to Andrei. He threw an arm around me comfortingly and laughed in merriment. His vibrant green eyes twinkled the same way Vasha’s did when she was excited.“Before you know it, you’ll both be warm and cozy. Look, she’s got it open. Let’s move along inside.”He didn’t have to tell me twice.We managed to lug everything in with one

One month later“Great work this week, Francine. Enjoy those glorious two days off!” The middle aged Sicilian owner of my new workplace, Joey Alfonsi, looked up from the cash he was counting to watch me scurry out the back doors before anyone could ask me for another favor. I’d already been here an hour past quitting time as it was. I took a bite out of my baguette and gave him a two finger salute. I already loved working here, and looked forward to many pleasant years with the small business.“Thanks! See you on Tuesday.” My first morning shift at Joey’s Italian Paradise— which didn’t open until 2:00 P.M for lunch, meant I wasn’t due in until 11:00 A.M after my long weekend.Swell enough for me!Jogging briskly over to my used 2002 white Pontiac Grand Am, I unlocked it and slid into the driver’s side. I’d gotten over my fear of driving and worked hard tow