Angel

Chaper 5

Dedushka

"Whoops." Viktor used a paper towel to clean up the milk Yuri had spilled from his cereal bowl. "Let's clean that up. See? No harm done." Yuri sat frozen in his highchair seat, staring at the little pool of milk on the pale yellow tray, and Yuuri made sure to stroke his hair while Viktor wiped up the spill. The boy had lived with them for a few weeks and had opened up and relaxed quite a bit, but there were still some behavioral issues they were working through and likely would be working through for a long time.

As always, food was a problem for the boy. He could finally eat solid food now, but had no self-control. Yuuri and Viktor had to be careful about how much food they gave him. No amount of reassurances that there would be more than enough food for later was able to convince Yuri to slow down when he ate or stop when he was full. To try to keep the child from making himself sick, Viktor and Yuuri served him tiny portions of food several times a day. Once he became accustomed to saying no to food when he was full, they would start to acclimate him to more regulated meal times.

Spills caused another problem for the boy. As a three-year-old, Yuri was a messy eater, so occasional spills and messes were bound to happen. However, the toddler was intent on eating the spilled food and got anxious whenever anyone cleaned it up instead of giving it back to him.

"It's okay, Yura," Yuuri reassured the boy when Viktor threw the soaked paper towel away. "Look. You still have some cereal left. Do you want some more milk for it?" He pressed the little spoon into Yuri's hand again to get his attention.

The child's fingers curled around the utensil automatically, and he blinked. "Milk," Yuri repeated with a nod and got back to finishing his afternoon snack.

Yuuri's phone rang as he poured some more milk into Yuri's bowl. Viktor took the phone out of his husband's back pocket. "It's Mrs. Lodovskya," he told him before answering it. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Lodovskya. How are you today?"

"Viktor, hello," the case worker greeted. He could hear the soft murmur of chatter in the background and the sound of a printer working noisily. The new foster parents had yet to visit the woman at her office, but the place always seemed abuzz with activity. "I'm doing fine, thanks. I thought I was calling Yuuri's number, but no matter, so long as I reach one of you. How is little Yuri doing?"

"He's doing well," the coach answered, a little confused. Mrs. Lodovskya, while a wonderful and helpful case worker, had never called solely to check up on the boy. "He just got up from his nap, and now we're having an afternoon snack before dinner."

"Excellent. I could use a snack about now, too, or a nap," she laughed. "I won't keep you long, but I wanted to let you know I heard from Nikolai Plisetsky, Yuri's grandfather, this morning."

"Oh?" Viktor knew very little about the child's grandfather, just like the rest of Yuri's family, besides the fact that he was retired and lived in a nursing home. And, of course, that he had been the one to report the mother for neglecting Yuri in the first place. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes, yes, he's fine. He wanted to know how his grandson was. I didn't give him your phone number, of course, but I know he would like to talk to you and Yuuri and meet the people taking care of his grandchild."

"We'd love to meet him too!" Viktor gushed, and Yuuri eyed him warily. The older man had a bad habit of committing to plans without checking with his husband to make sure it was something they could actually do. Viktor didn't catch the look and bustled around the kitchen looking for pen and paper. "Do you have his number on you? I'll call right away and set something up."

"I have it here somewhere. Let me see." After much rustling of paper, she recited the phone number to the silver-haired man. "Just to let you know," Mrs. Lodovskya said, "Mr. Plisetsky lives in Moscow. You should take that into consideration before committing to a visit."