"Why have you been sneaking around for the last hour, Dimka?" Viktoria asked.
I turned to look at her, the conspicuous bundle of sheets in my arms impossible to hide. "Just getting an early start on laundry, Vika. I wanted to surprise Mama by doing some extra chores," I told her, flawlessly disguising my covering up my evidence of soiled bedding with a selfless attempt to help around the house.
"Aren't those the same sheets that were on your bed last night? And isn't that the pair of pajama pants you wore to bed last night sticking out of the pile there?" Okay, so, maybe not so flawlessly.
"Just trying to get ahead," I told her, trying to plaster a feigned smile on my face.
Vika continued, "Those wouldn't be dirty enough to need to wash yet."
"Uhhh ... I ... spilled some orange juice on them," I quickly fibbed.
"You've been doing laundry since five o'clock. So either you slept in them wet and sticky with orange juice last night or you got up at four-thirty to drink orange juice in your room." Viktoria scratched her chin as she gave me a mischievous smirk.
"I decided to get up early to do some homework," I replied, "and had a glass of juice first."
"I thought you said you were up to surprise Mama with extra chores?"
"And homework, too," I told her.
"It seems to me, Dimka, that there are only three reasons you'd have to wash your sheets like that, and all of them involve not wanting someone to see what's on those sheets. And two of them involve a girl."
"What? Don't be ridiculous, Viktoria. What are you talking about?"
"If you peed the bed, you'd have to wash your sheets like that - and probably your mattress, too - but even Babushka doesn't have to wear adult diapers yet. I know you have a new girlfriend, Dimka. I saw your text to 'Roza' about going out with her over the weekend. So, either you had this Roza girl in there last night and you needed to wash away the evidence of taking her virginity, or you had some," cough, "messy," cough, "dreams, probably about this Roza, last night. Now, do I need to tell Mama and Babushka that they need to have some talks with you about being respectful with a girl you just met - and locking you in the house at night - or you need to admit that you are a sick pervert who can't keep his man chowder in his pants when he's sleeping, Dimka. Now which one is it?"
I stared at Viktoria in embarrassed horror. No way was I going to live this down. I turned my face down as I admitted, "Roza wasn't here. It was just me."
Viktoria wrinkled her nose. "Gross, Dimka. Were you careful about how you carried it? I hope you didn't drip any baby batter on anything on your way to the washer."
"Vika!" I gruffly yell-whispered to her, my head still down, "Not that it's any of your business as long as the floor is clean, but I was careful about how I wrapped up the sheets before I brought them downstairs."
"Just don't get any of your ball barf anywhere near me. Either way, spilling your trouser gravy in your pants while dreaming of her or deflowering her," she said, "I think you need to bring this Roza here for us to meet her properly, Dimka."
My face turned up to look at Vika, eyes wide as saucers. There was no way I could bring Rose to meet my family!
"What?" she asked, "It can't be worse than Rolan."
I interrupted, "Who you did not bring home to the family for us to meet!"
"And if I had, Dimka, he never would've been in my life long enough that you needed to break his nose. That's why you need someone more objective than the little man in your pants to tell you whether this Roza is okay or not. Then I can kick her ass if she isn't good enough for my baby brother."
"I didn't break his nose, Vika," I told her, "I just made it bleed a little. Enough for him to learn to respect you and stay away. But this thing with Roza is too new. I can't introduce her to the family yet. And you will not be kicking her ass, Viktoria."
"Why won't I be kicking her ass? Is she under eighteen, like your last girlfriend? Ooh, maybe there's a bigger age difference than I thought, here! Maybe you're like seven years older than she is. Dimka, has she at least entered puberty? Are you a pedophile - or an actual child molester?"
"No! I'm not a child molester! Vika, I was under eighteen when I dated my last girlfriend! And she was only a year younger than I was! Why would you even think something like that?"
"So how old is she, Dimka?"
"She's ... older than I am."
"Is she a freshman in college? Ooh, where does she go? Did you meet her in your Chemistry class at S.C.C.? Is there a chance I might have met her?"
"She's not in my Chemistry class at S.C.C.," I told her, trying to be as cagey as I could about providing any actual details.
"But I have met her, then?" she asked. Uh-oh, Viktoria can be like a truth-sniffing bloodhound, scenting out the little fragments.
"Met who?" asked Mama, rounding the corner from her bedroom. I was still holding my bundle of sheets in my hands, trying not to draw attention to it.
"Dimka's new girlfriend 'Roza', Mama," Viktoria said, "She's in college." If we had been sitting at a dinner table, I might've kicked Vika's leg out of spite.
Mama's eyes lit up as she said, "Dimitri, you've met someone special? And Viktoria has already met her, too? Oh, how wonderful! When do the rest of us get to meet her?"
"I was just telling Viktoria that I've only known Roza since Saturday and I think it's still too early to introduce her to our family."
"So, what's she like, Vika?" Mama asked.
Viktoria looked studiously at me.
I took a moment to think of what to tell them. "She's very strong, Mama. She's been through a lot in her life and she's not afraid to be who she really is with anyone. I think you'd really like her. Fiercely protective. She's so smart and absolutely tenacious when she sets her mind to something. She wants to become a social worker so that she can help those who can't help themselves," I said, adding in a low mumble, "and she is maybe the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"See, Dimka?" interjected Viktoria, "Thinking with the little man. This is why you need us to meet her. Now, clearly I already know her from somewhere, so why don't you tell me her last name?"
"You might not even remember Rose," I said, hopefully.
Viktoria scrunched up her face. "I thought her name was Roza."
"It is. You've been out of Baia for too long, sestra," I said, using the Russian word for sister.
"Why don't you want to tell me her name, Dimka? It's not like she's Hooligan Hathaway." Oh, shit.
Before I could try to come up with something to say to that, my mother asked, "Who's Hooligan Hathaway?"
"Rosemarie 'Hooligan' Hathaway. I only knew her by reputation because she was the grade above me. And then the grade below me. She was the St. Vladimir's student that half of the strange rules you had asked me about that came out when I attended were made for, Mama. If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have that rule about not bringing aluminum foil into the cafeteria, or the rule about making sure underwear aren't visible out the back of your waistband, or the rule about not lighting candles on school grounds. Not to mention she slept with half the guys in our graduating class - and, she kidnapped her best friend Vasilisa and went to live in Portland with her as strippers for an entire year!"
Wait - Rose was a stripper? And I missed it? My dick was hardening just imagining her lithe body as she shimmied provocatively across a dance floor pulling off items of her clothing.
"Bozhe moy!" Mama exclaimed, "This girl sounds like real trouble, Viktoria. Although, you never can trust rumors if you haven't known the girl personally, and it's certainly not nice to make assumptions about who someone is or isn't sleeping with. You remember all the rumors that were spread about you after Dimitri saved you from Rolan. Now, Dimka, your Roza sounds nothing like these rumors," she eyed Viktoria, "- because that's all they are - about this Hathaway girl. When do we get to meet Roza?"
"Mama, let me get to know her first. Could I have a few months?" Maybe until the summer is over when I'm officially in college. "Then I will introduce her to our family," I said.
"I know you'll introduce this girl to us when you're ready, Dimka," Mama said, patting me on the shoulder, "You have a good head on your shoulders. You do what you feel is best."
"Thank you, Mama."
"So, Dimitri, tell me her last name already," Vika said, "Or I'm sure Mama would love to know all the details about the extra chores you were doing this morning?"
I thought quickly back to something Rose had told me: "I used to go by my mom's last name because my parents never actually got married, but a few years ago, I patched things up with my dad and these days I go by his last name: Mazur."
"She said her last name is Mazur. But I don't think you've ever met her, Vika."
"Hmm," said Mama, "I wonder if she's related to my old friend Abe Mazur."
"I wouldn't know," I told her.
--=o0/&\0o=--
Author's Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this one. I had a lot of laughs looking up all the various possible euphemisms that Viktoria could've used. Rose should be back in the picture next chapter again. If you ever want a good laugh, you can Google "funny names for semen". Close runners-up that didn't make the cut (a few for more obvious reasons of the fact that his sister is saying them to him): throat yogurt, wiener sauce, he-mulsion, and cock snot.
What'd you think? Feedback is appreciated. :-)