“I fried as many potatoes as I could carry… Your cupboards are bare. There’s never any food in the house.”
“I never have time, Mom.”
“Then let Seva buy the groceries. What does that have to do with me?”
“Don’t be mad.” Masha hugged her like a sly little fox, and Viktoriya’s heart melted. “You know how busy we are. You’re the free bird here… You’ve got a dream job—work half a day and do whatever you like afterwards.”
Viktoriya merely sighed. When was the last time she did what she liked? Thirty years ago, maybe. And that “dream job” wasn’t so easy either—she worked the pickup counter for an online-store chain: sometimes hefting boxes herself, dealing with all kinds of customers…
“Oh… we’re even out of milk! And I have a manicure in half an hour…” Masha dashed around the house.
