January 1994
January turned out to be as empty as a beer can under the couch after a student party. Clients showed up at the office once or twice a day. Staff enrolled at MEPhI plunged into the bustle of winter finals. Me included.
I ran out to Khryakino with an audit, where I debated with Genka: what constitutes presence, what constitutes absence, and whether a shortfall of two hundred forty bottles against three hundred fifty thousand shipped can be considered a negligibly small quantity. Satisfied with the appeal to the mathematics of infinitesimals, I returned to the office and sank into the daily grind. I sat in my office leafing through sales reports mixed with lecture notes. Once every four days I rode off to an exam, to get a solid passing grade for unsteady discrete knowledge.
After finals, free time opened up. What to spend it on? What pleasant thing to indulge in? The moment the itch started, Alina called: how are you, how’s your mood… I was surprised, made excuses: must’ve meant to call Vadim a hundred times to get her number. Never got around to it, this and that… Great that she’d called herself!
I suggested meeting right now.
Alina sighed: busy with work. I offered to set any time convenient for her. Alina hesitated and agreed to coffee that evening at eight.
At five to eight I dashed out to the lot, started up the Torus, warmed up the cabin, steered toward the Vatrushka.
By half past eight we’d reached the Terem.
After the renovation, the interior, the staff, and the menu had all changed radically. Half a year ago the Terem had been a dive for local cooperative traders. Now it strained to present a glamorous venue.
Alina and I took a spot in the corner, like two sparrows in a farmyard full of turkeys and ducks. Picked at a salad each, discussed trivial details.
We killed an hour on nothing, decided to wrap up dinner and head home.
Alina was embarrassed by how we’d met on New Year’s. To me it didn’t seem worth a rotten egg. I behaved businesslike, even pushy. About five times I suggested Alina swing by my place and repeat what had happened before. She flatly refused. Repeated like an incantation that it was awkward, no-no, absolutely not, maybe later, but not today. Babbled nonsense. At the end, embarrassed and stammering, she asked to borrow a hundred dollars. Apologized and made excuses that she was short for boots, really needed them, it was cold, and her salary wouldn’t come for a while. I marveled at Vadik’s carelessness. At Proma, staff got their salaries in full and on time. Nobody froze.
The date ended on a pathetic note.
I handed over the money in the car, got in return the most honest word in the world that she’d absolutely call sometime that week. Then we drove off somewhere in Maryino. Dropping her off there, I demanded she repeat the vow that Alina would forget about the debt and would definitely stop by for a visit, as promised.
