Page 30 of Unbroken
My mother folds her arms across her chest, jutting her chin out stubbornly. For one brief, scary moment, she looks just like my sister used to. I look away quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I can’t think of Mariah now.
"She said she shut off my Wi-Fi," she says, stabbing a finger at me accusingly.
Vadka's eyebrows rise slightly, clearly amused.
"Snitching?" he says, almost teasing.
I shrug. "She has to take her medication. Do you want another seizure, Mom?"
"I don't have seizures. They made that up," she says petulantly, her voice small and furious. Her fingers fiddle with the frayed edge of a blanket. "And where are my cookies?"
I hold the white paper bag in front of me. "I told you, you would get them if you did what your nurse said.”
She scowls, and Vadka gets the same kind of look he gets when he's dealing with a grumpy Luka. Patient but implacable. Immovable.
"Do what she says, Mary. There's no reason for you not to take your medicine.” He squats down in front of her, his forearms resting on his knees so they’re at eye level. “Why don't you want to do it?"
"I told her already. It makes me feel loopy."
"It makes you feel loopy because the last time you took it, you took it with your sleep pills," the nurse says patiently, just as heavy footsteps sound in the hallway. Someone shoves open the door.
"Well? Did she take them or not?"
Sigh. Nora. White-gray hair pulled into a severe bun, round glasses perched on the edge of her nose, lips pressed into a familiar thin line.
Then she sees Vadka and takes a step back. "Oh. I didn't know you were here."
He gives her a tight smile. "So nice to see you again." He turns back to Mom. "Yes, Mary's going to take her meds," he says, looking at her. "Aren't you? Just like the nurse explained to you. You didn't feel loopy because of this one—it was because of your sleep med. And if you need to take another sleep med, we can talk to your doctor about that. Right?"
My mom eyes the bag of cookies and frowns. She's softening. She's thinking about it.
"Okay, fine," she says, and the entire room breathes a sigh of relief.
I don't always like my job, but all of a sudden, serving drinks, dealing with predators, a demanding late-night schedule, being on my feet all day, and spying on various syndicates sounds like a fantastic idea.
My god, I'm tired. My eyes are all scratchy, and my throat hurts.
I watch my mother take the small paper cup and, with a scowl, drink her water with her medication.
Thank.Fuck.
I hand her the bag of cookies. "Anya said she put in a little something special for you too.” I hand the second bag to Josie, hoping they aren’t too crumbled after the ride.
"She said?—"
The nurse peeks in. Her breath catches. “Oh. Are those the honey-walnut pirozhki? With the citrus glaze?”
She takes one out like it’s sacred.
“Those are my favorite. She only makes them seasonally.”
There’s a beat of reverent silence.
“She said you looked tired last week,” I say. “Wanted to make sure someone was looking after you too.”
Josie sighs. “Tell her thank you. Tell her… that mattered. This is sometimes a thankless job, you know?” She smiles. “These are my favorite though.”