“What’s that mean?” He didn’t know if Dmitri had seen Manny straddle him, but he decided not to bring it up. That had definitely been a mis-calibrated response, however.
Dmitri looked painfully uncomfortable, but he continued. “Um, look. Manny and me, we’re adopted. Foreign adoptions—from an orphanage in Ukraine. You ever hear about those places?”
He thought he’d seen some news show or something about it, a long time ago. “They’re the ones with the kids left in the cribs and shit?”
“Yeah. I guess it was bad. I was only in one for about a year, and I don’t remember it. But Manny? She was there for almost six years—since she was a couple days old. Hardly anybody ever touched her for the first six years of her life.”
“Christ.”
“Yeah. That kind of broke her. But she’s a lot better. She learned how she’s supposed to react to people, and how to control her reactions that aren’t normal. But tonight was just…a bad stew, I guess. I had a big fight with my friends, and people who are supposed to like each other being shits to each other always makes her skittish, and then I wanted to chill out at the bar. I should’ve been watching her closer and gotten her out of there when it got so crowded and that guy wouldn’t back off, but I was stewing in my own shit. Tonight’s my fault, not hers.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, thanks for the ride, and please don’t do anything to lose her job for her, okay?”
“Dude, like I said, had no intention. Get on inside and take care of your baby sister.”
“Older sister, actually.”
That surprised him. Dmitri both looked and acted older. But all he said was, “Okay. Take care.”
Dmitri nodded and went in.
Luca got in his H3 and pulled out, headed toward his apartment, thinking deep, sad thoughts about a tiny little girl sitting alone, with no one.
For years.
4
“You want some juice?”
Manny turned and smiled at her brother, standing in the doorway to her little kitchen. “No, Dimi. Fuck. I’m fine.”
“You’re still rocking, sis.” He crossed the room sat next to her on the sofa, and she turned into him. He put his arm around her, and she finally settled. Except when she was way off the beam, Dmitri could always touch her.
“You like that guy? That Luke guy?”
“Luca. And no. I don’t even know him. He’s probably gonna fuck this move up for me now.”
Dimi combed his fingers through her hair. “I don’t think so. I think he’s cool.”
She pushed away and looked her brother in the eye. “You know so much about him you can be sure of that?”
“No, but…I just…I explained a little about what happened.”
Her turmoil had been waning, but now it picked up a little as she tried to imagine what he might have said. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you explain?”
“Don’t get mad, sis. I just didn’t want you to lose work over this. You know? And he said he was a client of yours—”
“Not a client. I filled in for somebody. Did one session.”
“Well, okay. I didn’t know that. But still—he’s obviously a local, and I—”
“What did you tell him?”
“Just that we’re adopted, and…that we came from that orphanage.”
Manny pushed free of her brother and stood up. “Fuck! Fuck, Dimi! Why?”
“I wanted him to know why you act like that. So he wouldn’t think you’re psycho.”
“I am psycho!” She stormed into the kitchen and ripped open the cabinet next to the sink. Then she started throwing prescription pill bottles at him through the doorway, which he swatted away. “Anti-anxiety.” She threw a bottle. “Anti-depressant.” Another bottle “Anti-fucking-psychotic.” That bottle she heaved so hard he lost track of it, and it hit him in the head. “I think that one fucking answers the question, don’t you?”
In a frenzy now, she cleared the cabinet of the rest of the pills, and they clattered over the counter, sink, and floor. Then she started on the dishes in her little wooden drainer. But Dmitri was there before she could set one flying, his arms banded around her.
“Shhh, sis. You’re not psycho, and you know it. You’re in control. You just had too much to drink is all and lost your peace.”
His arms calmed her. His were the only ones that ever did. From the time they were kids, even when his arms were shorter than hers. She took a breath. “Well, I’m not drunk now.”