Chapter 1
Yelena’s Widows don’t exactly have the social skills to interact with others their own age. Mischa has fumbled enough times trying to connect with Phoebe, desperately begging Yelena for advice on how not to mess it up. She doesn’t always understand pop culture references or politics and doesn’t have fond memories of her childhood to call upon.
The older girls, Viktoria, Alice, and Irina are learning to interact with others in the world as themselves without a mask on.
Yelena’s younger girls aren’t quite ready to face the world. The world is big and overwhelming and her girls have had nearly zero control of their lives. Being able to stay home with their mom and take things at their own pace is their choice, one that Yelena will support.
But this day leaves Daria grumpy and cranky, the long night last night resulted in Varvara pulling Yelena out of bed at two in the morning because Daria had a nightmare and was refusing to be touched or get out of the corner of the room she wedged herself in to.
This leads Yelena to tote around her clingy baby for the rest of the night after she calms her down. Yelena doesn’t mind it when her girls are clingy. It can be inconvenient at times but Yelena will never make them feel ashamed about needing her.
Unfortunately in the morning, she realizes that they’re needing a few groceries urgently. If one of her older girls were here then they could go but Alice is with Viktoria freeing a Widow, Irina hates shopping with a passion, and Mischa is in the states sightseeing.
Which leaves Yelena a problem. Irina would be there to keep an eye on the girls but she was having a migraine and wasn’t in the mood to deal with a clingy sister at the moment.
That left Yelena with no option. “Daria, baby, go get your shoes. We need to pick some things up at the store.”
Daria eyes her for a moment before peeling away from her long enough to grab her shoes.
Varvara didn’t exactly want to go to the grocery store and checked with Daria if it was okay that she stayed behind. Daria agrees, communicating that she didn’t mind going with just Yelena.
Daria is content to hold onto Yelena’s sleeve as they shop. She has her notebook tucked under one of her arms, her focus flickering from one product to the next as they slowly make their way through the aisles. Daria lets Yelena go as the older Widow sifts through their selection of cheeses to find the brand that Irina eats.
She barely looked away from her youngest for two moments and when she looks up again, Daria is a few feet away, her head tilted up at the teenager standing next to her at the display of cereals on the endcap as the older girl compliments her shirt.
Daria had been wearing a shirt that Viktoria bought her from an art museum that she went to. There was a painting of a rabbit on her shirt and the girl apparently knew of the artist that did it.
Yelena was ready to head toward them and interrupt, not only since Daria didn’t fare well with strangers but because she was having a bad day. But the lack of distress on Daria’s face has her hesitating.
Daria eyes the teenager before pulling her notebook out from under her arm and flipping it open. The teenager waits with a grin as Daria scribbles something down and then flips her notebook around to show it off.
“Oh, your sister is the artist, huh? Cool, I don’t have a sister,” The teenager shoves her hands into her pockets. “Are rabbits your favorite animals?”
Yelena watches the conversation. The older girl didn’t seem phased that Daria was using a notebook to communicate. After a few moments of conversation, Daria then gestures at her stomach and pats her own, a frown on her face.
“Oh… uh, yeah,” The teenager slips her hand between the small opening in her jacket and knocks on her torso. Yelena is startled to hear the sound of what seemed to be wood or something else solid and hard. “This is my brace.”
Daria starts to write in her notebook and while Yelena doesn’t exactly understand why the teenager was wearing something like that, she didn’t want Daria poking around where she shouldn’t be. Her girls were too curious for their own good sometimes. Daria shows the notebook back off to the teenager.
“Ah, no. I didn’t injure myself,” The girl shakes her head. “I’ve got scoliosis.” Upon seeing Daria’s slightly confused stare, she gestures to the notebook. “Can I see?”
After a moment of hesitation, Daria holds out her notebook and gel pen. The girl takes it and starts to scribble in it. Yelena catches a glimpse of what she drew when she holds it up to show Daria.
“This is a regular spine. It’s probably what yours looks like, yeah?” She taps a hastily drawn sketch of a back and spine on the left. “Scoliosis is when the spine curves sideways. Mine looks like this. It’s called a c-curve. Because it looks like a C. The brace is just to support me. My brace is called a boston brace.”
Daria reaches out toward the notebook and the teenager passes it back. Daria writes her next question and holds her notebook up.
The teenager chortles as she reads the statement. “I don’t think I’ve ever had my brace compared to a bullet-proof vest before. It’s just plastic.” The teenager tugs her shirt up just far enough to flash a piece of white plastic from beneath her shirt before she quickly smooths it down. “Although, it probably would stop a bullet. Not that I have any way to test that,” She taps her chin in thought. “Huh… I’d have to ask my orthopedist when I see him next.”
But Daria, who knew her way around a gun, has the answer. Daria asked her about the brace and the teenager replies that the plastic wasn’t that thick but it had padding underneath it so it was more comfortable. The teenager watches with interest as Daria explains how far away one would have to be standing for the bullet to barely leave a mark.
Yelena debates about stepping in before Daria took it too far but the teenager didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable that Daria was talking about guns. If anything, she looked intrigued and fascinated.
“You sure know a lot about guns. Does your dad take you hunting or something?” The teenager asked her. Daria starts to write and Yelena wonders what cover the girl would use. “Oh. Your mom taught you. Nice, women empowerment and all that shit, am I right?” The teenager nods her head. She looks down at the notebook as Daria wrote again. “Oh, you don’t need to apologize for asking questions. I didn’t mind. Besides, you’re pretty cool to talk to. Do you have a phone, I’d love to exchange numbers and talk again.”
Daria finally glances over at her and Yelena gets caught staring. Sharing information like that could get you killed as a Widow. But Yelena could tell that Daria wanted to share the information. The teenager notices the shift of attention and glances over at Yelena before giving her a wave. Yelena gives a small nod of approval, planning to do a background search on whoever the girl was when she got home. Daria grins, turning back to the teenager, and starts to write down her number.
“Oh, shit--” The teenager suddenly blurts and Daria startles. The teenager waves her hands. “Sorry, I just realized I never told you my name. I’m Maxine Lee. Friends call me Max.”
Daria tears a piece of paper from her notebook and holds it out to Max. Max looks down at it and grins. “Daria, huh? It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Daria.” Max folds it carefully, tucking it into the pocket of her jacket. “Mind if I leave my digits?” She gestures to the notebook and Daria passes it over.
It takes Max a lot longer than usual to write and Yelena belatedly realized that she was drawing something. The teenager seemed to be an artist like Viktoria was.
“Whelp, I’ve kept my dad waiting long enough,” Max tells Daria. “I’ve got to pick up some milk and get back home before he gets mad at me for screwing around.” Max gives a wave to Daria as she turns to leave but abruptly walks into the edge of the end display instead, a sharp ‘tock’ sounding out as her brace hits the metal shelf. “Whoops.” Max mutters, her face turning red as she carefully steps around the shelf and then throws up a peace sign to Daria. “See ya around, Daria.”
As Max rounds the corner and leaves, Daria immediately scampers back to Yelena’s side. She holds the open notebook out to Yelena, a small smile on her face.
Yelena peers down at the page where a sketch of a rabbit not too unlike the one on Daria’s shirt takes up nearly half the page. The bottom of the page had a small message.
CALL ME
(XXX) XXX-XXXX
Max :)
“How are you doing?” Yelena asked, wrapping an arm around Daria. “Was that okay?” She had been unsure about whether or not to step in.
Daria nods her head, closing the notebook and tucking it back under her arm. She hums quietly, leaning against Yelena’s side. Yelena sees her sign the word ‘friend’.
“Yeah little one,” Yelena murmurs, pride filling her chest. “You made a friend.”