Originally, Heather was on the fence about letting Babushka stick around at her apartment. Turned out, Babushka was a pretty freaking awesome roommate.
Case in point? The laundry Babushka had washed, folded, and put away for Heather. Yes, she had rearranged all of Heather’s drawers in the process, but it’d been a week and Heather hadn’t had to touch the washing machine. It would take Heather a bit to grow accustomed to having her lingerie moved to the bottom drawer of her dresser, but she’d get used to it.
Not that she took advantage of the old woman. Babushka just always got to the laundry first. And the dishes. And the woman cooked like a dream. Heather slogged up the stairs after work every afternoon and Babushka had dinner ready for her.
Heather had told her repeatedly she didn’t have to do it. But who was she to ruin the woman’s happiness? If making Heather piroshki and potato pancakes was her thing, Heather could be totally on board.
And she’d shared her recipes with Candy and the other bakers. Which meant, Heather was selling the hell out of some cookies.
To top it all off, Babushka also taken over personally hawking prom tickets to anyone over the age of fifty-five who came within a five-foot radius of the cookie shop.
A knock at the door and Heather stood from the table. “I’ve got it.”
“No. No. You sit.” Babushka shuffled past Heather to the front door. “You have vork. I vill answer.”
Heather had spent the morning getting donations for her prom project. She went back to her notepad of patrons, marking who had agreed to donate what.
Babushka pulled open Heather’s front door. Jase stood on the other side.
“Enough is enough, I’ve come to bring you home,” he declared to his grandmother.
Oh. Hell no.
Heather moved to head off the swiping of the babushka. “Jase. Hello. Come in. Have some golubzi.”
He sucked in air. “Shit. She’s turned you.”
“Mouth.” Babushka patted his cheek. “Cuss in Russian, like a good boy.”
“Gav-no,” he replied, stepping into the apartment.
Babushka’s smile would’ve been infectious if Jase weren’t there to steal her back.
“What happened in here?” He glanced around the rearranged apartment.
“Your grandmother feng shui’d me.” And Heather liked it.
“Babushka, we wanted to give you time to calm down, but it’s time to come home.”
“No.” Babushka had set to work in the kitchen, making up a plate of the golubzi Heather assumed was for Jase. “I am happy here.”
“Come home and be passive-aggressive with us like a true Dvornakov.”
“She’s happy here,” Heather confirmed. She crossed her arms across her chest for good measure.
“She can’t like sleeping on a sofa more than her bed at home.”
“It’s memory foam. She’s perfectly comfortable.” And it folded away during the day as a bonus. Everyone was happy.
Happy. Happy. Happy.
Except Jase, who was clearly unhappy with the continued setup.
“Heather, come on. Give me my grandmother back.”
“She can go back whenever she wants.” Which, Heather hoped, wouldn’t be soon.
Jase squeezed his eyes shut. “Heather…”
She kept hers wide open. “Jase…”
“C’mon, help me out?” he asked.
“Your father, he is ready to apologize?” Babushka scooted a cabbage roll onto Jase’s plate and shuffled to the table.
Jase followed her to the table. “Of course he’s not. He’s Papa. He doesn’t apologize.”
“And I don’t move home,” Babushka confirmed. “Now, come eat.”
Jase glowered at Heather. “I’m only eating it because I haven’t had lunch.”
He didn’t have to justify himself to Heather. Babushka was an amazing cook.
“Now, I vill go for a valk so you two can be alone.” Babushka made a hasty, and rather loud, exit, the door snapping in place behind her.
Heather pulled a chair out beside Jase. A reasonable distance, given what had happened the last time they were alone in her dining nook. “Be glad she hasn’t moved in with her boyfriend.”
He stilled mid-chew. Swallowed. “Is that even under discussion?”
“She’s mentioned it. I’ve convinced her that she should stay here.” Heather fiddled with the edge of the plastic tablecloth Babushka had added to the table. “She’s actually a really great roommate.”
“She rearrange your cabinets yet?” Jase asked with a glance to Heather’s small kitchen.
“Cabinets, furniture, closets. They’ve all been Babushka’d.”
“You’ll have a plastic cover on your sofa pretty soon.” He ran a tongue over his teeth.
“Then we’ll be able to wipe it off easily, won’t we?”
“Fuck, she’s really burrowed in good.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, tossing it on top of his now empty plate. “You coming to Brek’s Bar tonight? Being around normal people might do you good. The cover band he’s got coming in is supposed to be amazing.”
“I was planning on it. Your grandmother has plans this weekend, so it’ll be lonely around here.”
“What kind of plans?” Jase asked, ominous.
Heather shifted in her seat. “She’s going up to Blackhawk with Morty.”
Jase stared at her. His mouth dropped open. “For fuck’s sakes.”
“She’s a grown woman.” Heather smoothed her palms over the tablecloth.
“And she’s going gambling with the boyfriend who has already squeezed half a mil from her?” Jase confirmed.
Well, when he put it like that…
“You wanna go to Blackhawk and chaperone?” Heather asked. “We can go together.”
He ran a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
Yeah. That.
“What time are we leaving?” he asked.