«Give me a break.» Vera snorted and yawned, tired. «I know she’s not your type. I’m sure you would prefer to sleep with a crocodile rather than with such a girl.»
«My little wife is right.» Sighing, Oleg thought about Lana. «But I have no choice. What does that damn Ruslan see in her? She’s fat, plain, and primitive! Well, he’s just a stupid boy yet. Her father gave him a ride. Interesting, what would they talk about?»
This thought bothered Oleg until he fell asleep.
The Crystal Ball shattered in Time’s Square, and far, far away, in another state, the Russians watched the event on TV, raised their goblets clinking them against each other.
The Lapins were celebrating this New Year with Marina and Ruslan. They drank, ate, and talked for a while, but Nina could not help her yawning, then the smiling Marina got up and started to clean the table of the numerous dishes.
Soon the women, holding stuff for bed, entered Larisa’s bedroom, and put their load on the couch.
«Are you sure?» murmured Nina, barely staying in control. «I feel so impolite…»
«Go to sleep,» Marina whispered, kissing the hostess. «Happy New Year!»
«Happy New Year!» Glancing at her daughter, Nina left the room.
Still smiling, Marina made her bed on the couch, and approached Larisa, checking her out.
The girl was sleeping, holding her teddy bear tight, but this peaceful sight washed out Marina’s grin, and deep wrinkles appeared on her forehead and around her mouth.
She quickly turned away, fell onto the couch, and burying her face into the pillow, she wept with her memories.
She hated New Year, because, fourteen years ago, celebrating this holiday, her parents got drunk as never before, and the awful events of the following night were engraved in her soul forever.
Nobody ever figured out how it had happened, because no one saw how the cord of the old, tattered Christmas lights dropped a spark, and the nearest piece of cotton, imitating snow, caught fire.
Twelve-year-old Marina woke up sensing unusual warmth. Drowsy, she sat up in bed.
Suddenly she smelled smoke and sprang up, looking around with horror; half of the room was enveloped in flames.
Her younger sister, Masha, was still sleeping in her crib and Marina darted to her parents’ chamber. «Daddy! Mom!» she screamed, tossing the door wide open. «Fire!»
Cursing, the drunken man threw a bottle at her and put down his head again. Marina heard her sister’s cry and she ran back.
Glancing at the little black-headed girl standing in the crib holding the bars, Marina knocked at the door of her brothers’ room. It was locked, and no one answered.