Konstantinovich had also waited for permission… No, that was different – he was not waiting for permission, he was simply being considerate. He did not want to offend or upset her. That was something else.
If he had decided to kiss her, what would it have been like?
Dina did not know the answer to that question. She did not have enough experience. But she wanted to find out. She dearly wanted to know… She was willing to pay with bitter tears for it, only to find out how it feels to be kissed by her darling Kostya…
Darling Kostya?!
Yes, darling Kostya. Dear Kostya. My dear, darling Kostya.
Mom
Dina’s mom stood on the platform, a little distance away from all the departing and arriving passengers. Dina hadn’t told her the carriage number, she had passed a message on through Aunt Ira that her mom didn’t need to meet her. She could find her way home with no problem, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Although she knew that her mother loved train stations and loved welcoming and saying goodbye – it was always a big deal for her. In all these years, she hadn’t seen Dina off only once.
Her mother saw Dina immediately and waved to her.
“Dinochka! Daughter!” She hugged Dina.
And Dina felt the indescribable warmth, sensed her mother’s love – so clear and simple, like drinking water when you are consumed with thirst.
“Mom… why are you here? I’m not a little girl.”
But her mother just beamed and couldn’t stop gazing at Dina.
They got on the bus. It was only three stops until home and her mom only had time to ask about the semester and the work placement.
“My clever girl. I am so proud of you!” She held Dina under the arm the whole way, pressing her close.
The house smelled, as always, of comfort, warmth, and delicious food. As always, Dina’s mother had made her daughter’s favorite dishes. The table was set and while Dina showered after the trip, her mom warmed up the hot food and put a bottle of champagne on the table.
“To you, darling!” Said her mother as she raised her glass.
“To you, Mom!” Said Dina and for one elusive moment, she saw herself sitting opposite Konstantin Konstantinovich: with a glass of champagne slightly raised above the table, his laughing eyes, a lock of black hair falling onto his forehead, the parted mouth, and the attractive large fingers holding a glass.
“Dinochka, what’s going on with you?” Her mom looked at her closely.
“Nothing, Mom! Everything’s fine!” Dina tried to act natural and even laughed. “Why do you ask?”
But it’s hard to hide from your own mother. Especially a loving mother.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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