I’m not sure if anyone saw me look into the dining room as I passed, but I am sure that no one brought it up. In that way, I survived all of last night’s test.
This morning, we are all still in perfection mode. Each of us still on edge, making sure we do everything according to regulations. Ma has left the windows open so our neighbours can see us - something she does at least once a week to avoid too many visits like last evening.
My blonde hair, as always, is in the knot on the base of my neck suitable for unmarried women of my age. My neatly pressed dress is knee-length, as is appropriate for this time of year. Our family sits around the table passing the breakfast dishes according to rank, as propriety demands.
All the rules are enough to make my head want to pop off my shoulders, but we have to do it. Mornings like this make me feel like I’m living in a business rather than a family. I know Ma tries to shield us from this as much as possible, but we can only avoid the rules so much before it puts all of us in danger.
As we were cleaning up the breakfast dishes, Ma speaks to me.
“Maria,” she hands me a plate, “I had your shoes polished and left by the door. They are under your hook.”
I nod and continue to dry the plate in my hand.
“I want you to open the door before you prepare yourself for your meeting. We should allow everyone to see your organization. All right, dear?”
After what I had seen last night, I didn’t dare question her. I know none of this could be easy. I quickly scan her face for any signs of distress before answering her, “Yes, Ma. Of course.”
She never ceases to amaze me. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would not believe that anything was out of the ordinary in this house. I wish I had inherited her skills in that area. I think I might go down in history as the only person ever to get in trouble because she can’t control the looks her face makes.
I do as Ma asks and open the door before I put on my coat and boots. I am careful to sit properly as I lace them up and tie them, so as not to cause any more scandals than usual. I straighten my coat before closing the door and setting out for my meeting. My short heeled boots clack every time they hit the sidewalk. For the entire duration of my walk, I keep up my usual quick pace unless I have to stop to greet neighbours. I hate greeting neighbours, but I always try to channel my ma and make it look like I am happy to be there talking to them.
When I finally reach the cafe, I can see Alexei at our regular table. To look at him, everything seems normal. His hands are folded on the table and he is looking straight ahead, as though admiring the painting on the wall. I let my eyes linger longer than is appropriate as I smile at the sight of his dark hair against his light skin.
Finally, I push open the door and enter the warmth of the cafe.
“Hello, Alexei,” I smile at him and offer my gloved hand, “I apologize for my lateness. Thank you for waiting.”
He briefly kisses my hand before responding, “It is no trouble, Maria. I have ordered you tea.”
Ever since the new rules came into effect last year, he is required to order food and drink on my behalf. They gave some kind of rationale about knowing if someone was a good spouse by how well they knew your food preferences, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t the real reason. Fortunately for me, Alexei and I have been seeing each other long enough that he knows what I like, so it isn’t much of a hardship for me.
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