Buried By The Highway

Web of Duty

"Only enemies speak the truth; friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty."

                                                                                                                                              ~ Stephen King

Moscow, Russia SFSR, Soviet Union
September 13th, 1989

Natalya felt her husband's soaked hands go up her naked back, scrubbing her dirty skin as they both sat in the bathtub.

"The dye is coming off, Natasha," Igor softly remarked.

Natalya only nodded before sensing his fingers brush through her hair.

She closed her eyes and it wasn't long before she heard what she feared.

"My god," Igor whispered. "I can see grey strands."

Natalya didn't reply at first, instead brushing aside her husband's fingers. "I'm finished," she finally said, getting out of the tub, rubbing her feet against the moldy bath rug. She grabbed her towel from the rack just as Igor got out as well.

Through the mirror, Natalya watched as she rubbed herself dry with the towel before wrapping it around her body. Behind her, she saw Igor placing his arms around her waist, and resting his head on hers.

She couldn't help but smile, remembering their college days. Well, when they weren't within reach of clear and present danger. Placing her hand over Igor's, Natalya turned to kiss him. She then pressed her head against his, tightly wrapping her arms around him as she closed her eyes.

"We should get dressed," Igor whispered into her ear. "Dinner will be ready soon and Artyom, Zofia and Lyonya are supposed to arrive any minute."

Natalya felt her heart skip a beat at this.

...

After finishing in the bathroom, the couple found themselves leaning out the kitchen window, overlooking Moscow proper. Natalya was going through one of her Cuban cigars while Igor enjoyed a cup of tea.

Behind them, Natalya's mother, Alla, and Liya were finishing preparing the table.

They heard a knock on the door, to which Natalya quickly got off the windowsill and made her way across the room to answer, nearly tripping her already packed duffle-bag on the way.

Opening the door, she was met with a man and woman roughly her age.

The woman was wearing a beige trench-coat over her pink and white dress, her black hair curly, while the man was in a brown sweater and jacket with blue trousers and eyeglasses.

The woman smiled. "Good evening, Natasha."

Natalya grinned. "It's good to see you again, Zofia," she said before exchanging hugs with the woman. She turned to the man. "You as well, Artyom." She did the same with him.

Hiding behind the woman was a child, a year older than her daughter, Natalya knew. He had slightly darker skin than his parents, his arctic blue eyes looking into her own.

Looking back at the couple, Natalya smiled. "Come on in," she said to them, standing aside, "we just made tea."

Inside, the couple exchanged salutations with Igor and Alla and gave Liya a pat on the head.

The other child, Lyonya, seemed uneasy around Liya as the latter waved hello.

...

Jokes and funny stories were exchanged over tea and cigarettes while the children sat in the living room, watching cartoons on the television.