the doorman » a.i au

seventeen; "my granddad was a descendant of lenin."

“Hey, Kare?” I looked up from my pile of homework to see Ashton putting on his most serious face. Naturally, I grew worried. We decided that today, we were going to relive the honeymoon phase of our friendship thru visiting the different cafes we had gone to. We were sitting at a café called endroit calm – the literal translation of ‘calm place’ in French. It had a great ambience and slow calming music, which was ironic because Ashton didn’t look calm at all.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think my granddad was a descendant of Lenin.”

I clasped my hand over my mouth as I snorted. “Like, Russian Vladimir Lenin?”

“How many Lenins do you know?” he rolled his eyes, “Anyway, see, he was born in Russia on-“

“My classmate’s name is Lenin. I mean, not like, Lenin, but L-e-n-n-i-e and her last name starts with an N. So, Lenny N and when you put it together, it sounds like Lenin.”

He laughed, making me laugh along as he struggled to put on a serious face only to snort and bark a laugh again. “Anyway, as I was saying before you very politely interrupted me, he was born on March 7th 1945 in Russia. More specifically, Ulyanovsk, which was the town – or city or village or whatever – Lenin was born in. Wouldn’t it be cool if I had Russian blood? Maybe I could put on a Russian accent, d’you think that’d be more charming of me?”

“Please, don’t even try,” I playfully warned him though secretly, I was enjoying all of these.

He cleared his throat. “Vot is wrong wiz being русский?”

I blinked a few times as he stared at me with a grin on his face. “That was so bad, I’m not even going to- I mean I- Oh my god, just no.”

“But it’d be so cool! Maybe I could go to Russia and… y’know, find my ancestors. You could come with me, it’ll be like a meet-the-ancestors session. We could always visit their graves if they’re dead but either way, I’m pretty sure I can find some.”

“Honey, sorry to break it to you but Lenin didn’t have any kids.”

“Honey,” he snapped although a smile was clearly etched onto his features, “don’t ruin my dreams. Why do you have to be so mean? You didn’t need to say that. I mean, how do you even know? You probably just made that up.”

“Ash, darling?”

“Yes, baby?” my heart fluttered a little as he said that.

“Shut up.”

-

“So, my parents want to meet you,” he intertwined our hands as we sat on a ledge at the beach later that day, patiently waiting for the sun to set.

“When?” at that moment, my heart sped up. While it was established that Ashton’s mum was one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met, his dad was still a mystery left unsolved. In my mind, he was an intimidating silhouette – harsh, strict and mentally immalleable. It seemed only right for him to be the one controlling figure in their family. Strict parents make the best kids, they say. Considering Renata is a lovely woman, I doubted that her husband would be as kind.

“Is Friday night next week fine with you?”

“That's early. But it depends,” I paused, “Is it another party you aren’t telling me about?”

“No,” he chuckled, tucking my head under his chin, “It’s not, I promise. Just the four of us around a table. Probably with microwaved food, I don’t know… It really depends on how lazy my mum will be. But seeing as she loves you, she’ll probably cook her best stuff.”