detailsâsheâd just tossed it in the air like a petal plucked carelessly from a flowerâand Hannah hadnât taken her seriously because Valeria was the type of person who said things like that to make herself seem important.
âYes, she mentioned you,â Hannah said, crossing her arms over her dirty apron. She wished Valeria had told her that Olga was coming to the market. She would have worn something nicer, maybe even some mascara and a little red lipstick. Daniil had always claimed her eyes didnât need makeup, but Katya said he just didnât want her to realize how stunning she was. Hannah loved her best friendâshe always said the right thing, even if it wasnât true.
Olgaâs jacket didnât have buckles or zippers or bumpy skin, and it smelled of real leather. âWould you like to touch it?â Olga asked, reaching out her arm. âItâs from America.â
How embarrassing. Hannah realized sheâd been gaping at Olgaâs jacket like some peasant. She reached out to touch it briefly with one finger before dropping her hand back down by her side. âItâs very nice.â
âYou can buy many things like this in America,â Olga said. âI hope you know what an opportunity this is.â
âI didnât know it was a real thing,â Hannah answered, feeling shy, despite herself.
âWell, Iâm doing a favor for Valeria,â Olga said. âShe told me last week your babushka got an eviction notice and sheâs worried because she and Petru canât afford to subsidize your income, not with two other children to care for.â
An eviction notice? Olga was telling Hannah things she didnât even know about her own family, right here in the bazaar where anyone could hear. It was true that money had gotten tighter in the last few months, but Babulya hadnât said anything about an eviction notice. She glanced at the woman in the booth beside her, who sold lettuce, cabbage, and radishes. The woman was staring straight ahead, but Hannah could tell she was listening.
Olga went on, âEver since your uncle Vladi took off, Valeria says itâs been too much for your babushka, going back and forth to the village.â
âHe didnât take off,â Hannah said, her eyes narrowing at the woman.
âOf course not,â Olga said softly. âBut heâs gone.â
Hannahâs uncle Vladi had disappeared two months ago. One day he hadnât shown up at the apartment with the weekly delivery of carrots and vegetables for the carrot salad. She and Babulya had gone to Gura Bicului to see what had happened, but nobody in the village knew anything. At Babulyaâs house, they found a terse note on the old table by the woodstove: âI am working in Italy. Iâll send money. Vladi.â It was in his handwriting, all right, and heâd taken some of his clothes, but it wasnât like him to leave so suddenly, especially after what had happened to her parents just a year before. He was her sweet, funny uncle. He juggled to make the old people in the village smile. Heâd taught her how to make Ukrainian eggs and decorate the frames they sold at the booth next to the carrot salad. He had a secret that only she knew, and she had kept it for him. He wouldnât leave her like this.
Theyâd called the police, but the police couldnât do anything if he wasnât in the country. There wasnât much she and Babulya could do eitherâjust pray that he was all right. Life went on. They still had to eat. Since then, Babulya had to go to Gura Bicului a couple of times a week while Hannah worked in the market. One day a week, they closed the booth and went together to tend to the garden and do whatever was too difficult for Babulya to do alone. Every time, Hannah hoped heâd be there, but the once warm, welcoming house was always empty and cold.
âYour babushka can move in with
âYes, she mentioned you,â Hannah said, crossing her arms over her dirty apron. She wished Valeria had told her that Olga was coming to the market. She would have worn something nicer, maybe even some mascara and a little red lipstick. Daniil had always claimed her eyes didnât need makeup, but Katya said he just didnât want her to realize how stunning she was. Hannah loved her best friendâshe always said the right thing, even if it wasnât true.
Olgaâs jacket didnât have buckles or zippers or bumpy skin, and it smelled of real leather. âWould you like to touch it?â Olga asked, reaching out her arm. âItâs from America.â
How embarrassing. Hannah realized sheâd been gaping at Olgaâs jacket like some peasant. She reached out to touch it briefly with one finger before dropping her hand back down by her side. âItâs very nice.â
âYou can buy many things like this in America,â Olga said. âI hope you know what an opportunity this is.â
âI didnât know it was a real thing,â Hannah answered, feeling shy, despite herself.
âWell, Iâm doing a favor for Valeria,â Olga said. âShe told me last week your babushka got an eviction notice and sheâs worried because she and Petru canât afford to subsidize your income, not with two other children to care for.â
An eviction notice? Olga was telling Hannah things she didnât even know about her own family, right here in the bazaar where anyone could hear. It was true that money had gotten tighter in the last few months, but Babulya hadnât said anything about an eviction notice. She glanced at the woman in the booth beside her, who sold lettuce, cabbage, and radishes. The woman was staring straight ahead, but Hannah could tell she was listening.
Olga went on, âEver since your uncle Vladi took off, Valeria says itâs been too much for your babushka, going back and forth to the village.â
âHe didnât take off,â Hannah said, her eyes narrowing at the woman.
âOf course not,â Olga said softly. âBut heâs gone.â
Hannahâs uncle Vladi had disappeared two months ago. One day he hadnât shown up at the apartment with the weekly delivery of carrots and vegetables for the carrot salad. She and Babulya had gone to Gura Bicului to see what had happened, but nobody in the village knew anything. At Babulyaâs house, they found a terse note on the old table by the woodstove: âI am working in Italy. Iâll send money. Vladi.â It was in his handwriting, all right, and heâd taken some of his clothes, but it wasnât like him to leave so suddenly, especially after what had happened to her parents just a year before. He was her sweet, funny uncle. He juggled to make the old people in the village smile. Heâd taught her how to make Ukrainian eggs and decorate the frames they sold at the booth next to the carrot salad. He had a secret that only she knew, and she had kept it for him. He wouldnât leave her like this.
Theyâd called the police, but the police couldnât do anything if he wasnât in the country. There wasnât much she and Babulya could do eitherâjust pray that he was all right. Life went on. They still had to eat. Since then, Babulya had to go to Gura Bicului a couple of times a week while Hannah worked in the market. One day a week, they closed the booth and went together to tend to the garden and do whatever was too difficult for Babulya to do alone. Every time, Hannah hoped heâd be there, but the once warm, welcoming house was always empty and cold.
âYour babushka can move in with
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