The Young Blood

3.

By morning we were called to break the night's fast. I put on one of the strange outfits Rachael shared with me, she was a little bigger than I was but they fit nonetheless, favoring a dress.

"Clothing in this era is so... sheer?"

"Yeah, it can be, I guess when you're used to stuff like heavy dresses and petticoats. If you're gonna stay, maybe we can get you some stuff you're more comfortable with?"

"It would be a blessing, although I suppose I will have to get used to these things."

I followed Rachael downstairs and sat down at a large wooden table as the adults of the house labored over a meal. The other girls; Lydia and Nora, were already seated.

"How was your night?" Mr. Gomez asked.

"It was fine," Rachael said, offering a shrug, "just sort of chilled without anything happening."

"Are you two getting along?"

"Yeah. And, she knows, I thought she should sooner than later."

"I see. Anastacia?"

"Yes?"

"I take it this will not be an issue?"

"Of course, I understand the sensitive nature of the situation."

"Perfect."

"What do you like for breakfast?" Mr. Gomez asked.

"Oh, I am not difficult, I will have whatever others are having," I said. "But may I have some black tea?"

"Sure."

Mr. Gomez provided me with a bag of tea, a cup, and covered it with hot water. I idly stirred with the little spoon. Not long after a bounty of different foods were brought to the table. 

As I removed the bag, I took the bottle of raspberry jam and added a little dollop to it, bringing it to my lips and tasting the contrasting bitter, sweet, and fruity flavors.

"Did you just add jam to your tea?" Nora asked.

"What of it?"

"It's weird."

"I assure you this is perfectly ordinary in my home country."

"Where's that?"

"Russia."

"You don't really sound Russian, more like British, I mean you have the accent, but the way you speak," Lydia said, interested.

"I've had an English tutor and adopted his way of speaking your language."

"Does that mean you remember how you got here?" Mr. Gomez interjected.

"I am afraid not... My memories are quite fragmented," I lied.

"What am I supposed to sound like?" I inquired.

Nora put on a strange accent and I did not understand her choice of word, "Hello Comrade! Mother Russia welcomes you."

"She's not a commie?" Rachael said.

"Sue me, it's funnier that way," Nora said, bringing food into her mouth.

"It is quite rude," Lydia said, "How would you like it if someone made a joke about the way Latinos speak?"

"Ugh, jeez, take a joke, people." Nora took her plate and left us, clearly now in a foul mood.

"I know we got briefly introduced yesterday, but I'm Lydia." She smiled, "Where in Russia are you from?"

"Petrograd," I said.