The White Russian
He better still like White Russians, Eva thought, standing at the front door, eyes aimed at him . Maman kissed Aunt Janice on each cheek, Papa shook hands with Grandpapa, and Oncle Marc patted his back in an impersonal side hug. Eva repeated her parents’ moves, then tried to walk around him . “Eva!” Maman scream-whispered through gritted teeth, then tilted her head in his direction. Eyes glued to the floor, she quickly shook hands with a sloppy grip and slipped by him into the short, narrow hallway that connected the entrance and kitchen to the living room. Eva was then greeted by the rest of the family; Tante Christine kissed her on both cheeks, Grandpapa’s quasi-girlfriend Eve gave her a hug, and Paul (no one bothered to call him uncle) fist bumped her. She scuttered off to the couch on the other side of the room, where all the cousins were. Christopher, Sarah, and Isla waved while Maya surprisingly said hi. Eva went and sat next to her on the arm of the old Chesterfield. He...