Page 49 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

LAURA

“Vodka, like family, can burn going down but leave a warmth that lingers long after. It reminds us of where we came from and what we’ve shared—both the bitter and the sweet.”

Later, we get dressed and head out to meet my family for breakfast.

I try to smile through the nerves, my stomach tied in knots as Val and I walk into the pancake diner.

I wasn’t planning on introducing him to my parents, but I guess it’s happening anyways.

Even though his hand on my lower back is a comforting presence, my mind races with worst-case scenarios—awkward silences, embarrassing stories, or my dad giving Val one of his trademark grilling sessions. I picture long pauses and forced smiles followed by them asking about Sam.

My heart pounds in my chest like a drum. The scent of syrup and sizzling bacon fills the air, and the clink of silverware on plates makes my pulse race even more. I want to just turn around and run, hide in Val’s bed until they are gone.

My palms are damp, and I can't shake the feeling that this breakfast could go terribly wrong.

Val grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.

My dad and stepmom, Barbara, are already there, along with Leigha, who looks like she barely survived the night. Her hair is a mess, she’s in a matching purple jogging suit, and she's wearing sunglasses indoors.

"Morning, family," I say, forcing cheerfulness into my voice.

"Hey, sis," Leigha groans. "Who turned on the sun?"

Dad stands up to shake Val's hand. "You must be Val. Laura's told us a little bit about you."

Val grips his hand firmly and smiles. "Yes, sir. It's great to meet you."

Barbara gives him a once-over and then smiles, her eyes crinkling with curiosity and approval. "So, you're the bartender from Russia?"

"Guilty as charged," Val replies, and they all laugh. My tension eases a little.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Sorta.

As the conversation flows, I feel my shoulders gradually relax. But I’m still stiff. My spine is sore from all the week’s adventures.

The laughter grows louder, the stories more vivid, and I find myself genuinely smiling as the tension melts away. They talk about childhood memories, favorite holiday traditions, and laugh as Leigha recounts her disastrous karaoke performance.

I sit quietly and pick at my pancakes and scrambled eggs.

Dad asks Val about his life in Russia, and Barbara shares stories about their last family vacation to the Smoky Mountains and Gatlinburg.

I try not to be mad as I listen to Barbara bragging about all the things they do with Leigha.

I've never been to Tennessee even though I used to ask my dad to take me all the time when I was a kid. Nor have I been to Savannah, where they are going next. The disappointment still lingers, mixed with a dull ache of being left out of the new memories he’s making.

Or was that before he got sober-ish and found Jesus.

Val talks about growing up in Sochi and his classes at NYU, and my dad is immediately hooked when Val starts describing the mountains, fishing, and how they make their own beer, or piva.

Leigha groans about her hangover, cracks jokes about last night's karaoke disaster, and flirts with the waiter.

"You know," she says with a wink, "I only sing badly when there's an audience.

" The waiter chuckles, and Dad shakes his head.

"Leigha is my untamable daughter," he mutters, making everyone laugh but me.

"So, Val," Dad says, leaning forward as he stirs his coffee. "What made you come to New York?"

Val hesitates for a second, then answers, "I always loved visiting the bigger cities in Russia. When I had the opportunity to come to the city to learn English in high school, I couldn’t pass it up. Plus, NYC has really great food. I stayed because NYU has great hospitality and science pathways."

"Science, huh?" Dad says. "I always loved chemistry and math. I’d stand behind Laura when she was a kid and solve her math problems in my head. Then I would shout out the answer while she was still working."

And you were always wrong dad.

"I love science, too," Leigha chimes in, rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Chemistry is my favorite.”

Lies, she failed chemistry because she hated it so much and wouldn’t go to class.

Barbara laughs. "You always had a flair for the dramatic, Leigha," she says. "I still remember your meltdown during the science fair in tenth grade."

"Hey," Leigha protests, "that volcano was rigged!"

No, you added too much reactant to a structure that was too narrow. That is why your product exploded all over the judges.

The conversation continues, moving effortlessly between jokes and stories while I occasionally make a comment.

Val shares anecdotes from his childhood, like the time he and his cousins built a raft that sank immediately in the Black Sea. Dad tells a story about fishing trips from his own youth, while Barbara adds in her own, stories.

By the time we leave, Dad claps Val on the back and says, "Good to know my daughter has great taste."

Val smiles, his dark brown eyes crinkling with amusement as he says, "I think I got the better end of the deal."

I'm blushing as we step outside, my mind replaying the morning's conversations and the surprising ease of it all.

I think about how naturally Val fit in, how he laughed with my dad, teased Leigha, and answered Barbara's questions with genuine curiosity.

It feels like a glimpse of something I've always wanted: my family and my heart existing peacefully together.

It was never like this with Sam. Sam always wanted to control the conversation, upping whatever the other person was saying. And when he and daddy would start arguing, most nights I just walked on back to my single-wide home in the trailer park.

I feel a lingering warmth, a sense of cautious hope that maybe, just maybe, my family and Val could fit into the same world.

Val just grins and whispers, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was horrible," I reply. He doesn’t need to know why I didn’t enjoy myself completely. Some secrets are supposed to be just that, secrets. "But I'm glad you met them. Sorry I have to leave..."

“It’s okay, Laura. Spend time with your family. I need to go and ready anyway before work tonight. See you there?”

"Ummm," I look up at Val. "Actually, I'm off tonight as well. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Well, then I can't wait until tomorrow.”

After Val kisses me goodbye, I take my family to the 9/11 Memorial.

The warmth of syrup and coffee from the diner is replaced by the crisp air of the cool November day. The past few nights have been milder than normal, but predictions suggest there will be snow soon.

At the memorial, we walk quietly through the somber space, reading names.

The sound of water cascading into the memorial pools creates a gentle, rhythmic backdrop, while the chill in the air bites at our cheeks.

The faint scent of damp stone mixes with the fragrance of white roses placed in carved names, each one a silent tribute to a lost life.

Even Leigha is subdued, her usual sarcasm replaced by quiet contemplation. The wind whips through the plaza, carrying with it the faint scent of incoming rain and the hushed conversations of other visitors paying their respects.

"So, this is where the towers stood," Daddy says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I remember watching the news that day. It didn’t feel real. I was at work at the tire factory when we all watched it in the break room."

"Yeah," I murmur, linking my arm with his. "It still doesn’t sometimes. I was in algebra class and even though I saw the evidence, it's hard to wrap your head around."

"I don’t know how people can come here and not cry," Leigha says, wiping under her sunglasses. "It’s like the air is heavier. You can feel the sadness."

Barbara stands a few steps away, her gaze fixed on the endless cascade of water in the memorial pools. "It makes you remember what's important," she says quietly. "Family, love, the little moments."

We spend a few more minutes there, reading more names and watching people pass us by. The silence feels heavy, like a weighted blanket of remembrance. I wonder if it will feel this way years later.

After the 9/11 memorial, we head to a bustling shopping district. The change in atmosphere is stark, from reflective silence to the chaotic energy of tourists and locals alike. Street performers play upbeat jazz on the corner, and the smell of roasted nuts and hot pretzels wafts through the air.

"Okay, Barbara," Daddy jokes as we step into a boutique, "remember the suitcase limit."

"What suitcase limit?" Barbara replies with a wink, draping a scarf around her neck. "This one’s definitely coming home with me."

Leigha laughs, trying on a floppy hat and striking a dramatic pose in front of a mirror. "Do I look mysterious or just ridiculous?"

"A little of both," I tease, snapping a picture on my phone but also worrying about how much daddy is about to spend. "I'll send that to Val. He'll love the look."

We weave in and out of shops, Leigha collecting random souvenirs she'll likely forget about in a month, and Barbara eyeing every piece of jewelry she sees .

As we pass a quiet park, Daddy clears his throat. "Have you seen your mom lately?" he asks, voice carefully casual.

I stop mid-stride and turn to face him. "Why do you care?" My words come out sharper than I intended.

"I just...wondered," he says, holding up his hands defensively.

I sigh, “No…I haven’t seen her much recently. James has been traveling between Philadelphia and New Haven to help out," I say, crossing my arms. "And I know I should be doing more, but… I just don’t know how.”

Daddy steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug. My breath catches, my mind racing with conflicting emotions—surprise, confusion, and a hint of warmth. We haven’t shared a moment like this in years, and I don’t know whether to relax or pull away.