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Summary
Over the course of the three days, there are plenty of opportunities to tell Shane about Moscow.
There’s dinner the first night. They’re having pasta and salmon and Ilya’s whining about the amount of chicken and beef they’ll have to eat now that bulking season is approaching. Shane says well, they’re high protein foods. Like Ilya isn’t also a professional athlete who’s been doing this for just as long as he has. That’s not what he shoots back, though. He says, lamb is a great source of protein but we never have lamb. Okay, good lamb’s hard to find. You know what has lamb? Pelmeni! We should get Russian take out sometime soon, Shane says. I’ve always wanted to try. And always means nothing in this sentence, because always is only as long as they’ve known each other for.
Forget about take out, Ilya could say then. The best pelmeni can only be found in the motherland. Russia, Moscow! I am going there in ten days for a box of my dead-dad’s things and maybe, my dead-mother’s suicide note. But of course, he doesn’t.