Katerina had been upstairs when she heard the door being knocked on, Ivan excusing himself to go answer it for her. She had given him the sweetest smile before returning to the phonograph, picking out music for dinner. This last week has been so lovely. Waking up, going out to breakfast with Ivan, walking in the parks, him escorting her to church and returning later to take her home. Going to the cafes and bookstores, coming home and eating dinner (she’s really been cooking, can you believe it?), and talking about many things while the phonograph played something nice in the background. Sometimes afterwards they’d sit in front of the fireplace, music still playing, drinking tea and talking more. She chattered about her past and Ivan spoke calmly about his own, they’d argue gently about religion and, in the first few days, D’mitri. Getting along so well with her sure-to-be-brother-in-law is wonderful, and she does truly look forward to meeting this ‘Alyosha.’ Ivan only had childhood memories to tell of him for the most part, but she’s interested all the same.
She can hear a man’s voice in their exchange and she wonders if the mail has come early today. It’s not until the voices travel further inside that she realizes how off the mark she is. With a gasp, she drops the records, hurrying to get off her knees, nearly tearing her tooling and skirt in the process. Stumbling to the hallway, her hands brace the archway, a near squeal emitting from her throat as the man hanging his coat turns at her blundering noises, revealing himself to be—
“D’mitri!!” she cries out, stepping up to him, wringing her hands in excitement. “Oh you came, you came!” Quickly to Ivan, “Oh I told you he would, but of course he would. Yes, yes.” She laughs brightly, resting her hands on his arms. Oh he’s change a bit, hasn’t it? Such a nice suit is so unbefitting of him. Even so, her smile softens to something even more lovely from just before. The sentiment is terribly sweet though; coming to see his sure-to-be-fiancée in his best clothes! Really, that is so sweet. “Oh, D’mitri! We must get you a change of clothes, you look so unlike yourself! I want you to be comfortable, not so stiff, you poor thing. Poor thing, yes…” That same dreamy smile, “For the wedding, wear your uniform so you’ll be comfortable, alright?”
It’s now that she remembers. “Oh!” She spins her D’mitri to his left, facing him towards Ivan. “Forget about me! You’ll have the rest of your life to think of me, but no, no! Not right now! Think of him instead!” She takes each of their right hands, quickly thrusting them together, pulling the men awkwardly forward at least a step. “D’mitri Dear, this is Ivan! Ivan Fyodorovich Karamazov—yes!” Katerina can hardly keep from giggling, rather pleased with herself for convincing Ivan to stay for this very purpose. Looking between the two of them, “Well, well? Go on, say hello!”