The Summer Garden (53 page)

“Oh, I don’t want to talk about that now.”

“I do. That night, I was in Sadko, and Marazov had women with him, and one of them, very flirtatious, sat on my lap. I was drunk, and young, and full of myself, as you remember—and I barely knew you then. We had behind us only the Sunday bus ride, the Kirov walks, and burning Luga. And we were at a complete dead end. It would’ve been so easy. I could have taken that girl in ten minutes in the back alley and still come to see you at the hospital and you would have never known. But I didn’t—even then. I came to you in the middle of the night, despite everything stacked against us, despite Dimitri, despite your sister, who thought she loved me.”

“She did love you. Dasha did love you.”

“Yes. She thought she did.”

“Oh…help me,” she whispered.

“I came to you because you were the only one I wanted. Do you remember how we kissed that night?” he whispered, cupping her breast. “You, sitting topless in front of me, you who had never been touched—oh God! I go insane
now
remembering the state of myself then. You know what it had meant to me, and you know what it means to me still. Don’t you remember anything?”

Tatiana was shuddering in her own memories. “I remember…But…”

“Look at me, feel my body, touch me, touch my heart, I’m right here. It’s me,” said Alexander. “I stayed away from whores even when I thought you were gone from my life and I was at war. I shouldn’t have gone to the Ho, but, honestly, what would I want with anyone when I have you? Who are you talking to? Who are you being angry with?”

“Oh, Shura…” she whispered, clinging to him.

“You know all this like you know my name,” said Alexander. “I come every night and kneel at your altar. Why do you worry about nonsense?”

And with his voice and his hands, with his lips and eyes, his kisses and caresses, and deathless ways about him to bring her and himself divine ecstasy, he soothed her and found peace and bliss in her, for his promises were strong but his love was stronger, and when they, wrapped around one another, finally fell asleep, made up, relieved, beloved, they believed the worst of the Balkman world was behind them.

A Day at a Wedding

Jeff and Cindy’s wedding
was the following Saturday afternoon, at the First Presbyterian Church with reception at the Scottsdale Country Club, filled with white lilies and beautiful people dressed in spring colors.

Standing at the side of the altar in her strapless peach taffeta ball-gown with a circle ruffled petticoat, Tatiana stared at Alexander in his black tuxedo, trying not to remember their own altar, their small Russian church, their Lazarevo sun over their heads filtering through the stained-glass windows almost ten years ago.

She saw his face, his eyes staring at her. Outside the church he found her and very carefully—so as not to disturb her peach bows and silk pleats and petticoats—lifted her into the air for a moment without saying a word.

There was good food and good music, the girls had flowers in their hair, someone caught the bouquet—not Amanda—steak was good, shrimp even better, the speeches slurred and funny. Cindy was a good-looking bride, even with her too-short hair, and Jeff in a white tux looked like he belonged on a wedding cake. Ten of them sat together at the bridal table, and Steve kept alluding to the bachelor party, and Alexander kept humoring him, but the one who wasn’t laughing was Amanda. Rather she was laughing fakely and every time she laughed she cast furtive glances at Alexander and then at Tatiana. After the nineteenth or twentieth furtive glance, Tatiana couldn’t help but notice.

The Anniversary Waltz began to play—for Jeff and Cindy. Tatiana searched for Alexander; he was talking to people three tables away and didn’t look up. She resumed her own conversation, but in a moment, when she turned, he was standing at her chair. He stretched out his hand to her.

Alexander and Tatiana danced to their wedding song, unable this once to hide their intimacy from prying, idly curious eyes; their hands entwined, their bodies pressed together, they waltzed by the banks of the Kama in their Lazarevo clearing under the crimson moon, an officer in his Red Army uniform, a peasant girl in her wedding dress—her white dress with red roses—and when Tatiana lifted her glistening eyes to him, Alexander was looking down at her with his I’ll-get-on-the-bus-for-you-anytime face. She couldn’t believe it—he bent his head and kissed her, openly and deeply, as they continued to swirl away the minutes of someone else’s wedding.

As they walked back to the table, Tatiana saw Amanda’s cold, judging stare on Alexander and a pitying glance on herself. “Why is she looking at me like that?” Tatiana whispered to him. “What’s wrong with her today?”

“She must stop giving him milk. Tell her that.”

Her elbow went in his ribs.

Steve and Jeff were getting quite drunk, even though it was still the afternoon. Their comments about the upcoming wedding night started getting cruder. Jeff plonked down and said, “Alexander, you’ve been married a century. Do you have any advice for the newly married?”

Another glance from Amanda.

Alexander said, “It’s probably too late for advice, Jeffrey-boy. Wedding night’s in three hours.”

“Come on, give me the wealth of your experience. What did you do on your wedding night?”

“Drank a little less than you,” said Alexander, and Tatiana laughed.

“Come on, man, don’t hold out. Tania, tell me, is there anything I should know? From a woman’s point of view?”

Oh, how loudly Steve laughed.

“Jeff, all right, enough, man,” Alexander said, getting up and helping Jeff straighten out, pushing him away from the table.

“If I were Jeff,” whispered Tatiana to Alexander, “I’d spend some time doing the thing that Cindy says he almost never does—but that’s just from a woman’s point of view.” Oh how loudly Alexander now laughed, and Steve, who must have thought it was at his expense, glared at Tatiana.

She got up to go to the ladies’ room. Amanda got up to go with her. As they were walking around the dance floor, Tatiana said, “What’s the matter with you today? You don’t seem very happy.”

“No, I am, I am.”

“What is it? Cindy’s wedding making you blue?” Tatiana stayed dry through her own irony.

“No, no. I mean, a little, yes, but…” She took Tatiana by the arm. “Can I talk to you?”

“Seriously talk to me?”

“I need your advice.”

Last time the advice giving didn’t go so well. They went into one of the small quiet rooms off the main banquet hall and sat down on the couch. “What’s going on?” said Tatiana.

Amanda looked distressed. “Tania, I don’t know what a good friend is supposed to do. I want to ask you—if you knew something about Steve, something you thought I should know, would you tell me?”

Tatiana’s face flushed hot red. Oh, no. Amanda found out about the hospital! No wonder she’s upset. What to do now, I must own up. I should’ve told her straight away, but how could I have—and Tatiana said, “Oh, look, Mand, I’m sorry—”

“What I want to know is: would a good friend tell her friend something unpleasant, something hurtful, something that could ruin their friendship? Does a good friend keep her mouth shut or is she obligated to say something? Is the mark of a good friend to tell or not to tell?” Amanda lifted her conflicted eyes to Tatiana.

You weren’t my good friend! Tatiana cried to herself. It’s not fair, I didn’t know you, and he apologized and it was in the past. I should never have kept my mouth shut.

“I think a good friend should tell, Amanda,” said Tatiana. “I’m sorry—”

Amanda grabbed Tatiana’s hands. “I’m sorry, Tania. I don’t want to tell you this. I really don’t. I just think you should know, that’s all.”

Very slowly Tatiana pulled her hands away from Amanda and stared hard at her cringing. “You have something to tell
me
?”

“It’s about that cursed bachelor party. I wish they’d never had it.”

“I know about the bachelor party,” Tatiana said.

Amanda waved her off. “Oh, the girls, that’s meaningless.”

“Oh? Well, if it’s not about the meaningless naked girls, then what is it?”

She lowered her voice. “Alexander went into the bedroom with one of them.”

Tatiana shook her head.

Amanda shook her head. “The drunk was later, Tania,” she said. “That was for your benefit. As in, later the excuse was he got so drunk he couldn’t think straight. He was apparently fine when the girls were there. A number of people saw him go in, not just Stevie, please don’t be upset with me, you promise?”

“I think it’s too late for that promise,” said Tatiana, standing up.

Amanda covered her face.

Tatiana, because her legs wouldn’t hold her, sat back down. She took Amanda’s hands away. “Amanda,” she said, “did Steve tell you this?”

Amanda nodded.

Tatiana tried to keep it together. “Did it ever occur to you that Steve might be lying?”

“What?”

“Lying, Mand. Not telling the truth. Shuckstering. Deceiving. Lying.”

“Why would Steve lie about this?”

“There are a thousand reasons, none of them I can go into now. Why would you repeat something like this to me on Cindy’s wedding day? Why wouldn’t you wait at least until the day after?”

“You asked me to tell you!”

Tatiana patted her. “Well, I walked into a trap there. But now I have two options. Either I believe my husband, or I believe your fiancé. My Alexander or your Steve. You’ll forgive me if I choose to believe my husband. And you know what, let’s not talk about this—ever again. If that’s all right with you.”

“Tania, you’re being willfully blind, but that’s your choice.”

“You think I’m being blind? There is only one way to settle this. We can bring Steve and Alexander in here—is that what you want? How do you think that’s going to end?”

“One of them is going to lie,” Amanda said pointedly.

“Exactly, but unlike you,” Tatiana said, plenty pointed herself, “I am married to the man who sleeps next to me every night, who wakes up next to me every morning.” She paused to let that sink in. “How often do you think he can lie before I know the truth? Especially that kind of truth—that he goes into rooms for twenty minutes and has it off with unclean whores who have it off with hundreds of men? You think that truth is easy to hide?”

“Some men are very good at hiding their true selves.”

“Some women are very good at not seeing their men’s true selves.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes. “Are you making some kind of aspersions on Steve?”

“No. But if we bring Alexander and Stevie in here—how many more stitches can Steve get in his face, how many more broken arms? And Cindy’s wedding will be ruined. You’ve already ruined my day. But I’m not the bride, I don’t have to recall this as my wedding day, which was blissfully unmarred by idiocy.” She took a deep breath. “So we’re just going to pretend that you never said a word to me.”

“But it’s true, Tania! I know you don’t want to believe it about Alexander—”

“No! You don’t want to believe this about Steve.”

“Tell me what you know about Steve.”

“In this case, that he is a malicious liar. Is that enough? The rest is more than I have the decency to share with you on this beautiful day. And you, Amanda, should open your eyes to your life. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Tatiana walked out of the room in her peach high heels and her taffeta dress.

Amanda came back to the table, without glancing at Alexander, who sat patiently, drank his wine, and finally asked Amanda where Tatiana was. Amanda said she didn’t know. Alexander waited a little longer and went to look for her. He walked the corridors and looked into every small room. He went outside to the back gardens where the photographers were setting up for the final photo of the bride and groom. Around the corner of the country club, he found her standing against the back wall, her arms by her side, her fists pressed into the stone behind her. Her eyes were closed, and she was hyperventilating.

“Tania?” he said with worry. She opened her eyes and stared cold and hard at him. She didn’t speak, not even when he touched her. “What happened?”

She said in a low dull voice, “What have you done to us, Alexander? What have you let into our house?” She couldn’t step away from the wall. Her knees were shaking. “I don’t know what to do anymore. How to help you, how to stop their subterfuge. I thought I gave you what you needed most from me.”

“What are you
talking
about?”

“But when are you going to give me what I need from you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What I need from you,” she said, “is not to be blind. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he said. “I can do that. What’s going on?”

Shaking her head, she took his arm and stepped away from the wall. “I can’t stay here another minute. Call me a cab and I’ll go home. You stay as long as you want.”

“You can’t leave in the middle of a wedding! What a scandal. We have to stay for the cake.”

“I can’t stay here another minute.” Tatiana put her face in her hands. She couldn’t look at him. “I need to go home. Tell them I wasn’t feeling well. It’s not a lie.”

She refused to go inside even to say good-bye. Alexander went back to make his apologies to Jeff, and they went home. What was happening?

She kept saying, I’m doing the best I can. She kept repeating it like a mantra. But she wouldn’t tell him anything. He felt things start to slip away from him, invisible things, threads unraveling on a blanket he didn’t know was covering him.

No, he knew.

The blanket of his new calling, his new father, his new friends, his new brother. He chose them. They chose him. He chose them despite her tight-lipped reservations, because he believed she was naïve and her worries were unfounded. He still believed that. Days now since the wedding, and she still wasn’t talking.

Eventually he asked her silent stoic back, “Who are you trying to protect?”

And she replied through her back: “You.” She was washing the dishes.

“Turn around.” She turned. “I need protecting?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying it, but yes, as much as ever.”