Julia shifted in her seat and placed her hands in her lap. ‘Well, yes. Maybe a bit of everything.’
Elina nodded. ‘Not a little too much, then.’
Julia laughed. ‘Well, maybe I am asking for a lot.’
Elina took a fistful of her hair and brought it up off her neck, fanning her neck with the other hand, looking at the garden. ‘I know that feeling. I understand it.’
‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes. For the most part. But it’s not without a certain amount of ignoring things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Oh, it’s not even something to discuss in detail, but let’s just say that Iliya is tricky, has an itchy eye.’ Julia frowned, and Elina clarified. ‘He wanders.’
Julia understood. ‘His charm.’
‘Quite.’ Elina took a spoon and dipped it in a pot of raw honey that sat on the table, spun it around itself, and then brought it over her tea, watching as the glistening strands worked their way down into the cup.
‘They are all confused in some way, I suspect. Just like us.’
‘Probably worse.’ She stirred the spoon and let it rest. ‘Women are incredibly strong. But we reveal our weakness to each other, not to them.’
‘They don’t reveal a damn thing,’ Julia took a sip of tea and brought the cup back to the saucer. ‘We bring it out in them. So, it is up to us—’
‘—To be strong,’ Elina finished for her.
‘Absolutely. It is one of the best things about being a woman. Perseverance and sacrifice.’ She reached over and placed her hand on Julia’s. ‘Which is why you should never feel sorry for needing friends, yes? We need one another.’ She removed her hand and curled it around her teacup.
A cluster of birds flew out of a tree, beating their wings against the leaves. When Elina began to speak, there was a wildness in her eyes matched the thoughts that suddenly unraveled into the space between them. ‘I found him those many years ago, when he was lost. I saved him, and took him in, and gave him what I could. I became his mother, his sister, his lover. I was the only person he had. And yet, instead of openness because of our past, it’s as if we hide from each other in plain day.’ She looked into Julia’s eyes, her own eyes calm and even, as if she’d thought about these things her entire life and knew how to understand them. ‘Sometimes I feel as though I’ll burst, and yet, I have trained myself to let it go.’
Julia felt a peculiar strength blossom in her story. ‘I imagine it must be difficult.’
Elina leaned on her elbow, her head delicately perched in her fingers, with a crooked smile. ‘It is. But we sacrifice and we persevere. And look how strong we are.’
‘She’s three? My goodness, she’s very tall for three.’ Elina watched as Slava clutched a pencil, her tongue out in concentration at the paper. Her little body perched sweetly on the edge of the chair.
‘Yes,’ Julia nodded placing her hands on her lap and smoothed her skirts over her stomach. She ached for the recent loss, but when she looked over at Slava, she reminded herself to be patient. ‘She is tall, like Henry.’
Elina wore a simple cotton dress the color of butter, and flat shoes. She always looked beautiful, despite limited options. Her hair shone, and her cheeks looked flushed and coy under her freckles. Julia envied that.
‘How are you both?’ It was uncommon for even close friends to ask such questions, but for them, it felt normal.
Julia explained her frustration with Henry but apologized for revealing such intimate details of their marriage. She had no one that she could trust, and over the last few months, Elina had become a confidante, friend, and advisor. The friendship had centered Julia.
Her thin arm reached across. ‘Oh, sweet Julia. I do think they are all like this, these stupid, arrogant men. Or maybe we picked the best of them. Lucky us, eh?’ She smiled, but it looked more like a wince. ‘Listen, our men have been through so much. They have a temper. It’s absolutely normal. Nothing to get upset about.’
‘But he has never been that way with me, at least not when we met, that I’m certain of.’ Julia straightened in her chair. ‘And he can be very sweet, and he works so hard.’
Elina withdrew her hand and placed it on her lap. ‘Well, yes, I can sense that. But war changes people. Look at Iliya.’
‘Can you tell me?’ Julia had begun to learn more about him and was curious.
‘Too much pain, in here.’ Elina pointed to her temple. ‘He gets angry often. He wants to control his life, and me I imagine, and likes things to be a certain way. His temper is explosive. Impulsive.’ She shrugged. ‘But, like all the others I imagine, he loves strongly.’
‘The past is strong in his memory then. It’s a hard battle.’
‘Yes.’
Julia nodded. ‘I know how he feels.’
Elina cocked her head in sympathy. ‘Oh, Julia. We all have such strange beginnings. Stringing together our lives with little bits of hope.’
Julia glanced at Slava, happily occupied. ’Elina, can I tell you something?’
‘Of course.’
Julia tread carefully. She would reveal a weakness, and she felt somehow that it would risk something in herself. She would remember this, in the future. She would remember how she laid herself bare, and that this could give someone power over her. But at the time, it felt right.
‘I lost one.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I... was pregnant, and then...’
Elina covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Oh God, Julia. How far along?’
‘Two months, I think.’ Julia smiled through her tears, reaching for strength. ‘I’m alright now.’
Elina reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘Does Henry know?’
‘He does. This one.’
Elina knew exactly what Julia meant, and her expression withered. ‘Oh, Julia. I’m so sorry. Were there many?’
‘Two before. He was kind. Understanding.’
‘You’re lucky.’
‘Sometimes.’ Julia sighed. ‘It’s never always perfect, is it.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘What about you? Have you ever—’
Elina shook her head, looking down at her wedding band and fingered the smooth metal. ‘No, it’s never happened. Never even stuck, so to speak. Not meant to be.’ She looked up. ‘And I had thought it would, standing in your kitchen that evening when we met, that it might.’
‘I remember that.’ Julia put her hand on top of Elina’s smiling at the memory. ‘But it could, no? Life happens in strange ways.’
Elina smiled sadly. ‘No, I don’t think it will. We’ve been to the doctors, and I am not sure how they can detect these kinds of things, but the doctor said it is common for the woman not to be able to carry. I suspect it’s me.’
The waitress came by to clear their coffees, and the women nodded a silent thank you. She was about to speak and then thought better of it, seeing their faces.
Elina continued, lowering her voice. ‘When Iliya is drunk, he reminds me as much. Says I am like a lame horse— pretty to look at, but useless.’ She pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and looked at Julia. “Funny, right?’
‘No, Elina. That’s not. That’s terrible.’
Elina threw her hands up. ‘Well, such is life. We must abide and be happy with what we’ve been given. Make the best of it.’ She winked at Julia, her standard way of protecting herself. But her eyes showed a kind of defeat.
‘Maybe one day, Elina. You are young. You have plenty of time.’
‘I am not. Twenty-five is not young.’ She smoothed her hair and brushed a lock of it behind her ear. Anyway. You are very lucky.’
‘In what way?’
‘It’s happened once. It can easily happen again, despite the losses.’ Elina looked up, straight into Julia’s eyes. ‘It will happen again. You will be a mother. I just know it.’ She looked over at Slava, her hair done in two shining braids resting on her shoulders.
’Slava, can you tell Elina what you’re drawing?�
� Julia rested her hand on her small had.
‘Heart,’ Slava looked up at Julia, and then Elina. ‘For you.’ She handed over the small piece of paper, a muted pink heart scrawled on it in messy, bold strokes.
‘Thank you,’ Elina smiled, her eyes watering, and looked over at Julia. ‘Maybe one day.’
When they parted, and Julia glided over the front steps of the house and walked home, she kept her hands folded across her chest as she walked, heavy with new thoughts. She and Elina had secrets, hiding in plain day. It emboldened her and also undid her, knowing that such strength existed in these kinds of revelations. Elina had given up her life to save someone, and she compromised who she was to create a stable life. Was that enough for her? Was any of it enough for them all? It posed a few questions for Julia that she couldn’t answer.
That evening as she sat with Slava, her arms around her sweat-sticky sleepy body, reading a story but not really listening to the words; her thoughts were on the things that had been stirred up from the afternoon, like silt in the sea.
When Henry came home that evening, she threaded her arms through his, and around his waist, and reached her face up to his, testing to see what would settle back down.
11
It was a month later that Julia’s knees stung from the gravel and dry grass digging into her flesh, so she slid onto her backside, finishing what she had started. She was tending to the past, positioning a small row of white stones into the shape of a cross. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered as the soft ground collected under her nails.
The loss had happened early, and had been brief this time, and the pain hadn’t been too great. This time Henry knew what was happening to her, though she didn’t tell him about the ones before. Maybe we should stop trying, he had said to her, when he found her standing by the outhouse in the semi-darkness, waiting for him, leaning against the corroded wooden side with her arms folded. Maybe we should just persevere. Keep trying, she had replied, and he held her, confused as to what he could have done, or even what he could do now.
Today, in the full hot sun of the afternoon, she needed to remember; she needed to remember in order to someday forget.
As she sat and watched Slava dart into and out of her periphery, Julia was slowly realizing that it was Slava that was teaching her—the impact of her physical and emotional presence, and the fact that she craved her was a gift that Julia was grateful for, and wanted more of. This childhood was an anchor for all of them now, and for Julia especially, and she craved to be surrounded by children, a table full of voices, as though transporting herself back to Lviv. The way her mother’s skin would smell of salt and spices and oil, the air thick with onions and mushrooms and dough and flour rising; these are the things that mothers create for their children: sensory memories that are permanently etched. And within that, lay the foundation of love.
Henry came home early enough for the light to still be settling on the fields, and to have dinner with Slava, which pleased them all. They craved the smell of him, the stale, sweetness of smoke like he’d been forged in a fire. That was their security.
‘Papa! Papa...!’ Slava tapped him incessantly on the arm, her voice almost at shouting level.
He kissed her and waved her off. ‘Slava, stop being so loud. What? What do you want to say that’s so important, hmmm?’
‘I climbed a tree!’
He splayed his hands exaggeratedly. ‘The whole thing?’
‘The bottom!’
‘Keep practicing, that’s not terribly high,’ he teased, tousling her hair.
‘Henry, don’t be mean.’ Julia looked over at Slava now nibbling on her peas, one by one, pinching them between her fingers.
Henry looked at Julia, scowling. ‘What’s with you today?’
Julia glared. She had two choices: she could either reply or stay silent. Her reply would be met with a withering comment, the conversation would be a cyclical battle that she would inevitably lose, and that was the dynamic that he often favored. So, she stayed silent, as she had done lately. She didn’t know what to expect when he came home, and there was no point in battling him.
Dinner finished in a productive silence. Julia thumbed the broken edge of a glass and Henry finished a second helping of potatoes, scraping the plate. He stepped outside for a cigarette.
‘Shall I put her to bed, then?’ Julia threw over her shoulder as she tidied the plates away.
Silence.
Later, she read to Slava. She made bedtime long and protracted, and she had invented a story about an evil queen who put a curse on a village, and the curse was that anytime someone was unkind, they would turn into a toad. It felt good to smile.
‘... and then--’ she wrinkled her nose and put her face in front of Slava’s-- ‘there was a village full of horrible, smelly toads!’
Slava grimaced. ‘Eww Mama! How could the curse be broken?’
Julia gripped her tightly, her hands moving her silky hair off her face. ‘Oh, love. Only true love can break any curse. And true love is always the best kind.’ She kissed her.
Henry appeared in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. ‘Hit a nerve, did I?’ And he disappeared again.
In half an hour, Slava was asleep, and Julia walked out of the bedroom.
'What exactly is your problem tonight?’, Henry immediately challenged when he saw her. He was sat on the couch skimming a newspaper, holding a cup of tea, milky white.
Julia placed her hands on her hips. ‘Well, your words hurt me sometimes.’
‘What?? Since when did you stop having a sense of humor?’
‘That’s not fair. You only see the things you want to see; hear the things you want to hear.’ Julia sat down heavily on a chair opposite. ‘It’s as if you only see some of us and I feel invisible. I imagine that you’re overworked...’
Henry interrupted, raising his hand to stop her. ‘This makes absolutely no sense, you sound crazy.’
‘Well, you asked me what was wrong--’
‘And I was hoping you’d say something a little bit more constructive rather than pointing at the ways that I’m failing you.’
Julia stood up, and he motioned her to sit back down. ‘Please.’ She remained.
He lit a cigarette. ‘You think I’m overworked.’
Julia nodded.
He exhaled a plume of smoke. ‘Yes, how about that, then? I'm trying my best and some days are better than others, do you ever notice that? I love you, but what do you want from me?’ he brought his open palms out, cigarette bobbing in the corner of his mouth. ‘What exactly do I have? I find pleasure in drink, in smoking, and occasionally, only occasionally mind you,’ he pinched the cigarette between his fingers and pointed it, ‘laying with you. And even that has something to be desired.’ He delivered the words in such a protracted and measured way, it made them sting so much more. It was vicious. Her body tensed as she sat in her spot, silent.
He continued. ‘You think I wanted any of this? But I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I? Why can’t you understand that?’
She raised her hand up. She’d had enough.
‘But I do understand. But as much as you need me to listen to you, I need you to listen to me, and what I want and who I am. I am equally found and lost here.’ Her voice was removed, as if a light had gone out of her. ‘How do you think I feel, being the quiet little wife married to a self-important man, sitting at home taking care of the child that he barely sees? I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?’
He stood up and walked over to her, grabbing both of her shoulders and willing himself not to shake her. ‘Yes, we are both struggling, but we have it better than most. We left Germany with a promise—’ he set his teeth at that word, ‘—a promise, to each other, to try and build a life together which is what we are doing. You cannot run back to the broken walls and empty rooms of your memories. This is what marriage is. This. It’s a promise to stay.’
She nodded. There was something to be said for perseverance. Elina had said t
hat to her. It couldn’t just be about love.
They went to bed that night in a separate stony silence, but eventually reached for each other and found a quiet acceptance. Of course, Julia loved him, because he was her husband, but she understood that the desire she had was not for him, it was for her own happiness.
The next morning, Julia had gotten up before dawn, packing Henry’s lunch and boiling two eggs and cutting fresh bread for breakfast. The smell of bitter coffee filled the room. It was up to her, she thought. Her own strength would grow in her head and be turned over and over again like dough.
His shirt crackled under the stiff cotton of his jacket as he threw it on his shoulders.
‘I’m not coming home tonight.’ His voice had a finality in it that made her ache with apologies.
‘Why?’ I’ve failed, was her instant thought. And then she reprimanded herself silently. She couldn’t keep doing that, it diminished her.
‘The cutters’ camp is easier for me to sleep in after finishing work. Plus, I may get extra time in today so that I can get more money.’ He set about putting a small sandwich in his bag, not looking at her.
‘Okay, I understand.’ Slava started to rustle in the other room, murmuring half-asleep noises.
He straightened up, looking at her. ‘Julia, I may stay a couple days, I don’t know. I just…’
‘What?
His face looked as if he would soften to her, and make amends, and tell them to try again and forget about what had happened, and she wished he would. But he didn’t. ‘It feels confusing right now, this…’ -- he gestured to the space between them—’this, whatever it is.’
She grabbed his arm and came closer. ‘Running away isn’t the solution, Henry. Sometimes we have to try harder to see it through.’ He dropped her hands. ‘Is it because we haven’t been able to have children?’
‘No. But maybe space is something where you and I can figure out a new way of doing things. Everyone has tricky moments.’
‘Sure.’ She stared at him.
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