Painting Home

by Jolma, Erika;

  Feodora cut her off. "You don't have to…ummm, you know…with anyone, Tanya."

  She considered the idea for several minutes. She was getting desperate. She was paid up for only a couple more weeks and the cash from the sale of Nicolai's violin was quickly dwindling. Two hundred fifty rubles would definitely help.

  "Plus, Tawn, you'll start showing soon, which means no man will hire you…to do anything. You need to make money now when you still have your figure."

  Tanya rubbed her still-flat stomach. Feodora was right. She couldn't ignore that she was pregnant and desperate. She had to do something, and if she could earn two hundred fifty rubles for a little flirting, well, she could do that.

  For Nicolai's baby, she would do almost anything.

  And so, the decision was made. Feodora flew into preparation mode. After sending a messenger down to the army base, she tugged a tattered cardboard box out from under her cot and explained to Tanya that she would have to look beautiful to be able to play the part.

  The next few hours were spent forcing Tanya into lacy unmentionables and altering the dreadful green dress so that it at least stayed up on Tanya's slight frame. As they sewed, Feodora coached her on what to do, what to say, and how to say it so that she'd be perfectly worthy of her earnings the next night.

  Tanya fell asleep heartsick. Out of habit, she had started to pray. Lord? Is this really Your will? That I let an officer pay me to flirt with him?

  But no booming voice from heaven directed her, and no miraculous answer to her dilemma presented itself.

  Of course it hadn't. She had given up on God. It wasn’t as though He would listen to her now.

  She kept with her plan. Had it only been this morning that she had wrapped her hair in rags and then dunked it in the basin to wet it? Sitting on her bunk, she let her hair air-dry while Feodora carefully rubbed pink rouge into her cheeks and blue cream eye shadow onto her eyelids. And then, just a few hours ago, she’d presented herself at the ballroom to one Lieutenant Andrei Pudovkin, officer in the great Red Army and her official date for the night.

  She had to admit Lieutenant Pudovkin wasn't nearly as bad as she had expected.

  No boorish comments or sweat-soaked shirt.

  He was clearly a shy and uncomfortable man who had absolutely no experience with women.

  "Hi, soldier.” She tried to saunter like Feodora had shown her, but her legs shook as she balanced on too-high shoes. Sidling up next to the Lieutenant, she brushed her hand against his shoulder.

  "Hi, Miss Egerov." He forced an awkward smile.

  "Tell me, Lieutenant Pudovkin, what heroic actions earned you a ticket to this gala?"

  "You can call me Andrei. And I flew fourteen missions over Helsinki last winter,” he whispered, clearly uncomfortable about the situation. He wasn't the only one.

  Tanya did everything she could not to sprint out of the ballroom and back to the boardinghouse.

  "And you, Sir Andrei, can call me Tanya." She drummed up her most flirtatious look, which probably ended up looking more like a forced grimace.

  What would Nicolai think of her now? He would've laughed hilariously. And then he would've taken her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

  But Nicolai was gone.

  And Andrei clearly wasn't one to take girls into his arms. Not that she wanted him to.

  "Want to grab something to eat?" Andrei offered his elbow and led her to the large buffet table laden with platters of delicacies. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep drool from dripping out of the corners of her mouth. Feodora had warned her to only eat if Lieutenant Pudovkin offered, and it had taken every bit of willpower to restrain herself from digging in.

  Thank goodness, he offered! She was so delighted she could’ve kissed him…almost.

  She piled her plate high with slices of ham, grapes, and bread with pate, careful not to overdo it. Wouldn't it be her luck to end up with a stomach ache tonight of all nights? No, she would eat reasonably.

  Once she’d selected her food, she followed Andrei to a quiet table in the corner and waited as he pulled out her chair. Reminding herself that she had a job to do, she inched closer to him and gave her best smile. "This looks delicious, Lieutenant. But the meal wouldn't be complete without something to drink. Can I grab you a cup of coffee?"

  Andrei cleared his throat. "Some vodka would be great."

  Vodka. This could change things. And not for the better.

  But he was paying her, so she had no choice but to oblige.

  "It’s all right, Tanya. It's a job," she whispered as she stood up. She reminded herself to swing her hips as she walked. She had practiced this walk at least twenty times for Feodora last night, and now she was grateful for the instruction.

  What had she been so worried about? She could do this. A few hours of flirting and she'd have two hundred fifty rubles in her pocket. And a full stomach.

  Returning with the vodka for Andrei and a glass of water for herself, Tanya set the drinks down at the table and took her own seat. Scooting as close to him as she could, she crossed her legs suggestively and looked into his eyes. "Shall we?"

  "Looks delicious."

  "Yes, it does." Tanya forced herself to eat slowly instead of inhaling the food so the lieutenant wouldn't guess it was the only meal she'd eaten in weeks. She finished her last bite.

  Feodora strolled over to them, clinging flirtatiously to a dark-eyed officer who clearly enjoyed her attention.

  "Hi, there, Miss Egerov! Lieutenant Pudovkin." As she talked, the strap on her red satin dress slipped off her shoulder, revealing creamy white skin. "Oh, my!" she looked up at her date with a wink. "Looks as if this dress is just aching to come off."

  Tanya's mouth dropped open. Was her friend really that shameless?

  The officer grinned. "Maybe I should take you out back and we can teach that naughty dress a lesson."

  Feodora's mouth curved into a tiny circle and she giggled. "Oh, but Lieutenant, that would be so inappropriate—what with all of these people waiting for you to get your award." She beamed up at him and kissed him on the lips as though they were long lost lovers. She certainly was good at her job.

  Shaking her head slowly, Tanya forced a smile at good old Andrei, the man willing to pay her to sit by him looking beautiful. He didn't seem to expect anything more.

  What a relief.

  "Care to dance, Lieutenant?" She'd already stood and pulled toward the dance floor.

  "I'm not very good at it."

  She did her best to keep her voice from cracking as sentences Feodora had practiced with her last night poured out of her mouth. "Don't lie to me. I know a smooth dancer when I see one. I bet you could dance me out of this room."

  He smiled tentatively and shrugged. "Well, it looks as if I don't have a choice, do I?"

  "That's the spirit." She pulled his arms around her waist, shuddering at her own audacity. Was she really acting like this? She pushed her warnings out of her mind and allowed her body to sink into his strong chest. If she closed her eyes, maybe she could pretend he was Nicolai.

  Nope.

  Nicolai would never have stomped on her toes. Plus, Nicolai smelled like hard work and lye soap. This man smelled like cologne. Better to keep her eyes wide open and pretend her heart wasn't still too bruised to think about Nicolai without crying.

  Tanya rested her head against her new reality.

  No, he wasn't Nicolai, but he also wasn't a monster. He had treated her kindly all night.

  "Do you like the band?" she asked.

  "Oh, yes. Everything about this night has been wonderful." He winked at her. Oh, goodness. She forced herself to giggle as he pulled her close, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder.

  As the song ended, he leaned back, his arms resting on her lower back, his gaze slipping over her shoulder toward the back door.

  "Want to go outside?"

  Tanya swallowed hard. Feodora had promised her it would be dinner, dancing, flirting and a nice pay day b
efore she headed home…not a trip outside to do who-knew-what. Her gaze drifted around the room, searching frantically for Feodora. No such luck. Feodora was probably outside doing who-knew-what with her own lieutenant.

  Tanya looked up into Andrei's eyes and found desperation. If she said no, would he not pay her? She took a deep breath and forced herself to soften her clenched jaw, hoping to erase the panic from her face. Not worth the risk—she needed that money. Desperately. "Let's go, lieutenant."

  She wouldn’t sleep with him. But she could give him a tiny kiss behind the ballroom in exchange for his two hundred fifty rubles. Her feet didn't seem to agree with her as she followed him to the back doorway, each step heavier than the next. As though walking to her death. In a way, she was. Turning to him, she smiled and leaned in close. "I had fun with you tonight, Lieutenant. In fact, if you ever need a date again, you know who to call." Smooth and calm, she reminded herself. Stay smooth and calm.

  He beamed.

  He did remember he was paying her, didn't he? Licking her lips, she forced herself not to back away as he leaned in and kissed her, gently at first, then passionately. Stay calm. This is just a job. She must have succeeded. When he pulled back a minute later, he grinned as if she had handed him ten thousand rubles.

  What had she done? She pinned her hands behind her back to keep them from trembling. "Thanks for inviting me here tonight, Andrei." She said the words softly, as if she really meant it. And part of her did. "We'd better get inside. I wouldn't want to miss you getting your award."

  "No, we wouldn't want that," he said with a tinge of sadness to his tone.

  Maybe Andrei had his own demons? For a moment, Tanya's heart ached for him, knowing all too well how it felt like to love and lose.

  Swallowing a sob, she turned toward the ballroom, careful to swing her hips as Feodora had taught her. She looked exactly like the woman she had become.

  Someone who sold her dignity for bread.

  19

  Leningrad, Russia

  "So?" Feodora shook her awake by kicking the legs on her cot roughly.

  "Go away, Fe!" Tanya closed her eyes and sank beneath her scratchy blanket, wishing she could just disappear under the covers and forget everything.

  "Come on, Tawnie. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

  "Yes!" Tanya bolted upward and threw a pillow at Feodora before she raced down the steps to relieve herself. "It was that bad." Downstairs, Tanya quickly used the outhouse but stopped herself in the muddy yard before returning inside.

  The sun peeked out behind tiny white clouds, making a perfect backdrop for the bright yellow and orange leaves that had changed to their new fall color. The morning air cooled her skin, and a chill ran down her bare arms. Overhead, the shrill of an unfamiliar bird called. The breeze whispered of promises.

  If only her mood matched the beauty of the day.

  Tugging her sweater closer, Tanya yawned deeply. She was exhausted. Last night, she had tossed and turned for hours, stifling the realization that she would never again be the woman she had tried so hard to be. It was all lost now. Her innocence.Her resolve. And any hope for a different life.

  "Lord, what have I done?" A reminiscent prayer sneaked into her heart before she had the chance to push it back. She could hardly pray to a God she didn't believe in, could she?

  Pray, no. But she could think. What had she done? She’d sold her kisses for cash, that's what. What would Nicolai think of that? Well, he wasn't here now, was he? And the Tanya Egerov who grew up on Tverskya Street and went to mass every Sunday with her beloved husband wasn't either. That Tanya Egerov had stayed in her tiny apartment in Moscow next to her dead husband and her dreams.

  The new Tanya was a bit more streetwise—enough to realize that if she didn't figure out a way to make money, she would die on the cold Leningrad streets—and her baby would die with her.

  Was last night really that bad? Feodora's question came to her as if spoken by a tiny voice in the wind.

  "No. It wasn't that bad," Tanya whispered back.

  Swallowing the tinge of guilt that crept into her throat, Tanya patted her belly. She would do anything for this baby, even if it meant spending another evening with good old officer so-and-so. And if she was being entirely honest, waking up with a full belly and a pocket full of rubles hadn't exactly felt bad. Why should she suffer and starve for an archaic set of morals because she had once believed in a God whom she was no longer sure existed?

  Regardless, she would have to stifle all of her emotions and do something to earn money if she wanted this baby to survive.

  A plan formulated in her mind as she trudged up the stairs. If she could attend a few more officers’ balls in the weeks to come, maybe she would have enough to ride out the remainder of her pregnancy in the Azoz Sanatoria. With bread to eat and a place to sleep, the baby at least had a chance at survival.

  Tanya plopped down on Feodora's cot and forced a trembling smile. "So, Feodora, know of any other officer's balls coming up?"

  Feodora studied her with probing eyes and pulled a flask out from under her pillow. Taking a big swig, she offered it to Tanya.

  "Why not?" Tanya grabbed it and choked down a swig, wincing at the slow burn as it trickled down her throat.

  "Are you sure, Tawnie?" Feodora clearly understood that a line had been crossed.

  "I need the money. And if that means spending a few evenings pretending with an officer or two, I'm willing."

  Feodora's eyes narrowed to tiny slits. Her mouth opened and shut several times before she finally whispered. "There's no going back. Ever."

  Tanya's gaze shot up, widening as she realized what Feodora was thinking. "I don't want to…" She couldn't say the word.

  Feodora shook her head. "And I hope you never have to. But sometimes it comes with the territory. Not all men are as understanding as Lieutenant Pudovkin."

  "What if I just say I'm an escort, nothing more? They will respect my boundaries, won't they?"

  "Sometimes, yes." Feodora looked as though she was about to cry.

  Was Feodora talking about rape? These were officers in the Red Army. They weren't raping the women whom they were inviting out on social occasions, were they?

  Tanya looked up at Feodora with glistening eyes. "Fe, no…"

  "Sometimes these things don't turn out like you would hope. I once thought I would earn enough money to survive by going out to nice dinners and sharing an occasional kiss. It didn't turn out as I had hoped."

  Tanya clutched one hand into the other. Was it worth the risk? Maybe Feodora's experience wasn't typical. She would be extra careful.

  "I'm not telling you not to do it, but I'm just telling you to think hard before you make any decisions."

  "I don't have time to think hard, Fe. I'll start showing in a few months, so if I want to earn enough money to survive this pregnancy, I have to do it now."

  Feodora's eyes flickered with an odd mixture of regret and hope. Clearly, she was trying to help Tanya. Who wanted to watch her friend starve to death? But Fe also seemed to feel guilty for leading her down this path.

  Tanya was done with guilt. And hunger. "Come on, Feodora. Give me one more chance to show you that I can do this. You won't regret it. You are saving my life. No, you're saving my baby's life."

  "OK." The word came out slowly, as if Feodora wanted with all of her being to say no. "Yes, I'll do it. Let me send a message to Lieutenant Dubrovskiy down at the base and let him know that I have a friend. He'll get the word out. I bet I can get you a date for tonight if you want one."

  "Yes. I do." The words stuck in Tanya's mouth, filling her throat with acid. Feodora was right, there was no going back. Of course, if going back meant going back to the way she had lived the last few weeks, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

  It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

  20

  Leningrad, Russia

  "Message for Tanya Egerov!" A gruff voice yelled up the stairs, causing a chorus of groans to ris
e from various sleeping people on cots around the room.

  "Don't you people have anything better to do than wallow on your cots all day?" Feodora was already on her second flask of vodka and more than willing to speak her mind.

  "Such as go on so-called dates with soldiers like you and your little whore friend?" A condescending voice rose from the corner.

  Tanya froze. Did her roommates think she was a prostitute like Feodora?

  "I don't…" It was all Tanya could get to come out around the giant lump that formed in her throat.

  "Sure you don't, honey." The woman who’d spoken looked at her with mocking eyes. "I'm sure that message waiting for you downstairs is just a note from the mayor asking you to tea."

  Tanya stormed out the room, refusing to let them see her shame. Grabbing the folded message from the table by the door, she stepped outside into the cool afternoon air to read it.

  Lieutenant Petrov Ivanov requests your presence at the Rossiya Hotel for dinner and drinks. Please come dressed for dancing. Two hundred fifty rubles.

  She let out an audible groan. Wasn't this exactly what she had asked for? An opportunity to earn more money so that she could save up for this baby?

  The door slammed behind her. Fedora.

  "Don't mind them, Tawnie."

  "A Lieutenant Ivanov wants me to meet him at the Rossiva tonight for dinner and drinks."

  "Lieutentant Ivanov. I know of him. A nice man."

  "And?"

  "And I don't know anything else, Tawn. I've never gone out with him."

  "Will I be all right, Fe?"

  "I hope so."

  "What do I do now?"

  "You can't tell him no, or you'll never get another date again." Feodora glanced at her watch. "Come upstairs. We'll find you something to wear."

  "But, what about them?" Tanya's gaze veered to the door.

  "What about them? If you do this, you'll have to get used to the mean comments and the pitying stares. Comes with the territory. Some people don't understand what it's like."

  Tanya shook her head, wishing that Nicolai was there to take her into his arms and tell her it would all be all right. A tear trickled down her cheek.