Painting Home

by Jolma, Erika;

  "Pla…placenta?" Feodora looked queasy.

  "You just stay up there with Tanya and the baby and I'll handle that." Vera sank into her chair. "Back in '98, I helped my sweet sister deliver her baby boy, God rest her soul. Back in the day, we didn't have fancy hospitals or medical doctors. Women gave birth to babies at home." Vera's words came at a cadence that soothed Tanya's weary soul.

  She shifted her attention to her sweet daughter, comfortably nuzzled next to her breast. Things had actually turned out all right. A wave of bittersweet nostalgia swept through her soul. If only Nicolai were here to see this. Oh, he would have fallen in love with this sweet baby girl! He would've made such a wonderful father.

  Pain gripped her pelvis and she moaned softly, allowing the marvel of her baby daughter to carry her through the pain as she delivered the afterbirth. She stroked her daughter's downy soft curls and closed her eyes, wishing she could pray for this precious life. Ironic that the one thing her heart yearned to do was the one thing she wouldn't allow it.

  No, she wouldn't pray for this baby, but she would love her. Tanya wiped away a tear and stared at her daughter, so infinitely beautiful, and let out a deep sigh. No, this baby girl would never know her father or his God, but she would know love. She would know how it felt to be cherished.

  She would live her life never doubting that her mama would do anything for her.

  31

  Leningrad, Russia

  Feodora stepped quietly toward the door. She was still wearing the red satin dress with a thigh-high slit she’d worn last night. "I'll go change," she said.

  Tanya lifted her head from her pillow and frowned at her friend. What would Vera think of them now?

  "All right, dear." Vera was always so kind, so sweet. Of course, if she had noticed Feodora's dress, that would all change.

  The door slammed and Tanya could hear her footsteps as her friend raced up the stairs. She sank back onto the pillow, silently arguing with herself about whether Vera knew where Feodora had been. The old lady wasn't naïve enough to believe that she had been out visiting friends, was she?

  She silently fumed at Feodora's brazenness. What could they do now? Leave it to Feodora to ruin the one good thing that had happened to her in a long time. Tanya chided herself for thinking like that. Without Feodora, she'd still be living at the sanatoria. Or worse.

  Feodora reentered the room, wearing a more appropriate, cotton calico dress Her face was wet, clearly freshly washed, ruddy cheeks, and pale skin had replaced the thick gray eye shadow and bright red lipstick from the night before.

  Vera left the room.

  "Feodora! She must know!" Tanya whispered.

  "I'm sorry, Tawnie. I was just so worried about you, and I didn't think to change."

  "What will I do now? She'll kick us out for sure." Tanya let her gaze drift to the precious baby nestled close to her breast and her stomach contracted. She couldn't let anything happen to her. Ever.

  Feodora stared at her wide-eyed.

  Vera swung open the door, breaking the awkward silence. She carried a tray of tea—complete with blue flowered china. She set it onto the side table in the living room. The old woman turned to her with a smile. "Cream?"

  "Yes, please." Feodora turned to Tanya, the corners of her mouth raised. Maybe Vera hadn't noticed her dress in the chaos of the birth?

  "Here you go, my dear. You must be exhausted." Vera handed Tanya a delicate cup and signaled towards the sofa.

  "Thank you."

  Feodora took her cup from Vera. Her hands shook so violently that the cup and saucer clanked together. She sat down in a wooden chair next to the bed and looked from Vera to Tanya and back again to Vera. "Thank you for helping Tanya. Had I known, I never would have left last night."

  "I was glad to do it." Vera reached out and took Tanya's hand. "She's become like a daughter to me in the last few weeks."

  Tanya fidgeted with the handle of her cup, staring at the floor, the conversation gnawing at her nerves. What could they do? Say?

  Vera broke the silence. "Feodora, Tanya, I know."

  Tanya's gaze shot up.

  "You know?" Feodora whispered.

  "Yes, I know what you do—what you both do—for a living. I've known for weeks."

  "Did Tanya tell you?" Feodora's gaze darted to Tanya.

  "No, of course not! I didn't say a thing." Tanya pressed herself up onto her elbows, wincing at the pain that shot through her insides. "So why did you let us move in?" Shame spread over Tanya's cheeks.

  "Because I believe that everyone deserves a chance at redemption," Vera said. "And while I wish you would leave that life, I also understand you feel trapped. I only pray that one day you will find a way to walk away and lead the life God has intended for you."

  "God. If God were real, He would've never let this happen at all," Tanya whispered.

  "I didn't have a choice, Vera. I couldn't pay for food." Feodora forced out the words, as if she struggled to believe them.

  Vera gave Feodora a knowing look. "God provides."

  "Well, it's been a long time since He's provided for me."

  "He's never let me down," Vera responded, the softness in her voice contrasting with the steely determination of her words.

  "I'm not sure I can believe that. I know what happened to your daughter. To your husband. How can you believe in a God that lets these things happen?" There. She had said it. At least everything was out in the open.

  Vera continued to stare at her with kind eyes. "I still trust Him, Feodora. And I pray you will learn to as well."

  "Will you kick us out?" Tanya interrupted the conversation, desperate to know her fate.

  "Heavens, no!" Vera's gaze shot up and she shook her head firmly. "As long as I have a house to call my own, you two have a bed and a home."

  Relief swept through Tanya, warming her. She wished she could give the old woman what she wanted. If only things were different. "Thank you, Vera. I'm so grateful. And I wish there was another way for me to pay my way."

  "I will pray that God will reveal a way. Until then, know that if you should decide to leave the life you lead, I will support you in any way I can. I haven't a penny to my name, but I trust God to provide a way for those who seek Him. I know He would do that for you. For us."

  How could this woman be so kind and so forgiving? Tanya was certain she could never be like that. Sighing, she let the conversation drift off, sipping her tea slowly as she stared out of the dingy window onto the snow-clad street. If only she could find a real job with a real paycheck. She had tried that. And it hadn't worked even before she’d sullied her reputation. But now?

  No one would hire her.

  She let the truth seep into her soul like tea swirling into hot water. She had no choice but to keep serving the men in the officer's brigade. Her daughter's very existence depended on it.

  32

  Helsinki, Finland

  The bright blue sky stood in stark contrast to the darkness that descended on Finland. The sun never really set these days in the land of the midnight sun, but even in the bright light, Matti still felt as though they hadn't emerged from one of darkest winters ever. The sunlight was simply a façade. If rumors were true, summer would be even colder and darker than winter had been.

  A few weeks ago, Germany had marched into Denmark and Norway, destroying any hope Finland had of partnering with their Scandinavian allies. Now, the buzz around the base was Russia would march into the Baltics any day now. If they took control of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, there would be nothing left standing between Russia and Germany. Except Finland.

  The next few months would seal Finland's fate.

  He pulled his latest letter from Anna out of his pocket and unfolded it, thanking God that at least his parents, brothers, and Anna were safe in Kalajoki—about as far as they could get from harm's way.

  Matti,

  The newspapers up here don't paint a very pretty picture of what is happening in Helsinki. Is it really
true that several of our Finnish officers have been traveling to Germany to meet with the Nazis? How can we possibly align ourselves with them when they've caused so much terror?

  I'm so scared! For you, for Finland, for everyone! Every day now I brace myself for the news that we're moving off into another war—and I’m not sure whether I should pray for it or against it.

  Matti agreed with Anna about the war. He’d always felt that fighting for Karelia was worth every effort, but now that it looked almost certain the Nazis would be involved, he wasn't so sure. Could he go off and fight—possibly die—to facilitate the evil schemes of an evil regime? He wasn't so sure.

  Regardless, I’m praying. I pray every day that God will fill you with peace and hope that defies all odds. I pray that you'll find the strength to do what is right even when the world seems wrong.

  Anna

  He gritted his teeth as he contemplated Anna's words. Did he really have the courage to do what was right even when everything seemed wrong?

  The heat of the sun, now shining bright in the middle of the sky, broke Matti's reverie. He had to get over to check-in fast, or he would get kitchen duty again. He’d day dreamed his way through breakfast. He would grab a cup of coffee and call it good.

  Matti strode into the mess hall. He grabbed a slice of hardtack and a cup of coffee before trying find a place to sit. Even if he didn't have time for a full breakfast, he needed a few minutes to unwind. The last few days had been…strange. The air seemed ripe with news, as if any minute, the dam would burst and they would hear that war had begun.

  He scanned the room. Markos sat alone at a corner table. Matti caught his friend’s eye and hurried to sit down, stopping short when he noticed the terror etched on Markos’s face. "What's going on, Markos?" He glanced around the room and realized the same expression on Markos's face was mirrored on most of the men in the room.

  "Haven't you heard?"

  "Heard what?"

  "It seems as if we'll be marching into Karelia."

  "When?"

  "This week, most likely."

  Matti's pulse sped up. He was shocked to hear the news he’d waited on for so long. This was a good thing, right?

  "Why are you smiling, Matti?"

  "We've been waiting for this, Markos. We have to fight for Karelia."

  Markos frowned. "There's more, Matti."

  "More?"

  "The Germans are marching in from the East as we speak. It sounds as if we're to assault Russia on all sides. I don't know for sure, but it seems the plan is for us to march straight through Karelia and into Leningrad."

  Matti's mouth dropped open. "Leningrad? Why would Finland march into Leningrad?"

  Markos shrugged, looked around as if there were German spies hiding under the tables.

  Matti blew out a deep breath. "This is all speculation, right? We don't know this for sure?"

  "No, nothing is for sure. But that's the rumor I'm hearing."

  Matti bit his tongue. This was what he had wanted, right? To take back Karelia?To push the Russians out of his homeland? Matti took a swig of coffee, grimaced at the bitter taste in his mouth, and wished for the hundredth time they still had sugar and milk. They were lucky to even have coffee, so he should be grateful. He stood and hurried outside to join the crowds at roll call, praying that instead of hearing another assignment at the fish packing plant, he would hear an assignment to pack up and head out.

  Lord, give me another day here. I have to write Anna before we leave. After all, his line of communication with Anna may soon be cut off. He'd have to warn her.

  Once they marched into Karelia, there was no saying how long they’d fight before he had the chance to write her again.

  33

  Leningrad, Russia

  June, 1941

  "Yes, ma'am, we're organizing citizen response teams to help fortify the city in hopes of protecting the citizen populations."

  Tanya tried to focus on what was being said.

  "This is just precautionary, is that correct?" Vera's voice was tense.

  "No, ma'am, as we heard when Molotov spoke on the radio yesterday, German forces bombed our bases in the Baltics early yesterday morning. They’re marching into Russia as we speak. The 4th Panzer German tank division is headed straight toward Leningrad. Up to the north, the Finns have congregated on our border and we think they will also attack soon."

  Tanya kissed Verushka's downy head and pulled her closer. How could she keep this precious little one safe in the midst of a crazy war that seemed intent on sweeping them all into the bloody fray?

  "But just last week the papers said the war was simply a provocation. That nothing would actually happen." Feodora chimed in, terror shining in her eyes.

  "I know. They took us by surprise, but we do know they are headed this way. We have troops surrounding the city, reinforcing defense lines and getting ready to protect us. But, as a precautionary measure, we're putting together a citizen coalition to help with fortifications."

  "What about the Nazi-Soviet pact?" Tanya remembered an article she read about the pact that claimed to be the peaceful resolution to the whole situation.

  "It doesn't look as if they're honoring it, does it now?" The man turned and looked down the street, obviously agitated and unsure how to answer their probing questions.

  "What can we do?" Vera pushed aside their questions, her voice steely. She put her hands on her hips and looked at the man.

  "Thank you, ma'am. We're mobilizing the entire civilian community to help build fortifications." He pulled a folded map from his pocket and pointed to clusters of red lines drawn in at various points on the outskirts of the city. "Meet at one of these locations and a civilian task force will tell you what to do."

  "We're women. We can hardly help." Tanya pointed at the baby and then looked at Vera, who suddenly looked very old and frail.

  "This seems to be our only shot, ma'am. If every citizen comes—young, old, weak and strong—then maybe we'll be able to get our defenses built before the Germans and the Finns arrive."

  All three women promised the soldier they would do whatever they could to help. He saluted them and turned toward the next house to start his spiel over again.

  Tanya’s mind raced. The Nazis were coming to Leningrad.

  News that they had been anticipating for months now, yet when it finally came, it seemed surreal.Impossible, even.

  Tanya sank down into the sofa cushions, positioning little Verushka onto her breast so she could eat.

  Feodora sat next to her tickling the baby's tiny toes and kissing the balls of her feet.

  "Shall I make tea?" Vera asked, already heading toward the kitchen.

  "What will we do, Fe?" Tanya broke the silence.

  Feodora looked out the window as more soldiers marched by, clearly on their way to mobilize more of the population. "All we can do. Wait. Hope. And help where we can."

  "But I'm so scared. What will happen to Verushka? To us?" Tanya brought the baby's tiny hand up to her lips and kissed it.

  Feodora's eyes grew wide. She reached out and stroked the baby's face, a look of weary terror on her face. Then she glanced at the kitchen, leaned closer to Tanya, and whispered, "What about money?"

  "What do you mean?" Tanya looked at her, confused, before realization dawned. Their source of income was drying up.

  After she’d recovered from childbirth, Tanya knew that as soon as she recovered, she wouldn’t have a choice but to return to the work she had been doing. Verushka had to eat, and Tanya had to pay rent. She swallowed hard as she thought about evenings in shady hotel rooms doing…

  Well, she had no choice.

  ~*~

  On the first night, Vera hadn't seemed to notice when Tanya left a sleeping Verushka upstairs in her crib while she went out.

  But after a few nights, Vera met her at the door with a teary sob. "You don't have to do this, Tanya!" she had nearly shouted at her.

  "But I do. How would we eat otherwise?" T
anya set her jaw and kept her words calm.

  "God will provide a way."

  "I don't believe in God." Tanya let the words slip out before she truly contemplated what they would do to Vera, the woman who had given her everything.

  Vera stood for several moments, just staring at her before she turned away. As she had walked down the hallway, Tanya heard her praying out loud. “Lord, please help this stubborn girl to turn from her sinful ways and back to You.”

  Now it seemed that Vera's prayers had been answered. Not about turning back to God, but about her sinful ways. They wouldn't make money with the soldiers if the soldiers were all off fighting.

  A tight ball rose in her chest. She stared at her friend. How would they survive the month, much less the war?

  Vera had no income.

  And now, neither did they.

  Feodora turned her head toward the kitchen door before sneaking her ever-present flask out of the pocket of her housecoat. She took a swig and tucked the flask back into her dress pocket.

  Tanya leaned forward and shaded Verushka's eyes, as if covering her eyes would shield her from the pain.

  Vera plodded into the living room, a teapot steaming on a tray in her hands.

  Feodora popped up to help her pour.

  Tanya switched Verushka to the other breast.

  "Vera, we…we’re scared." Feodora said.

  This would most definitely be a difficult conversation.

  Vera straightened her spine and squared her shoulders before turning to Tanya. She clasped her hands in front of her chest. "You two look at me right now."

  Tanya looked up guiltily, like a child who’d just been caught stealing penny candy.

  "This is a hard time for Leningrad, for us, but we will not start wallowing." She wagged her fingers at the two of them, her face resolute. "The four of us, we will stick together. We’ll do whatever we can to keep this little girl safe."

  "But we hardly have any money." Tanya couldn't help but whine a little.

  "I will trust God to provide. And I pray that one day you two will learn to do the same."

  "So, what now?" Tanya choked out.