Naira said, “Our Tania is better now, but she has to watch herself. She still goes to Molotov every month to get checked out. TB can come back at any time. That’s why we all smoke outside—”

“Gladly,” piped up Vova, putting his arm on Tatiana’s shoulder.

Alexander was going to have to talk to Tatiana about Vova, and soon.

Axinya said, “Alexander, you have no idea how thin she was when she came to us…”

“I have some idea,” said Alexander. “Don’t I, Tania?”

She whispered, “Some idea, Shura.”

“She was skin and bones,” said Dusia. “Christ Himself almost could not save her.”

“It’s good that we don’t live in a collective farming village like our cousin Yulia, right, Naira?” said Axinya. “Yulia lives in Kulay near Archangelsk, and though she is fifty-seven, she works in the field all day, and then the Kolkhoz takes her food away. Here they just take our fish, but we can barter our eggs and goat milk for some butter or cheese or even some white flour.”

“Poor Yulia,” sniffed Naira. “But look at our Tanechka.”

Axinya smiled and looked affectionately at Tatiana. “We’ve fattened you up, haven’t we, honey? Eggs every day. Milk. Butter. We’ve fattened her up good, don’t you think, Alexander?”

“Hmm,” said Alexander, reaching underneath the table and lightly squeezing Tatiana’s thigh.

“She’s like a warm bun,” added Axinya.

“A warm bun?” Alexander repeated, his grinning face turning to Tatiana, who was a deep red. Her short dress wasn’t long enough to cover her thighs. His bare hand caressed her bare leg, under the table, during dinner, in front of six strangers. Alexander had to take his hand away. Had to. He lost his breath, along with his reserve, and his self-control.

“Alexander, want more?” Tatiana said, standing and picking up the frying pan. Her hands were unsteady. “There is plenty.” She smiled at him, breathing through her parted mouth. “Plenty.” Her face was flushed.

“I think I’ll have a drink instead,” Alexander said, unable to look up at her for a change.

Axinya said, “Alexander, we want you to know that we weren’t happy with Tanechka. We want you to know we were on your side.”

“Tania, what did you do to upset these nice women?” said Alexander lightly.

Why did Tania stop smiling and glare at Axinya?

Naira, mouth full of fried potatoes, said, “We told her to write to you and tell you what happened to Dasha so you wouldn’t come all this way expecting to marry your longtime love and be devastated. We told her. Spare him a trip to the middle of the country. Write to him and tell him the truth.”

“And she refused!” Axinya exclaimed.

Alexander, the fire in his heart unsubsided, but the temper in his heart also unsubsided, stared at Tatiana. “Why did she refuse, Axinya?”

“She wouldn’t say. But let me tell you, the thought of you coming here for your Dasha was killing us. We could talk about nothing else.”

“Nothing else, Alexander,” Tatiana said. “More drink?”

“Maybe if you had written to me, they would have stopped talking,” he said, less friendly. “And yes, more drink.”

She poured it for him so fast she nearly spilled it.

Alexander’s head was swimming.

“We read all of Dasha’s letters to Anna,” said Naira. “The way that girl raved about you.” She shook her head. “You were her shining knight, you know.”

He finished his glass of vodka in two swallows.

“Tania, we told you to write to him!” Dusia exclaimed. “But our Tania can be very stubborn sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Alexander took the glass from Tatiana and finished her vodka, too.

Dusia crossed herself. “I said, you can do it, you can write that letter. But she said no. Not even with God’s help she couldn’t.” She looked at Tatiana with disapproving eyes. “Alexander, we were hoping maybe God would spare you pain and let you die at the front.”

Alexander raised his eyebrows. “You were hoping I would die at the front?”

“Tania and I prayed for your soul every day,” said Dusia. “We didn’t want you to suffer.”

“Thank you, I think,” Alexander said. “Tania, were you praying for my death every day?”

“Of course not, Alexander,” she replied quietly, unable to be cold, unable to be insincere, unable to lie, or to look at him, or to touch him. Unable. Whatever sat inside her rendered her unable to deal with him. He looked around the crowded table.

“Oh, Alexander!” exclaimed Axinya. “That was some letter you wrote to Dasha. You’re a poet. It was so full of love! When we read that nothing was going to stop you from coming and marrying her this summer, you just about broke our hearts.”

“Yes, Alexander,” said Tatiana. “Remember that poetic letter?”

Suddenly when he looked into her face—

He studied her. He was starting to lose focus in his brain. “Yes,” he said. He had written that letter wanting to reassure Dasha. He didn’t want Tatiana to face her sister by herself. “Should’ve written back, Tania,” he said with reproach. “And told me about Dasha.”

Bolting up, Tatiana started clearing the table.

“Never mind,” Alexander said with a shrug. “Perhaps Tania was too busy? Who’s got time to write nowadays? Especially during village life. There are sewing circles, there is cooking—”

She grabbed his plate. “How was your dinner, Alexander?” she asked. “Did you enjoy it?”

Too many things to say.

Nowhere to say them.

Just like before.

“Yes, thank you. More drink?”

“No,” she snapped. “No, thank you.”

Vova asked, “Alexander, so now what are you going to do? Are you going back?”

Another sharp intake of breath from Tatiana. Alexander held his own breath for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“You stay as long as you like,” declared Naira. “We love you like family. You might as well already be Dasha’s husband, that’s how we feel about you.”

“But he is not,” said Zoe adamantly and flirtatiously, placing her hand on Alexander’s arm and smiling. “Don’t worry, Alexander. We’ll cheer you up around here. How long is your furlough?”

“A month.”

“Zoe,” said Tatiana, “how is your good friend Stepan? Are you seeing him later tonight?”

Zoe took her arm away from Alexander, who, smiling and amused, glanced at Tatiana. So she is not entirely oblivious to Zoe, he thought.

She was clearing the table. Alexander looked around. No one else moved. Not even Zoe or Vova. As he started to stand up, Tatiana asked, “Where are you going? Smoke at the table.”

“To help you clear up.”

“No, no, no!” cried a chorus of voices. “What are you thinking? No. Tatiana does it.”

“I know she does,” said Alexander. “But I don’t want her to do it by herself.”

“Why?” asked Naira with genuine surprise.

“Honestly, Alexander,” Tatiana said. “You didn’t travel all this way to clear the table.”

Alexander sat back down, turned to Zoe, and said, “I admit I’m a little tired. Could you help her?” He didn’t smile at her. Zoe seemed to like that even better, giving him a large smile, as big as her breasts, and reluctantly going to help.

Tatiana made tea and poured a cup for Alexander first, and then for the four ladies and then for Vova and then for Zoe, and then for herself. She brought out the blueberry jam and was just climbing in to sit next to Alexander when Vova said, “Tanechka, before you sit, pour me another cup of tea, will you?”

Tatiana, legs straddling the bench, took Vova’s cup when Alexander grabbed her wrist. The cup rattled on the saucer. “You know what, Vova?” Alexander said, lowering Tatiana’s hand to the table. “The kettle of water is on the hearth, the teapot is right in front of you. Sit down, Tania. You’ve done plenty. Vova can pour his own tea.”

Tatiana sat down.

Everybody at the table stared at Alexander.

Vova went and poured his own tea.