“It’s,” I heard him whisper—“embarrassing to be this way.”
“No,” she said. “It’s just life.”
I saw him wince as Scarlet blotted a spot on his pant leg. “Are you in much pain?” Scarlet asked.
“Some,” he said. “But it’s manageable.”
“All done,” she said brightly.
Gable took Scarlet’s hand, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Thank you,” he said. “Really.”
Scarlet pulled her hand away. “You’re welcome.”
“Hey, Arsley,” I said. “You know I’d never let Scarlet date you, right?”
“You aren’t her mother,” Gable said. “And I wasn’t that bad to you.”
“Um, you were the worst boyfriend in the world, but let’s not go into that.” I tried to say this lightly. “We’re only letting you sit here because you’re gimpy and we feel bad for you. But if you sitting here’s gonna lead to you wooing Scarlet, you can go wheel yourself back to the middle of the cafeteria right now.”
“You’re an ass, Anya,” Gable said.
“And you’re a sociopath, Gable,” I replied.
“Takes one to know one,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
“Honestly, Anya, I was only thanking her,” Gable said.
“Well,” Win said, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s agree to make this the sort of lunch table where we keep our hands to ourselves.”
I didn’t see Scarlet again until the bus ride home, though I’d been worrying about her all afternoon. The problem was that Scarlet loved hard-luck cases and wounded things. (Probably one of the reasons why she’d been such a good friend to me and mine.) People like Scarlet tend to get taken advantage of, especially by people like Gable Arsley.
“You know, you can’t go out with Gable Arsley,” I said as we rode through the park to the east side.
Natty was with us, and she wrinkled her nose and asked, “Why would Scarlet ever go out with him?” Gable had never enjoyed much popularity in my family.
“I wouldn’t,” Scarlet said. “I just felt bad for him today.” Scarlet described to Natty what had happened at lunch.
“Oh,” Natty said, “I would have felt awful for him, too.”
“That’s because you and Scarlet are a couple of softies. Just because he’s hurt doesn’t mean he’s not the same old horrible person inside.”
“You either have no faith in me or you think I’m dumb,” Scarlet said. “I remember what he did to you. And I’m not so desperate that I’d drop all my principles for your one-handed, one-legged, badly disfigured ex-boyfriend!” Scarlet giggled. “Oh, that’s awful! I shouldn’t be laughing.” She covered her mouth.
Natty and I laughed, too.
“You have to admit. It is sort of ridiculous what happened to Gable,” Scarlet added.
“It is ridiculous,” I replied. My whole life was ridiculous.
“But, for argument’s sake,” Scarlet said, as the bus reached her stop, “don’t you think having such a medical trauma would change a person?”
“No!” Natty and I yelled.
“I’m kidding, darlings.” Scarlet shook her head. “How can you be so gullible, Annie?” She kissed me on the cheek. “See you tomorrow,” she called as she got off the bus.
Once Natty and I were home, Imogen told me that Nana needed me, so I went into her room.
Nana had actually seemed somewhat better in the last couple of weeks. At least, she hadn’t mistaken me for my mother.
I bent down to kiss Nana’s cheek. There were yellow roses in a turquoise vase on the windowsill. Someone had been by to see her.
“Pretty,” I commented.
“Yes, they’re not bad. My stepson brought them by today,” Nana said. “Take them to your room if you like, Annie. They’re wasted on me. They make me think of my funeral, which …”
I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Imogen said you wanted to see me,” I said finally.
“Yes,” Nana said. “You must do something for me. Yuri’s son Mickey is getting married next month. You, Leo, and Natty need to go to the wedding on my behalf.”
Family weddings were not my favorite. And Mickey was getting married? It might have been my imagination but I was reasonably certain he had been flirting with me the last time we’d met. “Where is this wedding?”
“At the Balanchine compound in Westchester.”
Even though it was just a bunch of houses and stables and a mostly dried-up lake, I hated that place. Natty and I had lived there in the weeks after my father had been killed and it only had bad associations for me.
“Do we have to go?” I whined.
“Is it such a hardship? I wish I could go, but I don’t have legs to take me there. Besides, you can bring your little boyfriend …” she said mischievously.
“How do you know about him?” I asked.
“I still have ears. Your sister told me. She thinks you’re going to marry him, but I said that my Anya is far too young and far too practical for marriage, no matter how head over heels she is.”
“Natty is absurd.”
“So you will go to the wedding?”
“If I must,” I said.
“Good. Bring your boyfriend to meet me someday, too. Maybe the day you go to the wedding? Yes, it’s settled.” Nana nodded, then reached for my hand. “I feel clearer lately,” she said.
“That’s good.”
“But I’m not sure how long it will last. And I want to set this house in order,” she continued. “You are sixteen years old now?”
I nodded.
“Which means if I died tomorrow, your brother would become your guardian.”
“But you won’t die,” I reminded her. “The machines will keep you alive until I’m old enough.”
“Machines fail, Anyaschka. And sometimes—”
I cut her off. “I don’t want to discuss this!”
“You must listen, Anya. You are the strongest one, and you need to hear. I need to know that we have discussed these matters. Though Leo will technically be the guardian, it has been arranged with Mr. Kipling and his new associate—I am forgetting his name—that you will be the only one with access to the money. This will make it so that Leo cannot make any decisions alone. Do you understand?”
I nodded impatiently. “Yes, of course.”
“Your brother may be angry when he finds out, and I am sorry for that. He is damaged, but he is not without pride. Still, it is the only thing to be done. The real estate will be placed in a trust that stipulates that it cannot be sold until you are eighteen, too. And when you turn eighteen, guardianship of Natty will transfer from Leo to you as well.”
“Fine, fine. But the doctors say the machines will keep you alive until I’m eighteen, if not longer. I don’t know why we have to discuss this now.”
“Because life can be unexpected, Anya. Because lately I have noticed increasingly long periods where I am not myself. You cannot say that you don’t notice these, too?”
I admitted that I had noticed.
“Well, I am sorry for anything I may have said to you during these times. I love you, Anya. I love each of my grandchildren, but you most of all. You remind me of your father. You remind me of me.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“The loss of one’s body is one thing. The loss of one’s mind is more than can be tolerated. Remember that, my dear one.” Then she told me to take a bar of chocolate, and as I always did, I went into her closet and pretended to take a bar, although there hadn’t been any chocolate in Nana’s closet for months. This time I was surprised to find a single bar in the safe. Uncle Yuri must have brought it.
“Share it with your new boyfriend!” she called as I closed the door.
In my bedroom, I found myself stroking the bar of chocolate. It was Balanchine Special Dark, my favorite. Daddy used to melt it down to make hot chocolate for Natty, Leo, and me. He would heat milk over the stove top, then he??
?d chop up the chocolate bar into small pieces so that it would melt into the milk. I considered going into the kitchen to make some myself, but decided against it. Even though I had heard that the supply was clean again, I had lost my taste for chocolate in the months since I’d been arrested.
The doorbell rang so I went to answer it. I looked through the peephole, and there was Win.
“Come in,” I told him. Out of habit, I looked around before I kissed him.
“What’s that?” he asked.
I was still holding the candy bar and I told him how Nana had given it to me and how she always told me to share it with someone I loved.
“So?” he said.
“Oh no. Definitely not gonna happen.” Had he already forgotten the tribulations of the last boyfriend I shared chocolate with?
“Fine,” he said. “Besides, I tried chocolate once and I didn’t really like it.”
I rolled my eyes. “What kind did you try?”
He named a brand which was pretty much the bottom of the barrel quality-wise. Daddy used to have a name for that stuff: rat turd. Daddy had been very particular about his chocolate. “That’s not even chocolate,” I told Win. “It barely has any cacao in it.”
“So, give me some of the real stuff then,” he said.
“I would but I promised your father I’d keep you out of the way of illegal activity.” I slipped the bar into the pocket of my cardigan and then I took his hand and led him into the living room. “So, I need to ask a favor of you.” I told him about the family wedding in Tarrytown.
“No,” he said. He smiled and crossed his hands over his knees.
“No?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Well, why not?”
“Because I still haven’t gotten over your rejection of my invitation to the Fall Formal and I’m a person who holds a grudge. Am I meant to do everything you say, Anya? If I did, wouldn’t you lose respect for me?”
He had a point, I suppose. “You seem to have made up your mind.”
“Yes, I have.” Then Win laughed. “I’m disappointed! Aren’t you even going to try to reason me into it? Aren’t you going to try to make me an offer I can’t refuse?”
“It’s not going to be very fun and I barely want to go myself,” I said.
“Is this your pitch?”
“My family is a bunch of hooligans,” I continued. “One of my cousins will probably get superdrunk and end the evening by trying to touch my boob. I’m just hoping no one tries to touch Natty’s or I’ll seriously have to deck someone.”
“I’ll go,” he said. “But I want to try your chocolate first.”
“Are those your terms?”
“It’s your family business, isn’t it? I can’t go to this wedding without being informed, can I?”
“Well played, Win.” I stood up. “Follow me.”
I set rice milk on the stove top to heat. I took the chocolate out of my pocket, then I checked the date just to make sure it wasn’t from last fall. I unwrapped the silver lining and smelled it to confirm. (Did Fretoxin even have a scent?) I lowered the heat once the milk began to boil, then added a little bit of vanilla and sugar, stirring the milk until the sugar dissolved. I chopped up the chocolate into fine pieces and whisked it through the hot milk until the chocolate was more or less melted. Finally, I ladled the mixture into two cups and sprinkled cinnamon over the top of each. Daddy had always made it look so easy.
I set one cup in front of Win. He moved to pick it up, but I pulled it back. “Last chance to change your mind.”
He shook his head.
“Aren’t you worried about ending up like Gable Arsley?”
“No.” He drank at an even pace until he finished. Then he set down the cup and didn’t say anything.
“Well?” I asked.
“You’re right. It’s definitely not what I had before.”
“But did you like it?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Let me have yours.”
I pushed my cup over to him. He drank more slowly this time, contemplatively, even. (Is it possible to drink contemplatively?) “It’s not what I expected it would be. It’s not sweet. It’s too substantial to be called sweet. It’s probably not to everyone’s taste, but the more I drink it, the more I like it, I think. I can see why they banned this. It’s very … intoxicating.”
I walked over to his side of the table and sat in his lap. And then I kissed him. I ran my tongue over his lips, and I could taste the cinnamon. “Do you ever wonder if the only reason you like me is because it irritates your father?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “No, you’re the only one who wonders that. I like you because you are brave and far too substantial to ever be called sweet.”
It was a ridiculous thing to say, but nonetheless, I felt my insides becoming warm and I knew I was probably flushed. I wanted to take off my sweater. I wanted to take off other things. I wanted to take things off him.
I wanted him.
I wanted him, but I couldn’t.
I got off of his lap. Though the kitchen was sweltering, I retied and tightened the belt of my boiled-wool cardigan. Then I pushed up my sleeves and went over to the sink. I began to wash out the pan I’d used to heat the milk. I must have used three times the amount of water that the job required, but I needed to steady myself.
He came up behind me and set his hand on my shoulder. I jumped, I was still so wound up. “Annie, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t want to go to Hell,” I said.
“Me neither,” he said. “And I don’t want you to go there either.”
“But lately, when I’m with you … I find myself rationalizing things. And we haven’t even known each other that long, Win.”
Win nodded. He took a dish towel that was hanging over the oven-door handle. “Here,” he said. “I’ll dry that for you.”
I handed him the pan. Pan-less, I felt more vulnerable. I missed having a weapon.
“Anya, I’m not going to lie. I’d really like to sleep with you. I think about it. The possibility of it, I mean. I think about the possibility of it fondly and often. But I’m not going to force you to do anything.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about, Win! It’s me!” It was embarrassing to talk about how much I feared losing control of myself when I was around him. I felt feral, savage, violent even, unlike myself. It disturbed me and shamed me. I hadn’t been to confession in months.
“I’m not a virgin, Annie. Do you think that means I’m going to Hell?” he asked.
“No, it’s more complicated than that.”
“Explain it, then.”
“You’ll think it’s stupid. You’ll think I’m provincial, superstitious.”
“No, I could never think that. I love you, Annie.”
I looked at him and though I wasn’t sure he really knew what love was—how could he? His life had been too easy—I decided that I trusted him. “When my father died, I made a deal with God that if He just kept all of us safe, I’d be good. I’d be better than good. I’d be pious. I’d honor Him. I’d be in control of myself and everything else.”
“You are good, Annie. No one can say you haven’t been good,” Win said. “You’re practically perfect.”
“No, I’m so not perfect. I lose my temper all the time. I think bad thoughts about almost everyone I know. But I try my best. And I couldn’t say that anymore, if …”
Win nodded. “I understand.” He was still holding the dried pan, so he handed it to me. His smile was a bit lopsided. “I won’t let you sleep with me, no matter how much you’re begging me to,” he joked.
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“No, I’d never,” Win said. “I take you and all things related to you very seriously.”
“You’re not being serious now.”
“I assure you, I’m being deathly serious. Go ahead and try to sleep with me right now. Do it. Even if you stripped down to nothing, I’d push y
ou away like you were on fire.” There was still mirth in his voice. “From now on, we’re in one of those old books. You can kiss me, but that’s it.”
“I don’t think I like you right now,” I said.
“Good. Then the plan’s working.”
Win had to get home, so I walked him to the door.
I leaned over to kiss him, and he pulled back and offered me his hand. “Only on the hand from now on,” he said.
“You’re being extremely annoying.”
I kissed his hand and then he kissed mine. He pulled me close so that his lips were near my right ear. “You know how we could solve all this?” he whispered. “We really could get married.”
“Stop saying that! You sound absurd, and I don’t even think you mean it. Besides, I’d never marry you,” I told him. “I’m sixteen, and you’re a slut, and you can’t stop saying preposterous things!”
“True,” he admitted. He kissed me on the lips and then I closed the door.
I arranged for Imogen to stay with Nana while the rest of us went to the wedding.
Win came to the house so we could all take the train together. Before we left, I asked him if he wouldn’t mind meeting my grandmother. Even though I was fairly over-the-moon about Win at that point in time, I was still self-conscious introducing people to Nana. Her behavior was erratic to say the least and though my family was used to her appearance, she was more than a bit ghoulish (bedridden, mostly bald, bloodshot eyes, yellowish-green skin, rotten-smelling) to those who didn’t know her. I wasn’t embarrassed by her, but I felt protective of her. I didn’t want strange eyes on her. I warned Win what to expect before we went in.
I knocked on the door. “Come in, Anya,” Imogen whispered. “She told me to wake her before you left. Wake up, Galina. It’s Annie.”
My grandmother woke. She coughed for a while and then Imogen slipped a straw into her mouth. I looked over at Win to see if he was repulsed by poor Nana, but his eyes betrayed nothing. They looked, if anything, as kind as usual, and slightly concerned.
“Hi, Nana,” I said. “We’re about to leave for the wedding.”
Nana nodded.
“This is my boyfriend, Win,” I said. “You said you wanted to meet him.”