* * * * *
Hours and hours later, Tsura woke to a soft touch on her shoulder. She jolted before remembering the little girl still tucked into her chest. Tsura’d only meant to let little Brigitte fall asleep and then put her in her own bed in the children’s room, but Tsura must have fallen asleep herself. A quick blink showed that it was morning, barely, according to the dim light coming through the curtains. Cristina stood over her and held out a hand. Tsura took it and rose to her feet quietly, managing not to wake the toddler. They left and Cristina closed the door behind them soundlessly. Tsura rubbed her eyes, the evening before coming back to her. She’d gotten the children to bed. Klaus had come home just after and been frantic when she told him about his baby son. He’d left right after and that was when Brigitte had come out crying since she hadn’t found her parents in their beds. Apparently she snuck in their bedroom most nights. That was when Tsura’d lay down with her.
“How’s Gheorghe?” Tsura asked in a whisper as she and Cristina made it to the kitchen. “Did they know what was causing the fever?”
Cristina sighed. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked exhausted. “He’s better. The fever wasn’t the problem, it’s just some virus, the kind that all kids get. I slept at my friend’s apartment yesterday between shifts. I didn’t know how bad Gheorghe’s diarrhea was getting…” She ran her hands through her hair before looking back at Tsura. “He was so severely dehydrated. If Elena and your husband hadn’t come to the hospital right when they did so the doctors could start getting fluids into the baby…” She shuddered and swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself.
Tsura put a hand on Cristina’s shoulder. “But they did get there. You must be exhausted. Why don’t you go rest?”
Cristina rubbed her face again. “God no, I don’t feel like sleeping. Besides, I work a day shift tomorrow. If I sleep now, I’ll be up all night and then tired all shift tomorrow. I want to be up with the kids anyway. They’ll be up any minute now. How about I make us some coffee?”
“You sit,” Tsura said, pointing toward a stool by the kitchen counter. “I’ll make the coffee.”
Cristina laughed tiredly and nodded. “I’ll agree to that.”
“So tell me more about Gheorghe. What are they doing for him?”
Cristina smiled. “Curious, are you? See, I know you have the makings of a good nurse.” She wagged a finger. “Well, the doctor started him on some medicine to help reduce the fever. But more important was getting him rehydrated.”
“How do you do that if the baby won’t feed? Elena said he wouldn’t take any milk.” Tsura undid the lid of the coffee can. Coffee was precious so she only poured a small spoonful into the pot to boil. These same grounds would be boiled several times before being disposed of.
“Intravenously.”
Tsura frowned. She’d never heard the word. Cristina obviously read her expression. “It’s a newer technique. Dr. Nicolescu only knew about it because he was studying in Paris while there were experiments using it. It’s like a blood transfusion, you’ve heard of those, right?”
Tsura nodded.
Cristina went on, “Instead of blood, though, Dr. Nicolescu transfused liquid.” She waved a weary hand. “It’s more complicated than that, with pressure gauges and things, but that’s the easiest way to explain. It’s harder to do with babies but not impossible.” Her voice grew quieter and she rubbed her eyes again. “I was so afraid. I didn’t know if it would work but I pretended to be confident for Elena’s sake. Because Gheorghe—” she swallowed. “God, he looked so frail. If it hadn’t worked…”
“But he’s going to be okay now?” Tsura asked it as much to reassure Cristina as herself. Tsura’s hands shook as she set the water with the coffee grounds on the stove. She couldn’t imagine putting a needle in a tiny baby. Cristina hadn’t said it out right but it sounded as if Gheorghe could have died if they haven’t gotten him to the hospital when they did. And she’d said the treatment the doctor had used to save him had been experimental. What if that particular doctor hadn’t been working last night? Or the treatment hadn’t worked? Tsura was no fool. Babies died all the time, war or not. Fevers took babies at whim when she was growing up. Even when they took them to gagii doctors.
“Yes, he’s looking much better already.” Cristina nodded, brightening. “Dr. Nicolescu thinks he should make a full recovery and hopefully will have the strength to start nursing again later today.
“Elena wouldn’t stop berating herself about not bringing him in sooner. But she’s had three babies before and all of them have had fevers at one time or another, so she didn’t think this was anything different. And then when Klaus showed up he was blaming himself because he hadn’t gotten Elena’s calls. It was a giant mess but then Gheorghe started crying loudly again so that made us all feel better.” She laughed. “He’ll be in the hospital until the doctor feels confident the diarrhea is under control and he’s fully hydrated and feeding again.”
Tsura closed her eyes for a moment in silent thanks to God. She released a deep breath and then moved to poor coffee into two mugs. She sat down heavily on the stool beside Cristina with the coffees, feeling as if she had aged five years in hearing about how close Gheorghe had come to not surviving.
“Your Mihai is a good man,” Cristina said, accepting the coffee. Tsura raised her eyebrows in surprise. Cristina continued, “He wouldn’t leave the hospital even after Klaus arrived, not until he knew Gheorghe was going to be all right, so he could come home and bring you good news. Actually, I was surprised he hadn’t talked to you already.”
“Really?” Tsura sat up straighter. “He didn’t come by.” She looked at the door. When she finished talking to Cristina, she should still be able to catch him before he left for work to thank him.
Cristina shrugged. “Maybe he did. It’s hard to hear anyone knock from the back room, and you were deep asleep when I tried to wake you.”
Tsura smiled. “I’ve always been a heavy sleeper. My grandfather used to call me little bear because I always slept so deep it was like I was hibernating through winter. Of course his other favorite name for me was little hedgehog because I was prickly and would spear anyone who tried to trouble me or my family.”
Cristina laughed at that. “I think I would have liked your grandfather. My grandfather called me princess.” She rolled her eyes. “I would’ve liked hedgehog better. It’s certainly a good fit for me now. Gheorghe would have loved it.”
“Your husband?” Tsura asked tentatively. “Elena’s brother?”
Cristina nodded.
“I take it she named the baby after him? I’m sorry,” Tsura swirled the liquid in her cup. “I don’t mean to pry.”
Cristina shook her head. “No, it’s all right. You don’t have to tip toe around talking about him.” She took a long sip of coffee and let out a low moan. “Lord, that’s good.” She looked out the window at the brightening morning, surprising Tsura when she continued. “I think it’s good to talk about the ones we’ve lost. I couldn’t, not at first. Elena still can’t. She and Gheorghe were so close. But I think that’s sad. I want to remember him. He deserves to be remembered, the way he lived, you know, not just the fact that he died.”
Tsura nodded solemnly, taking a sip of her own coffee. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to live that way if she lost the people she loved… even now, if Luca… she swallowed the thought along with the bitter coffee.
“Gheorghe was a good man, but we were so young when we got married, we were still almost children ourselves. It was before the war, you know.” Cristina smiled sadly.
“He was working at a factory and I’d just finished nursing school. We were only starting out when he got conscripted into the army. He sent everything he made back to me but I couldn’t afford the apartment after he died.” Cristina ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her coffee mug, still looking out the window. “Elena and Klaus had just moved back from Germany and offered to take me in. I love
Elena but we don’t see eye to eye on many things.” Her eyes flicked to the picture of Hitler on the wall, seemingly involuntarily before she averted her gaze and took another pull of coffee.
“Staying with them was only meant to be temporary. But then Elena got pregnant again and she has such awful pregnancies. She was on bed rest and needed my help.” Cristina drained the last of the coffee and then laughed. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you all of this. I suppose I ramble when I’m tired.”
“Don’t worry,” Tsura bumped Cristina’s shoulder with her own, “when I get tired, I sing bawdy songs my brother taught me when he was drunk.” She began to sing the song she’d quoted to Mihai last night.
This shocked a laugh out of Cristina. “Now I know I would love this colorful family of yours!”
Tsura grinned. “Want another cup of coffee?”
“Lord yes,” Cristina groaned, sinking her head into her forearm. Then she cracked a smile. “But now you’ve got to promise to teach me that song.”
Tsura laughed long and low and was still laughing when Dieter and Irmgard came out of the bedroom.
“Tanti, what are you making for breakfast?” Irmgard shouted, running straight into Cristina’s legs and wrapping herself around them. Apparently this was Irmgard’s regular greeting for her aunt. Dieter was more reserved when he entered the kitchen, holding his back straight, as if forcing himself to try to look older and more serious. “How is Gheorghe?” he asked.
Cristina’s face softened as she looked at him. “He is well. Your mama and tati are with him. He just needs to stay there a few days. Later this afternoon, we’ll all go visit.”
Dieter nodded seriously, then he ran around the table and chased his sister to fight for the last stool.
“I’d like to go with you when you visit,” Tsura said. “Knock on my door when you leave.”
“Really?” Cristina looked surprised.
Tsura shrugged. “My own family is far away. I care about this one.”
Cristina’s eyes went soft and her lip trembled. She was obviously exhausted and had an emotional night.
“None of that,” Tsura tutted. “I hear you’ve got some hungry trouble makers on your hands. I’d stay and help, but I want to see Mihai before he goes to work.”
“Yes, go, go,” Cristina shooed Tsura out.
“Make sure to get me when you go to the hospital. And I’m happy to watch the children if you need to nap or when you go to work tonight. I mean it. I just sit in my apartment all day since I haven’t found work of my own yet.”
Cristina nodded, looking grateful.
“And Cristina?”
Cristina looked up.
Tsura began to croon in Romanian, translating from Romani as she went, only loud enough for Cristina to hear. “O Lucinda, si cu limbuța ta...”
Cristina laughed and snapped the towel she’d picked up at Tsura’s retreating form.
Tsura was still smiling when she opened the door to her own apartment. Mihai stood beside the bed, straightening his tie. He looked tired but his head shot up when she entered and he rose to his feet. “Tsura, I was about to come and knock again. I tried earlier, but you must have been sleeping.”
Tsura nodded. “I fell asleep with one of the girls without meaning to. Cristina just came back from the hospital and told me about the baby.”
Mihai nodded. “Good. I knew you’d worry.”
Tsura tilted her head to the side. He looked tired. He’d been up half the night and had bruise-like shadows under his eyes. All because he had wanted to ease her worries. He’d shaved but missed a patch underneath his jaw on the right side. That was extremely unlike him. Usually he was meticulous to the point of ritualistic with his grooming. Tsura walked forward and readjusted his tie, even though it didn’t need it, and then with an impulsive wave of affection, she hugged him. He stiffened, arms by his sides. He was about as accommodating as a concrete pillar.
She pulled back and thwacked him on the arm. “It’s called a hug. To thank you for last night.” Then she put her arms back around him. “I know Luca hugged you because that boy would hug anything with a pulse and sometimes things without one. He hugged that fiddle of his more than he hugged you or me. This isn’t a foreign concept. Come on. Arms around me and squeeze.”
Mihai was still stiff for another moment but then finally lifted his arms, barely touching Tsura’s back. He applied the tiniest bit of pressure before dropping his arms again. Tsura tipped her head back and laughed, then squeezed him hard around the middle and let go. “All right, all right, Mihai Popescu. I’ll stop torturing you since it’s only seven o'clock in the morning. But thank you for helping with Elena and the baby and staying long enough to tell me how he is. Even though I was asleep when you tried to come tell me,” she smiled. “It still means a lot to me.”
When she looked back up at Mihai, she couldn’t read his expression. His usually steely eyes were softer somehow, almost startled and he was watching her so intently. Tsura looked quickly away. She brushed her hair back from her face. “Well, I think I’ll get a few more hours of sleep. I’m going with Cristina and the kids later to visit the baby at the hospital so I might not be here when you get back from work.”
Mihai nodded and sat on the chair in front of his desk to put on his shoes. He didn’t say another word once he was finished, not even goodbye as he picked up his briefcase and left for work.
Tsura slipped off her shoes and flopped backwards onto the bed, not bothering to change out of her dress. She curled up into the sheet and snuggled the pillow under her head. She wrinkled her nose. The pillow smelled like Mihai. It was a fresh, woodsy scent. From his shaving cream, he didn’t wear cologne—something she only knew because she lived with him and was acquainted with his bathroom products, which suddenly felt like intimate knowledge. He must have slept here instead of the couch last night. His body had lain where hers was now. She ran her hand across the pillowcase.
She shook her head at the odd thought and then reached around the side of the mattress and slid out the portfolio of pictures she’d drawn of Andrei. She flipped through them one at a time. Usually the pictures soothed her but right now they only made her feel frustrated. She wanted to talk to him about Elena and the children and Cristina. Then she bit her lip, remembering the prominent portrait of Hitler in their house. What would Andrei say to that?
Tsura closed her eyes and tried to recall a memory of her and Andrei, of him whispering to her in the dark. She’d only been gone two months, but she worried she was already losing parts of him. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and tried to focus her whole mind on what the timber of his speech sounded like when he told her he loved her. But while she could remember the tune of every song Luca had ever taught her, she couldn’t remember the sound of her beloved’s voice.
Chapter 12