The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (100)
As she lowered the journal, Kolya walked through the yard down below with Halya perched on his shoulders. Katya watched him move towards the house, long-limbed and lanky, with a rugged grace that made her heart ache. Her past clutched in her hands and her future laid out in front of her, painted against each other in stark relief, but how could she bridge this divide? Life had set her down a path she’d never imagined traveling, and now she was stuck with one foot in each world—the before and after.
She stared out across the land, the ground shimmering before her as the tears she’d held back finally spilled over. The forgotten patch of sunflowers, buried in the weeds of the overgrown yard, smiled up at her. The sunflower palace. Her and Alina’s secret place. Despite everything, they fought to grow, to live, to rise up amidst the ruin of their land, somehow still blooming right here, for her.
Like her.
Deep down, beneath the sharp edges of her guilt and memories, she wanted this marriage to work. Kolya might not love her now, but maybe someday, he would let her into his heart, just as she had found room for him in hers. Their union represented all they had lost, all they had struggled to live through. Why had she fought to survive if it wasn’t to live her life and find hope again?
Katya’s lips quivered as her sister’s name came out in a sigh. “Alina. Forgive me, sister, but I love him. I just don’t know if he’ll ever love me.”
“Katya.”
Katya spun around at the sound of Kolya’s voice. He stood at the far end of the hayloft, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Halya is in bed. She was asking for you.”
Katya wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and set the journal back in its hiding spot. “I’m sorry. I come up here to think sometimes. I’ll go sing to her now.”
Kolya walked towards her slowly, the look on his face indiscernible. “Who were you talking to?”
Katya stiffened as color flooded her face. “No one.”
He stopped inches from her. His hand moved up to cup her cheek, his words piercing. “Who do you love?”
Katya’s mouth wouldn’t move to answer the simple question he’d asked. She drew in a ragged breath and tried to tear her gaze away from his, but his other hand came up and cradled her face.
“Is it me?”
“Why?” She exhaled the question out into the space between them—one word encapsulating so many questions. It unlocked something inside of her, freeing the frustration she’d been choking on for months, and she found her voice. “Why do you care? You may love me like a wife at night, but you barely look at me in the day.”
Kolya dropped his hands and his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve pushed you away, but I’ve been so confused about my feelings. About Alina and Pavlo. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve had the same confusion.” She grasped at the shattered pieces of herself, pulling them together, finding strength, then took his chin and pulled it up so she could look in his eyes. “But I need to know now. How do you feel about me, Kolya?”
Kolya stared at her, his brilliant blue eyes shimmering like the summer sky. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, Katya. I can’t deny my true feelings any longer. And I don’t think Alina and Pavlo would want us to. After everything we’ve lived through, they would want us to be happy.”
His hand slid around to the back of her head as he kissed her. His firm lips pressing against hers reinforced all the feelings he’d put into his speech. Katya kissed him back, the broken shards inside her smoothing out into a beautiful path towards her future.
33
CASSIE
Illinois, June 2004
Cassie set the plate of varenyky on the table in front of Nick. Birdie was down for the night, and Nick had come over after work to help Cassie finish the journal. Luckily, Bobby had a good store of frozen varenyky that Cassie could boil up quick and serve with fried butter and onions. The crescent-shaped dough pockets of potatoes and meat were by far one of Cassie’s favorite foods, but she’d never mastered the uniform shape and pinch technique that Bobby made look so easy. There was no way she was tackling making those on her own while Bobby or Anna couldn’t help, and she knew Bobby wouldn’t mind her using her stash to feed Nick.
“Thanks for the late dinner.” Nick scooped three of the meat varenyky onto his plate, then topped them with the sour cream Cassie had grabbed from the fridge. “What’s the latest from the hospital?”
“She hasn’t woken up again since we all talked to her yesterday.” Cassie got up to turn off the stove before the tea kettle could whistle. She poured hot water into her cup and sat next to Nick.
Nick paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “What does Birdie say? Does she mention Alina anymore?”
“No. Not a word about her since she gave Bobby her ‘message’.” Cassie air quoted the word message.
“Well, whatever happened, it seemed to give Bobby some peace. That’s probably all that matters in the end.”
“You’re right. I should let it go.” Cassie pulled the box across the table and took out the journal. “You know, it’s been brutal waiting for you to come over so we could read this.”