The Things We Cannot Say(6)

I was surprised and delighted by the proposal, but also momentarily insecure, so I pulled away from him a little and asked carefully, “But how do you know you’ll still want to be with me once you see what life is like in the big city?”

He shifted then, adjusting my position so that we could face each other, and he cupped my face in his hands.

“All I know and all I need to know is that whenever we are apart, I always miss you, and I know you feel the same. That is never going to change—it doesn’t matter what college brings. You and I were made for each other—so whether you come to be with me or I come home to be with you—we will always find our way back to one another. This is just a little pause now, but you’ll see. Time apart will change nothing.”

This was just another amazing story Tomasz was telling—only this time, it was the story of our future, and a promise that we would share one after all. I could see it in my mind as if it had already happened—I knew in that moment that we would marry, and we would have babies, and then we would grow old together. I was astounded by the love I felt for Tomasz, and that I could see that same desperate love mirrored in his eyes felt like a miracle.

I was the luckiest girl in Poland—the luckiest girl on Earth, to find such a wonderful man and to have him love me back just as deeply as I loved him. He was clever, and so kind, and so handsome—and Tomasz Slaski had the most amazing eyes. They were a startling shade of green, and they always sparkled just a little, as if he was quietly enjoying a mischievous secret. I pulled him close then and I pressed my face into his neck.

“Tomasz,” I whispered, through the happiest of tears. “I was always going to wait for you. Even before you asked me to.”

Father took me into the town the next morning to say goodbye to Tomasz before he left for Warsaw. We were engaged now and that was a milestone the adults in our life respected, so for the first time ever, we embraced in front of our fathers. Aleksy carried Tomasz’s suitcase, and Tomasz held tightly to his train ticket. Despite the noisy sobs Emilia was making, she looked a picture in one of her pretty floral dresses. I fussed over him on the platform, fiddling with the lapel of his coat and straightening the fall of his thick sandy hair.

“I’ll write you,” Tomasz promised me. “And I’ll come home as much as I can.”

“I know,” I said. His expression was somber but his eyes were dry, and I was determined to be brave too that day until he was out of sight. He kissed me on the cheek, and then he shook my father’s hand. After saying goodbye to his father and sister, Tomasz took his suitcase, and walked onto the carriage. When he hung out the window to wave to us, his gaze was fixed on mine. I forced myself to smile until the train dragged him all the way from my sight. Aleksy gave me a brief hug and said gruffly, “You’ll make a fine daughter one day, Alina.”

“She’ll make a fine sister, Father,” Emilia protested. She gave one last shuddering sob and sniffed dramatically, then she took my hand and pulled me away from Aleksy’s embrace. I didn’t have much experience with children—but the soft spot I held for Emilia grew exponentially in that moment as she beamed up at me with those shiny green eyes. I kissed the side of her head, then hugged her tightly.

“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll be your sister even while we wait.”

“I know he didn’t want to leave you, Alina, and I know this is hard on you too,” Aleksy murmured. “But Tomasz has wanted to be a doctor since before he learned to read, and we had to let him go.” He fell silent for a moment, then he cleared his throat and asked, “You’ll visit with us while Tomasz is away, won’t you?”

“Of course I will,” I promised him. There was a lingering sadness in Aleksy’s gaze, and he and Tomasz looked so alike—the same green eyes, the same sandy hair, even the same build. Seeing Aleksy sad was like seeing Tomasz sad in the distant future, and I hated the very thought of it—so I gave him another gentle hug.

“You are already my family, Aleksy,” I said. He smiled down at me, just as Emilia cleared her throat pointedly. “And you too, little Emilia. I promise I’ll visit you both as often as I can until Tomasz comes back to us.”

My father was solemn on the walk back to the farm, and in her usual stoic style, my mother was impatient with my moping that evening. When I climbed into bed for an early night, she appeared in the doorway between my room and the living space.

“I am being brave, Mama,” I lied, wiping at my eyes to avoid her scolding for my tears. She hesitated, then she stepped into my room and extended her hand toward me. Nestled safe within her calloused palm was her wedding ring, a plain but thick gold band that she’d worn for as long as I remembered.

“When the time is right, we will have a wedding at the church in the township, and Tomasz can put this ring on your finger. We don’t have much to offer you for your marriage, but this ring was my mother’s, and it has seen Father and I through twenty-nine years of marriage. Good times, bad times—the ring has held us steadfast. I give it to you to bring you fortune for your future—but I want you to hold on to it even now so that while you wait, you will remember the life that’s ahead of you.”

As soon she finished her speech, she spun on her heel and pulled my door closed behind her, as if she knew I’d cry some more and she couldn’t even bear to see it. After that, I kept the ring buried in my clothes drawer, beneath a pile of woolen socks. Every night before I went to sleep, I’d take that little ring in my hand, and I’d go to my window.