Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(138)

She did not go inside the State Department building this time but sat patiently on the bench on C Street under the trees while Vikki smoked and Anthony played on the grass, and Vikki finally said, "This is your idea of a short stop? We took only two weeks off."

Tatiana watched the workers saunter out for lunch. She watched Sam Gulotta come out and walk past her bench. Tatiana did not acknowledge him. He walked another ten yards, slowed down, then stopped. Turning around, he stared at her for a few moments, and slowly came back.

Raising her eyes to him, Tatiana said, "Hello. I don't want to bother you." She introduced him to Vikki.

Gulotta smiled and sat down next to her. "You're not bothering me. It's nice to see you. I have nothing new to tell you." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Nothing at all?"

"No. Europe is becoming an awful mess." He paused. "I know I told you that when things relaxed a bit, I could perhaps make inquiries...but I was wrong about things becoming easier. They've become worse than ever. Us, France, Britain, the Soviets, all in Germany, and worse--all in Berlin. One diplomatic faux pas and we're in another world war next week."

"I know." She stood up. "Well, thank you."

"Have you become an American citizen yet?"

"Yes, just."

Gulotta said, "Do you want to go have a bite to eat? It's lunch, we can get a sandwich."

"I'd like to, maybe another time. But I brought you something. I made them this morning." Tatiana took out a bag full of meatpirozhki . "Last time you said you liked them..."

"Very much, thank you." He took the bag from her. "I would have liked lunch, too."

Tatiana and Sam said goodbye.

Vikki pinched Tatiana very hard after Sam was out of sight. "Tania, you vixen! You strumpet! You libertine! All this time you've been up to this!"

"Vikki, up to nothing," Tatiana said calmly.

"Oh yes? Is he married?"

"He was, yes." Tatiana paused, wondering if she should tell Vikki about Sam. She decided to tell. "His wife died three years ago in plane crash carrying medical supplies to our troops in Okinawa. He is raising his two boys by himself."

"Tatiana!"

"Vikki, I don't have time to explain to you."

"You've got two weeks. But we have thirteen million troops abroad, and as soon as we win this war, they're all coming home through the Port of New York."

"Oh yes? Because United States has no other coastal city?"

"That's right. Now tell me why you have to go all the way to Washington to find a man when our beautiful New York is going to have thirteen million?"

"Not speaking to you about it."

After spending five days at the Grand Canyon, Tatiana drove a rented car south through Arizona, headed for Tucson. Vikki, being a city girl, did not know how to drive. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

They stopped in Phoenix. "Just a dusty, one-horse village," Vikki called it. One scorching summer evening they were sitting on a blanket on the hood of their car, looking at the sunset. The Sonoran Desert, covered with white saguaros, stretches for hundreds of miles across southeastern Arizona. Home to 298 varieties of cactus, it is the largest desert in North America, spanning much of Arizona and New Mexico. In the near distance are the foothills of the Maricopa mountains. The indigo blue sky stands in stark contrast to the brick and cream hue of the earth. Except for the flickering of an occasional jackrabbit chasing a previously motionless Gila monster, the desert is silent.

They sat on the hood of the sedan, their backs to the windshield, northwest of the Superstition Mountains. Anthony crawled on the ground, at two years old interested in only two things: getting as mucky as possible and finding a snake, not necessarily in that order.

"Anthony," called Vikki, wiping the perspiration off her face. "Get off the ground. Do you know that snakes swallow their food whole?"

"All right, Vikki," said Tatiana. "Enough."

"Whole, Anthony," Vikki repeated.

"But I big boy. I want small snake." Anthony was verbal for a boy of two.

"You're not a big boy. You're a small boy."

"Vikki."

"What?"

Tatiana said nothing, just stared at Vikki.

"Why do you do that? You call out my name, as if that's enough for me to know exactly what you want. Vikki what?"

"You know what."

"No, I'm not going to stop. Aren't you at all concerned?"

"Not really," said Tatiana. "Anthony, you find snake, you let me know. We take snake back to New York and cook it."

"That'll be a nice change from bacon. For your next birthday," said Vikki, leaning back and taking a drink, "I'm going to buy you a book on mothering, a book on cooking, and also some `a's and `the's. You don't seem to have any."

"Some what?"

"Never mind. But seriously though, Tania, you eat Planter's peanuts, don't you?"

"What?"

"Planter's peanuts." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"No, I don't like peanuts."