Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(152)

"So why don't you go for Edward then? He is available."

"Don't think I haven't tried!" rejoined Vikki. "He is not interested inme ."

Vikki was right about Jeb. Hewas possessive and he was condescending. But Tatiana couldn't help it--she wanted the agony of his big arms around her.

Tatiana thought of Alexander; she imagined Alexander whole and in the imagining created the kind of hell for herself that only the true masochist can create, thethinking male praying mantis who creeps to the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

female fully knowing that as soon as she is finished with him, she is going to snap off his head and devour him. And still he creeps, with his eyes closed, with his heart shut tight, creeps to the gates of life and death, and thanks God for being alive.

A couple of weeks before Christmas, when Tatiana came to pick up Anthony from Isabella's, Isabella sat her down and, giving her a hot cup of tea, said, "What's wrong, Tania?"

"Nothing."

Isabella studied her.

Tatiana looked at her hands. "I wish having faith was easier."

"Faith in what?"

"Faith in this life. In me. Faith in doing what I am supposed to." I don't want to forget him, she wanted to say.

"Darling, of course you're doing what you're supposed to," Isabella said. "Go on the way all women do when their husbands have died."

"But what if he is not dead?" Tatiana whispered. "I need some proof to have faith."

Isabella replied, "But, darling, then it wouldn't be called faith, would it, if you had proof?"

Tatiana didn't say anything.

"You grit your teeth and go on," Isabella said, "just as you have been doing."

"Dear Isabella," said Tatiana, "as you know, I'm queen of grit teeth. But every day that moves me farther from him, I hate that day."

"But that's when you need faith the most--when it's darkest around you." Isabella watched Tatiana thoughtfully. "Honey, it must be better now than it was? You were so sad when you first came to New York. It's better now?"

"It is, Isabella," Tatiana replied. On the outside her life was right. But inside was his damn medal. And his damn Orbeli.

"Would you feel better if you had more proof than his death certificate?"

Tatiana made no reply. Whatcould she say?

"Pray he is dead, darling. Pray he is at peace, that he is not tormented anymore. He is not hurting. He is free. He is your guardian angel, looking over you."

"Isabella," said Tatiana. "Don't tell me he is dead, because if I believe that, it's harder for me to go on living--knowing that with one bullet, I could be with him." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Who'd take you," asked Isabella, "if you died and left your son an orphan?"

"Why not?" said Tatiana. "He died and left his son an orphan."

"So if it's easier, believe he is still alive."

"If he's still alive, then how can I go on with my life?" Tatiana emitted a cry of such physical pain that Isabella paled and moved her chairaway from her.

"Oh, Tania," Isabella whispered. "How can I help you?"

Tatiana stood up. "You can't help me." She called for Anthony, taking her bag from the floor. "Must be pleasant to see things so clearly. Well, why not? You are still with Travis. Your faith is easy--you have living proof right here."

"And you do, too--here he is," said Isabella, pointing at Anthony who came bounding out of the den, leaped into his mother's arms and said, "Mama, I want ice krrreeeem for dinner."

"All right, son," said Tatiana.

And he did.

"Mama, how come Timothy has a daddy, and Ricky has a daddy, and Sean has a daddy, too?"

"Honey, what's your question?" They were walking to school near Battery Park. It was Anthony's second week in playgroup. Tatiana was intent on introducing Anthony to more children his own age. She thought he was around grown-ups too much. Around Isabella too much. His brow was creased in an adult manner; Tatiana didn't like it. He spoke too fluently, he was too pensive, too solemn for a boy of two and half. She thought playgroup would do him good.

And now this.

"Why I don't have a daddy?"

"Baby, you have daddy. He is just not here. Just like Mickey's daddy, and Bobby's daddy, and Phil's, too. Their daddies aren't here, and their mommies take care of them. You're lucky. You have your mommy, and Vikki and Isabella--"

"Mama, when is Daddy going to come back? Ricky's daddy came back. He walks him to school in the morning."

Tatiana stared into the middle distance.

"Ricky wished for his dad for Christmas. Maybe I can wish for my dad for Christmas."

"Maybe," whispered Tatiana.

Anthony didn't let his mother kiss him at the doors of the school or walk him inside. Squaring his shoulders and creasing his solemn brow, he went through the doors himself, carrying his small lunch bag. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

The four stages of grief. First there was shock. And then there was denial. That lasted until this morning. Today, onward to the next stage. Anger. When will acceptance come?