Papa threw down his vodka glass, cursed, and stumbled into the next room. Mama followed him, slamming the door behind her. Tatiana heard Mama’s sobs. “It’s always like this,” she said unsteadily. “She cries, and someone goes in to apologize. Usually it’s me.”

Dasha was still standing glaring at Alexander. “I cannot believe,” she said, “that you just sided with her against me.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Dasha,” Alexander said loudly. “You think I sided against you because I wouldn’t let you hit your little sister who has a broken leg? Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Or why don’t you hit me? I know why,” Alexander went on angrily. “Because you’d only be able to do it once.”

“You’re right,” Dasha said, and tried to slap him.

He grabbed her hand, pushing it hard away. “You’re out of control, Dasha,” he said. “And I’m leaving.”

Dimitri, who hadn’t said a word, sighed, stood and left with Alexander.

As soon as they were out the door, Dasha went for Tatiana, who couldn’t stand and fell onto the dining table, right against the mashed potatoes she had made an hour ago.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Dasha yelled. “Look what you’ve done!”

The door swung open, and Alexander came through. Grabbing Dasha by the arm and yanking her away from Tatiana, he said, “Tania, can you give us a minute, please?”

Tatiana went out, shutting the door behind herself, still holding the napkin to her nose.

She heard Alexander shouting and then Dasha shouting.

She and Dimitri stood in the hallway and looked at each other dumbly. Shrugging, Dimitri said, “He’s like that. He’s got that foundling temper.”

Tatiana wanted to say that she had never seen him lose it before tonight but remained silent, trying to listen. Dimitri said, “He needs to stay out of it and let the family take care of its own business. Don’t you think? Tomorrow it will all be better.”

Tatiana said, “Reminds me of that old joke: ‘Vasili, why do you beat me all the time? I haven’t done anything wrong.’ And Vasili replies, ‘You should be thankful. If I knew what you were doing, I’d kill you.’ ”

Dimitri laughed as if that were the funniest thing he had heard all day.

She heard Alexander’s voice from inside the room. “Can’t you see?” he was yelling at Dasha. “She isn’t driving me away, you are — by your behavior. How do you think I can ever take your side when you hit your sister?”

Dasha said something.

“Dasha, don’t give me your stupid apologies. I don’t need them.” Pause. “I can’t continue, no.”

From inside the door Tatiana heard hysterical sobbing. “Please, Alex, please don’t go, please, I’m sorry, you’re right, my love, you’re right. Please don’t go. What can I do? Do you want me to apologize to her?”

“Dasha, if you touch your sister again, I will finish with you instantly,” Tatiana heard Alexander say. “Do you understand?”

“I will never hit her again,” Dasha promised.

Silence from the room.

Tatiana was dumbstruck.

Not knowing where to look, she wiped her bleeding nose and looked at Dimitri, shrugging her shoulders. “Can’t have a moment alone even to fight,” she said. “Well, at least that worked out.” Her body began to slide down.

Dimitri picked her up, sat her on the sofa in the hallway, and wiped her face, patting her back. “Are you all right?” he kept saying.

The Sarkovs knocked on their hall door, also wanting to know if everything was all right. One fight in the communal apartment and everyone knew. Everyone heard. Everything.

“It’s great,” said Tatiana. “Just a little argument. Everything is fine.”

Summarily, Dasha walked out of the room and apologized sullenly to Tatiana. She went back inside to be with Alexander and closed the door. Tatiana asked Dimitri to go and then limped upstairs to the roof, where she sat and prayed for a bomb.

She saw Alexander walk out of the stairwell doors and come toward her. Tatiana was sitting talking to Anton, and though her heart had skipped a beat, she didn’t acknowledge him. Her hands were in Anton’s hands. Anton nudged her and stopped talking. Sighing, Tatiana turned to Alexander. “What?” she said unhappily.

“Give me your hand,” he whispered.

“No.”

“Give me your hand.”

Loudly she said, “Anton, you remember Dasha’s Alexander? Shake hands, why don’t you?”

Anton let go of Tatiana and shook hands with Alexander, who said, “Anton, will you excuse us for a moment?”

Reluctantly Anton scooted away on his haunches, still staying close enough to overhear.

“Let’s move away from him,” Alexander said to Tatiana.

“It’s hard for me to move around so much. I’m fine right here.”

Without arguing further, Alexander picked Tatiana up and walked a few steps away to set her down in the corner of the roof where there was no Anton and no Mariska — the seven-year-old girl who practically lived on the roof because her parents were drunk down on the second floor.

“Give me your hands, Tania.”

Unwillingly Tatiana complied. Her hands were shaking. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly. “Does this happen often?”

“I’m fine. It happens every once in a while.” She shook her head, “Why?”

“I will never let anyone hurt you,” he said.

“But what good is it? Now they’re all angry at me. You’ve just had a bit of Dasha, you’re going to leave, but I’m still here, in that bed, in that room, in that hallway. I’m still the trash.”

His face was full of pity and feeling. “I haven’t had a bit of Dasha. I will not let them hurt you. I don’t give a shit if Dasha finds out about us, or if Dimitri—” He broke off. Tatiana strained to listen. “I don’t give a shit if I expose us to all the world. I will not let anyone hurt you.” He paused, peering into her face. “And you know it. So if you don’t want to see me hang, or ruin your plans to spare Dasha from the truth, I suggest you be more careful around people who might hit you.”

“Where do you come from?” she asked. “Do they not do this in your America? Here in Russia, parents hit their children, and the children take it. Big sisters hit their little sisters, and the little sisters take it. That’s just how it is.”

“I understand,” Alexander said. “But you’re too small to let anyone hit you. Plus, he is drinking too much. It makes him more volatile. You must be more careful around him.”

His hands were soothing and warm. Tatiana half-closed her eyes, imagining only one thing. Her mouth parted in a silent moan.

“Babe, don’t do that,” Alexander said, his hands holding hers tighter.

“Shura, I’m lost,” said Tatiana. “I don’t know what to do. I’m completely lost.”

Suddenly she pulled her hands away and with her eyes motioned behind him. Dasha was coming toward them from the stairwell.

She stopped near them and said, “I came to see my sister.” She looked from Alexander to Tatiana. “I didn’t know you were still here. You said you had to go.”

“I did have to go,” Alexander said, standing up. He gave Dasha a quick peck. “I’ll see you in a few days, and you, Tania, go and get your nose looked at. Make sure it’s not broken.”

Tatiana was barely able to nod.

After he left, Dasha sat next to her. “What did he want?”

“Nothing. He wanted to see if I was all right.” In that instant something overcame Tatiana, and before she opened her mouth and told Dasha everything, she said, “You know what, Dasha? You’re my older sister and I love you, and I’m going to be all right tomorrow, but right now you’re the last person I want to talk to. I realize I do it too often — bow to you when you want me to talk, or to go away, or whatever. Well, tomorrow I will bow to you again, but right now I don’t want to talk to you. I just want to sit here and think.” Tatiana paused and said pointedly, “So please, Dasha, go away.”

Dasha didn’t move. “Look, I’m sorry, Tania, I really am. But you shouldn’t have said what you said to Papa and Mama. You know how broken up they are about Pasha. You know they already blame themselves.”

“Dasha, I don’t want to hear your backhanded apology!”

“What’s gotten into you?” asked Dasha. “You never talked that way before. To anyone.”

“Please, Dasha, please. Go away.”

Tatiana sat on the roof until morning, wrapped in the old cardigan, her legs cold, her face cold.

She was stunned by her unwavering intimacy with Alexander. Though they hadn’t spoken much, though he had been cool to her, though the last words they had exchanged were bitter, she had no doubt as she laid into her mother and father that if she needed defending, the man who went to find her at Luga would stand up for her. That conviction had given her the strength to yell at Papa, to say the insulting thing to him, no matter how true it was. No matter how much she had wanted to say it, she never would have dared had she not felt Alexander’s strength.

And when Tatiana stood behind him, she felt even braver, not caring for her bleeding nose, for her throbbing ribs. She knew he would not let even Dasha hurt her; she knew this as she knew her own heart, and that knowledge in the dark of night suddenly made her at peace with herself, at peace with her life, and at peace even with Dasha.

Dimitri, for all his purported feelings for Tatiana, had done nothing, as she knew he wouldn’t. Her opinion of Dimitri hadn’t changed a whit. Dimitri was a Soviet man. She did not blame Dimitri for this — for being true to his nature.

Yet she was using all her strength to deny her own: Tatiana knew that she belonged irrevocably to Alexander.

She thought she could extricate herself from him, that she could go on with her life somehow, that he could go on with his.

It was all a sham.

This wasn’t a way of getting over a passing crush on your older sister’s swain. This was the moon of Jupiter and the sun of Venus aligning in the sky over her head.


5


When Alexander walked into his quarters, Dimitri was lying down in his top bunk.

“What’s going on?” said Alexander tiredly.

“You tell me,” said Dimitri.

“Let’s see. Didn’t I just see you? I’m going to sleep. I have to wake up at five tomorrow.”

“I’ll get to the point, then,” Dimitri said, hopping off the bunk. “I want you to end the charade you’re playing with my girl.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Can’t I just have this one thing for myself? You already have a good life, don’t you? Think about all the things you have that you want. You’re a lieutenant in the Red Army. You have a company of men obeying your every order. I’m not in your company—”

“No, but you’re in mine, Private,” said Anatoly Marazov, jumping off the bunk next to Alexander’s. “It’s late, and we all have long days ahead of us. You shouldn’t be here raising your voice. You’re here by privilege.”

Dimitri saluted him. Alexander stood by quietly.

“At attention, Private,” Marazov said, coming up to Dimitri. “I thought when you came here you were just relaxing, waiting for your friend.”

“It’s just a small matter between me and the lieutenant, sir,” said Dimitri.

“It’s only a small matter, Private, when I’m not woken up out of a much-needed sleep. As soon as I’m awake, it ceases to be a small matter and becomes something else entirely. Now, at ease.” Marazov, who was in his long johns, walked around Dimitri, who was fully uniformed, and said, “Can this small matter wait till morning?”

Alexander stepped in. “Lieutenant, can you give us a few minutes?”

Trying not to smile, Marazov bowed his head. “As you wish, Lieutenant.”

“We will take it out in the hall.”

They stepped out into the corridor; Alexander closed the door behind him. “Dima, what’s the problem? Don’t get yourself into trouble with your commanding officer.”

“Cut the shit. Tell me, when is it enough for you?” Remaining at a distance from Alexander, Dimitri hissed, “You can have any girl in the world. Why do you want mine?”

It took all of Alexander’s strength not to ask Dimitri the same question. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. She was getting hurt. I helped her.”

Dimitri continued, “I’m just a grunt. I have to follow everybody’s orders and eat everybody’s shit. She is the only one who treats me like a human being.”

She can’t help it. She treats everybody like that. “But, Dima,” Alexander said, “you also have your life. Think of all the things you don’t have that you don’t want. You have not been sent down south, where men are falling into Hitler’s meat grinder. Marazov’s unit is staying here until the front comes to Leningrad. I’ve taken care of that. To help you.” He paused. “Because I’m your friend.” He took a step toward Dimitri. “I have been very good to you over the years. What has happened to our friendship?”