36

“Anyone home?” Talia’s voice rang through the flat.

Yuri was coming from his room just as Talia came in. He hadn’t seen her since that night, less than a week ago, when he had told her he did not love her. She had decided to go live with some other dancers near the theater. Yuri felt bad, especially for Raisa’s sake, that his actions had forced Talia from their home. He felt no better now as they greeted each other with a rather stilted formality that had never existed between them before.

“Good to see you, Talia.”

“And you, Yuri.”

“I hope you plan to stay for dinner.”

She sniffed at the fragrant air. “Mama’s borscht is hard to resist.” But she hardly seemed enthusiastic. There was a strain in her voice that seemed—he hoped, at least—to stem from something other than their problems. “Maybe I’ll stay for a little while, but I didn’t come for a meal.”

“Is something wrong? Is the news about Serbia troubling you?”

“Are Mama and your mother in the kitchen? I think I should speak to them, too.”

Now really concerned, Yuri followed Talia into the kitchen. Anna and Raisa stopped their conversation and greeted Talia warmly, obviously thrilled at the unexpected visit.

“I’m afraid I’m not here for a casual visit,” Talia said. “I’ve just come from Andrei’s place. I went to see him, wanting to talk about events in Europe. But he wasn’t there.” She paused, worry etching her fine features. “I spoke to his roommate, who told me he’d moved out four days ago.”

“Moved out?” said Anna. “But he’s said nothing.”

“You’ve seen him since then?”

Anna shook her head. “Not since—” She stopped and glanced at Yuri.

“I haven’t seen him either,” Yuri said. “I wanted to give him time to . . . you know, cool off.” Talia probably knew nothing of his altercation with Andrei. This didn’t seem a good time to tell her.

“Are you sure of this, Talia?” Anna asked. “I mean, he would have told me. Did anyone say where he moved?”

“The fellow I spoke with didn’t know. He said Andrei was upset when he left. I’m worried.”

Yuri tried to sound casual. “I’m sure there is no cause to worry. You know Andrei, how impulsive he can be at times. He’s just sulking somewhere, probably intentionally trying to make us—”

“Yuri!” scolded Anna. “What a way to speak of your brother! You know as well as I that he had good reason to be upset.”

“Why? What happened?” asked Talia.

Yuri hesitated. Was this thing never going to go away? Would he never have to stop paying for his stupidity?

He said with resignation, “Andrei and I had a bit of a row. He was upset about what I’d done . . . about how I treated you, Talia.”

“Then, it’s all my fault!”

“You know very well that’s not so. It was my fault—all of it. And now it’s up to me to do something about it.”

“What can you do?”

“Find the little brat, that’s what.” He strode into the hall and snatched his coat from one of the hooks there. “Would you keep dinner warm for me, Mama?”

“Where will you go? How do you know where to look?” asked Talia.

“I doubt he’ll be too hard to find. One thing he’s not is devious.”

“Well, I’m going with you,” Talia said. “I know him better than anyone.”

It was well past midnight before Yuri and Talia gave up their search. They had visited all his known acquaintances and none knew a thing—or were not telling. One of Andrei’s Social Democrat friends, whom Yuri had never liked, seemed extremely secretive—but then all of those fellows tended to be that way. Andrei seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

Yuri thought it was rash behavior even for Andrei, a gross overreaction. It was hard for him not to be a little peeved at his brother—after all, he’d had nothing to eat in hours and had been on his feet all day, and now had been forced to traverse the city in this crazy search. Yuri was tired and grumpy when he and Talia paused in a little park to have a rest. They sank down on a park bench, both silent and moody. It was a clear, beautiful night, too, not unlike that night when he had exchanged thoughtless words of love with Talia. All but the weather was different now.

“What do you think he’s done, Yuri?” said Talia.

“I don’t know, but at least he could have let Mama know. It was thoughtless of him.”

“I don’t think he would do such a thing unless something was terribly wrong. More than just being angry at you. What if he’s been arrested? He wouldn’t be the first revolutionary to just disappear like that—oh, I wish I hadn’t thought of that. Now I’m really worried.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing of the sort.”

“Then, what could it be? What could make him just disappear like this? He isn’t so heartless that he’d do this in retaliation for some little row.”

“No, you’re right, Talia. He wouldn’t. But it wasn’t really a little row—not to Andrei.”

“What do you mean?”

“I promised him I wouldn’t tell you . . .” Yuri shifted uncomfortably. This was presenting him with a mental quandary. Andrei would have scoffed at him for agonizing over this and probably would have blurted out what felt right at the moment. But whenever Yuri acted impetuously, it always seemed to backfire. He thought briefly of Katya and his frequently impetuous behavior with her. It seemed it was going to work out now, although he hadn’t heard from her since seeing her in Moscow over a week ago. She had assured him she would meet him in St. Petersburg soon and that she would not turn cool as she had in the past. But he was getting a bit worried since she still had not come.

He shifted his thoughts back to Talia. What would be the benefit of telling her of Andrei’s love? It seemed Talia had a right to know. Perhaps if she did, she would begin to view Andrei in a different light and realize that he was a desirable man for her. In addition to that, it would also help take her mind off her disappointment and hurt over Yuri’s rejection.

And what of the harm? Well, it would make Andrei furious at Yuri—but then he was already mad as a wounded bear at his brother, so, what did that matter?

“I don’t want you to break a promise to your brother,” Talia said magnanimously, though her tone indicated that she wouldn’t fight him if he did want to tell her.

“Now that I think about it,” said Yuri, “I believe this is one promise that should be broken. Andrei can be so glib sometimes with his tongue, yet when it really might do some good, he has chosen to rein it in. He’s been keeping a secret from both of us for years—not unlike the secret you kept from me, Talia. I guess it was inevitable that we three should have had such a complex relationship. Not bound by blood, yet we grew up practically as family. We’ve walked a thin line between different forms of love—”

“Are you saying it was wrong of me to love you as I did, Yuri?”

“Not at all. I mean, what woman could help falling for such a fine specimen of manhood as I.” He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the conversation but only drew a perplexed half-smile from Talia. He began again more earnestly, “And neither is it wrong for Andrei to have fallen in love with you.”

“What are you saying, Yuri?”

“Talia, I didn’t think you were as dense as I am. But perhaps it’s like scientific observation—you can get so close to a problem that you lose your ability to solve it. You have to step back and get a broad picture before you can see the small thing you missed before. Talia, dear, Andrei is in love with you. That’s why he flew off the handle as he did the other day. When you and I were together, it killed him. Yet he was willing to accept that because he knew it made you happy—that’s how much he loves you. Then, when I hurt you—”

“Oh! Poor Andrei!” Sudden tears rose in Talia’s eyes. How well she knew the emotional torments Andrei was suffering—because of Yuri, she had suffered the same.

“I think he left,” Yuri continued, “because he couldn’t face either of us anymore. Me—well, he just plain hates me. You, because he could no longer face you and keep his secret.”

“And he felt it was better to leave than to tell me.”

“Was it, Talia?” Yuri gazed incisively at her.

“He’s my dearest friend in the world. I suppose if I had to choose between the two of you, Yuri, I’d have to choose Andrei—for a friend.”

“I’ve always known that. And it makes sense, too, because the romantic feelings you’ve held for me also held you back a bit from me. Not so with Andrei.”

“I had no romantic feelings for Andrei.” It was a statement that ended with a slight question mark. Talia sighed. “And now what?”

“Does knowing how he feels change how you think of him?”

“I’m confused. Earlier this evening when we were pretty certain he had disappeared, I felt so empty. I felt as if part of me would die if I never saw him again. There are things I want to talk to him about—a new routine I’m trying, a problem I’m having with one of the other dancers, the fear I have about the prospect of war. Not long ago we were talking about God, and I know if we could talk more, I could help him unravel his confusion about spiritual matters. I was walking through the Summer Garden the other day and I realized that he should paint some pictures of the lovely, old statues there before they crumble away. I wanted to tell him that, and—”

“Talia, if that’s not love, what is?”

“Of course I love him, but—”

“I’m certainly not one to give advice on love,” Yuri broke in, “but think about what you feel for Andrei and what you feel—or felt—for me. What is more fulfilling to you? Which do you need more? How often did you think of me just when you wanted someone to share some little trivial aspect of your life with?”

She smiled. “I mostly dreamed of you as my husband, whom I would gaze at in awe—”

“But not one with whom you’d share all your innermost secrets.”

“I was too busy doing that with Andrei.”

“Exactly!” Yuri grinned. He was beginning to feel like cupid. “What do you want, Talia? A man to worship or one to share—really share—your life with?”

“Oh, the questions you raise, Yuri . . .”

“I know. They are rather unsettling, even to me. Will you give them some further thought?”

“How could I not think about them? But, Yuri, do you think it’s too late to do anything about it? What if I don’t see Andrei again?”

“We’ll see him again. A bad penny, you know.”

She gave him a playful thump on the arm. “You know you want to see him just as badly as I do.”

Yuri nodded thoughtfully.

“Yuri, let’s pray for him. That God would keep him safe and bring him back to us—soon.”

Yuri prayed as fervently as he had in a long time. It felt good, and he was thankful that his spiritual bottleneck had been opened that night with his mother. How had he managed without his faith? Well, he knew the answer to that when he considered the mess with Katya. He hadn’t managed very well at all. During a short pause as he and Talia prayed, he silently appealed to God to give him direction about his feelings for Katya.