43
They weren’t the only lovers saying farewell that day at Warsaw Station. Everywhere men in uniform said their good-byes to teary-eyed women. Anna was not ashamed of her tears, not when she had to part with both her son and her new husband.
Her husband!
It was still nearly inconceivable that she and Misha should actually be married. And even more remarkable was that she had found in her lifetime two men to love her so deeply and completely. But she had a new ring on her left hand, and a glow in her heart, as incontrovertible proof. The wedding had taken place four days ago, and since Misha insisted on a honeymoon, they spent their last days together at the Astoria Hotel in downtown Petrograd adjacent to St. Isaac’s Cathedral. Anna balked at the expense, for it was the most opulent hotel in town.
“I have the money,” Misha said. “In thirty years I’ve had nothing else to do with my money but save it!”
Anna felt like a true princess. Keenly aware of the fact that it must soon end, she let herself enjoy every minute. And now it was time to part at Warsaw Station.
“Misha, we did the right thing, didn’t we—marrying suddenly like a couple of crazy kids?”
“Unlike young people, Anna, we know how fragile and fleeting life is. Our mortality clings to us like ill-fitting clothes. We part knowing full well what may lie in our future.”
“It makes it no easier.”
“I never said it would.”
“Well, you must come back to me, Misha. I didn’t marry you just for four days in a fancy hotel.”
“We will have the rest of our lives together.”
He said it with such confidence that she choked back a sob. If only she could feel the same way!
“Take heart in this, my dear wife,” he added. “When I return, I will not leave again. I plan to retire from the military. For better or worse, you will have me around every day, all day.”
He bent down and kissed her. “It is real, then? We are married!”
“Until—” She paused, unable to say, until death do us part. Instead, she murmured the word she wanted to believe: “Forever!”
Yuri had hardly let go of his new wife since their wedding day, and now he held her even closer. They were an island in the midst of the busy train station, but they were not a calm island. Katya clung to him, weeping. And he felt close to tears himself. It did seem too cruel that he and Katya should finally come together only to be separated once again.
“I’ll just be in the Medical Corp,” he tried to comfort her. “I won’t be at the front lines.”
“I’ll be counting on that. Please, don’t be a hero, Yuri.”
“Me? Never! I tremble at the thought of getting too close to a bullet.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Believe this, then, Katya—that I love you, and I will do nothing to jeopardize our future together.” He kissed her again . . . and again. It was the only way to keep their minds off their fears. “It could be worse,” he said as he glanced over to where his mother and Misha were saying their good-byes. “We could be like my poor uncle Misha who waited thirty-five years to marry the woman he loves, only to be parted from her after four days.”
“Yes . . . that is too bad.” She seemed relieved for the distraction. “What a surprise their announcement was! At least, I was surprised. I didn’t think people that old could still fall in love.”
“Just wait until we’re that old! I will fall in love with you again and again! But those of us who know Mama and Misha shouldn’t have been surprised. They have been friends forever. In fact, when Papa died I remember thinking that maybe Misha would someday take his place—not that anyone really could take Papa’s place, but you know what I mean. I thought when the period of mourning ended, he would certainly marry Mama. Instead, he left. Mama just told me that back then she wasn’t ready to remarry. Her love for Papa was too strong. When she finally was ready, Misha was already gone.”
“You didn’t get your persistence from your mama, then,” chuckled Katya.
“That is definitely from my papa.”
“But they loved each other all that time and did nothing . . . it’s hard to comprehend.”
He shrugged. “I suppose old folks are not as impetuous as the young.”
“Thank goodness for impetuosity!” For the first time that morning, she smiled.
A ripple of warmth ran through Yuri as he saw the glow in her eyes. That’s exactly how he wanted to remember her.
The train whistle shrieked loudly, and instantly their smiles vanished.
“All aboard!”
For a brief moment the entire station seemed to freeze, like a still frame of a moving picture. Not a soul in that place was immune to the fateful call.
In another moment, the celluloid started moving again, and the station erupted in a frenzy of activity.
Yuri wanted to fight it. He wanted to keep still, keep holding his wife. He did not want to be a part of the dreaded flow toward the waiting cars. But people continued to shove past them, jostling them. He lost his hold on her, and for a terrible moment they were forced apart.
“Katya!”
He pushed against the movement of the throng reaching out his hand. A soldier stumbled between them, and Yuri almost knocked the man down. Finally, his and Katya’s hands clasped, he held on as if to a life preserver. In another moment, the pressing crowd pushed them so close together their noses touched. Their panic turned to laughter at the irony. Arms around each other, they let the crowd propel them along.
But they reached the open door of the car too soon. Yuri only had a brief instant to kiss his wife before he was forced to climb the steps of the car. He twisted around trying to see over the heads of the other soldiers that pushed in after him, but the crowd had swallowed her up.
“Yuri!” came a familiar voice.
“Misha?”
“Come with me.”
With Misha’s big body, in the intimidating uniform of the Imperial Cossack Guard, shouldering a path through the packed railcar, Yuri followed silently. The passengers gave way before them, and they reached the back of the car, where they had a clear view from a window of the platform outside.
Anna and Katya were standing side by side, waving toward the car. Misha lowered the window and shouted, drawing their attention. It was such a small thing, but Yuri could not express how much it meant to have those few more moments of eye contact with his wife as the train lurched into motion.
“Thank you, Uncle Misha!”
“I told your mama I would look out for you.”
Yuri kept his gaze fixed on the window. He didn’t want the mighty Cossack to see the tears welling up in his eyes. Then, in the reflection from the glass, he caught a glimpse of Misha’s ruddy, tear-stained cheeks.