The Summer Garden. Paullina Simons

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style="font-size:15px;">      “Good question. But perhaps he’ll be reasonable.”

      “You think so? He beats his mother to take her money!” Sighing, Tatiana twitched in the middle between her two men.

      “Well, we can’t just do nothing.”

      “Yes, we can. Let’s not ask for someone else’s trouble.” We’ve got plenty. She didn’t know how to bring up Sam Gulotta, cold terror gluing his name to her throat. She tried to keep thinking about someone else’s troubles. She didn’t want Alexander near that woman’s son. But what to do?

      “You’re right,” Tatiana finally said with a throat clearing. “We can’t do nothing. You know what? I think I’ll go and speak to him. I’m a woman. I’m little. I’ll talk to him nicely, the way I talk to everybody. He’s not going to get rough with me.”

      She felt Alexander stiffen behind her. “Are you joking?” he whispered. “He beats his mother! Don’t even think of coming close to him.”

      “Shh. It’ll be okay. Really.”

      He turned her around to face him. “I’m serious,” he said, his eyes on her unblinking and intense. “Don’t take one step in his direction. Not one step. Because a syllable out of him against you, and he won’t be speaking to anyone ever again, and I’ll be in an American prison. Is that what you want?”

      “No, darling,” she said softly. He was talking! He was animated. He had raised his whispering voice! She kissed his face, kissed him and kissed him, until he kissed her back, his hands pacing over her nightgown.

      “Have I mentioned how much I hate you wearing clothes in my bed?”

      “I know, but there’s a little boy with us,” she whispered. “I can’t be naked next to him.”

      “You don’t fool me,” Alexander said heavily.

      “Darling, it’s the boy,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “Besides, my slip is made of silk, not burlap. Have you noticed I’m naked underneath?”

      Alexander slipped his hands under. “Why were you crying with Vikki?” Something cool and unwelcome got into his voice. “What, you miss your New York?”

      Guiltily Tatiana glanced at him. Lonely she glanced at him. “Why do you keep going next door every night?” she whispered, moaning lightly.

      Alexander took his hands away. “Come on. You’ve seen Nick’s family. I’m the only one he can talk to. He’s got nobody besides me.”

      Me neither, Tatiana thought, the hot hurt of it burning her eyes.

      She couldn’t say anything to Alexander about Sam Gulotta and the State Department. There was no more room on his cold plate of anguish.

      The next evening Anthony wandered back by himself after only half an hour outside with his father and the colonel. The sun had set and the mosquitoes were out. Tatiana bathed him, and as she was applying Calamine lotion to his bites, she asked, “Ant, what do Daddy and Nick talk about?”

      “I don’t know,” Anthony said vaguely. “War. Fighting.”

      “What about tonight? Why did you come back so early?”

      “Nick keeps asking Dad for something.”

      “What does he keep asking Dad for?”

      “To kill him.”

      A crouching Tatiana staggered backward, nearly falling on the floor. “What?”

      “Don’t be upset with Dad. Please.”

      She patted him. “Anthony … you’re a good boy.”

      Seeing the crashed look on his mother’s face Anthony began to whimper.

      She took him in her arms. “Shh. Everything is going to be all right, son.”

      “Dad says he doesn’t want to kill him.”

      Tatiana quickly dressed the boy for bed. “You wait here, you promise? Don’t go outside in your nightshirt. Stay in your bed and look at your book of boats and fish.”

      “Where are you going?”

      “To get Daddy.”

      “Are you going to … come right back after you get Dad?” he said uncertainly.

      “Of course. Anthony, of course. I’ll be right back.”

      “Are you going to yell at him?”

      “No, son.”

      “Mama, please don’t be mad if he killed the colonel.”

      “Shh. Look at your book. I’ll be right back.”

      Tatiana got her nurse’s bag from the closet. It took her a few minutes to compose herself, but finally she walked determined down the road.

      “Uh-oh,” said Nick when he saw her. “I think there’s going to be some hollerin’.”

      “There isn’t,” Tatiana said coldly, opening the gate.

      “It’s not his fault,” Nick said. “It’s mine. I’ve kept him.”

      “My husband is a big boy,” she said. “He knows when enough is enough.” She looked at Alexander accusingly. “But he does forget that his son speaks English and hears every word the adults say.”

      Alexander got up. “On that note, good night, Nick.”

      “Leave the chair,” said Tatiana. “Go. Ant is by himself.”

      “You’re not coming?”

      “I’m going to talk to Nick for a minute.” She looked steadily at Alexander. “Go on. I’ll be right along.”

      Alexander didn’t move. “What are you doing?” he said quietly.

      She could see he wasn’t going to go and she wasn’t going to argue in front of a stranger. Though an argument would’ve been nice. “Nothing. I’m going to talk to Nick.”

      “No, Tania. Come.”

      “You don’t even know what—”

      “I don’t care. Come.”

      Ignoring his outstretched hand, she sat down in the chair and turned to the colonel. “I know what you’re talking to my husband about,” Tatiana said. “Stop it.”

      Nick shook his head. “You’ve been at war. Don’t you understand anything?”

      “Everything,” she said. “You can’t ask this of him. It’s not right.”

      “Right?” he cried. “You

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