pond and stood some distance away, shaking himself and shivering frightfully. “He’s harmless,” said the man. He seized his dog by the collar and led the beast into the sunlight.
For no particular reason, Anna felt a sudden urge to make some sort of impression on her husband, the powerful man with the absent smile who’d come back to her, despite everything the past year had brought them. After making sure she’d brought a towel, she removed her jacket and sweater. “If a dog can do it, so can we,” she cried out. She kicked off her boots, dropped her pants, and snatched off her shirt, and in an instant she was up to her thighs in the water.
“It can’t be more than forty degrees in there!” Leonid yelled. Squealing for joy at the sight of his daredevil mother, Petya became so excited that his father had to make restraining the boy his first priority. The cold took Anna’s breath away. So as not to lose her resolve, she leaped forward and disappeared into the brackish water. When she surfaced, she heard applause coming from the opposite bank, where passersby had stopped to watch. She paddled around in a circle, remembered the ice diver she’d seen in the Moscow River, and ended her swim as quickly as she could. As far as Petya was concerned, her ploy was a total success; he was thrilled by her exploit and described it as though no one had seen it but him. Shaking his head, Leonid held out the towel and rubbed Anna’s shoulders.
“Now you need to swallow something hot,” he said as Anna was fastening her jacket. Her teeth were chattering.
“There’s only one place where we …” She clamped her shivering jaw shut and pointed in the desired direction.
They entered a gloomy establishment, whose proprietress looked as though Sunday walkers, like everything that had to do with the advent of spring, disgusted her. The menu was limited to red beet soup and bread with cheese. While they refreshed themselves and Anna warmed up, her impatience to learn Leonid’s news grew. Eating made Petya sleepy, and when they went outside, Leonid had to carry him. They walked a short distance into the woods. In a clearing, Anna spread out the indestructible blanket that had served her and Leonid well the very first time they’d engaged in amorous play together, years before. The grass was still brown but dry. The sun glinted between bare birches and lit up the little hairs in Leonid’s ears. He took off his scarf and opened his jacket and shirt. When he turned his head, Anna noticed the powerful tendons in his neck and realized how suntanned his face and chest were. Petya fell asleep at once. Anna propped herself on her elbows, breathed in the fresh air, and squinted at her husband.
“Did you miss me?” It sounded vain; she’d only wanted to say something that would show him how welcome he was. “I wish you didn’t have to go back.”
“Well, at least we have six days together,” he said, keeping his face turned toward the sun.
His answer disappointed her. “Your year’s just about over,” she said softly. “We’ve made it through, you and I. Now everything’s going to be normal again.”
Her face looked relaxed, but one of her fists was clutching the blanket. He picked up a dead twig, broke it in half, and cleaned his teeth with it. “Normal?” His chest expanded, as though he wanted to go on talking, but no sound came from his moving lips. He poked at his gums until the twig was red with his blood. “Isn’t everything normal?”
“We live six thousand miles apart.” Anna leaned against his back. “Petya needs you.” He froze, letting her know she’d chosen the wrong bait.
“I’ll always be there for Petya.” He looked over his shoulder to see if the boy was really asleep. Anna had brought up the unresolved issue, the question that Galina, too, had asked him again and again. How could a man be a father to his child if there was so much distance between them? Galina had been married before, but without children; because of her transfer to Sakhalin, her divorce had gone through without a hitch. It had been years, she said, since she’d wished for children; given her unpredictable profession, she probably wasn’t cut out to perform very well as a mother, anyway. As for Leonid’s performance as a father, he’d left his son in the hands of the boy’s