I have to find my brother because the war is over, but I still don’t feel safe. I don’t think he is, either.
I didn’t think any of you would be back. That’s what Mrs. Wójcik said. But she didn’t say it with gratitude in her voice. She didn’t mean it like, I am so relieved to see you. Her voice didn’t sound happy. Her voice sounded disappointed. What she meant was, I thought they killed you all.
DIMA IS TRIUMPHANT WHEN HE KNOCKS ON THE DOOR A few minutes later. Through the crack made by the latched chain, he holds up a paper parcel. “Lunch,” he says. “Sausages.”
I unlock the door but am at a loss once he’s inside. “I don’t have any fuel for the stove, though.”
“Cooked already!”
Now I can see oil leaking through the paper, and it makes my mouth water. “I don’t have anything to put them on, either,” I apologize. I meant, I don’t have a table, but as soon as I say the words, I realize I don’t even have dishes.
Dima reaches into his coat and pulls out a cloth wrapped around something bulky. “Plates. Picnic.” Another bundle: “Potatoes.”
Having emptied his pockets, he looks around the big parlor, curious but polite. “This is your home?”
“It looked different when I lived here. The furniture is gone.”
“Today we sit on the floor. Tomorrow I find you some furniture.”
He raises his eyebrows in the direction of the dining room, visible through French doors, and I nod that this is where we should eat. Once there, he confidently settles onto his knees, opens the parcel, and begins to slice the sausages with a pocketknife.
“My commander says he comes for dinner?” Dima says after I’ve sunk to my own knees and accepted the plate. “He would like to meet, learn more about the city.”
“That’s fine.”
“I told him he can come tonight.”
“Tonight?” I protest. “There’s no food in the house. It’s my first day back.”
“I know the notice is short.” Dima looks at me with saucer eyes, and I bite my tongue. It’s my home, but I wouldn’t be here yet if it weren’t for Dima’s help, I remind myself.
The nothing-girls were only half right. They thought it was lucky that Dima rescued me and then grew to like me. But really it was that Dima grew to care for me because he rescued me. Because I was helpless and he could help me. Because he was lonely and I needed him. This entire time, he’s been nothing but a friend; he’s asked for nothing in return for his kindness. And I haven’t offered anything.
It can’t stay that way, though. Sooner or later, my frailty won’t be appealing, my gratitude enough to make him happy. He’ll want an actual partner.
“Your brother—” Dima pauses and looks down at his plate, keeps his eyes there while he finishes the question. “He is not here today?”
Three potatoes in a row on damp newsprint. Dima bought three potatoes, just in case.
I swallow my disappointment. “No.”
“He was here before?”
“I don’t think so.”
He reached out to stroke my cheek. “We will find him, I’m sure.”
“Yes,” I say, setting my metal plate down on the bare wood floor. Smiling. I’m trying, I’m trying so hard.
Here I am, back in my family’s home, but instead of china, I’m eating on camping tin, and instead of my family, I’m with a Russian soldier. And he wants me to talk about dinner parties. Eight months ago I slapped a girl across the face because she tried to take my holey shoes.
“Zofia?” He says my name kindly but not quite right; the Z is too firm. “Zofia, you’re not talking. I upset you.”
“I think we should have bread with lunch.” Abruptly, I rise to my feet.
He’s stricken. “It is not needed,” he insists, nodding to where he’s split Abek’s potato between his and my plates.
“But, it’s a celebration,” I invent. “My first day back in this house.”
“I will come, too.” He sets the knife down, starts to rise awkwardly himself.
“No! No. I’ll go to the bakery around the corner and be back in a few minutes.”
Still, he’s concerned; he thinks I shouldn’t be wandering. “I can see if there are cakes to serve your commander tonight,” I continue to improvise, waving him back to the floor. “And it will be good for my health. To do things on my own in a familiar place. The nurse said.”