“Well, now, you have nothing to worry about as far as food is concerned,” he beamed. “I made another stop on the way. Tonight, I prepare the dinner. I have a bottle of the best vodka — I know you won’t have any,” he added quickly, “but some for me and some for Natalya tomorrow since she’s managed to drink what I left last time — then I have smoked sturgeon and salmon and caviar, and”—he smiled, patting her hand—“some of that trout you used to enjoy so much—”
She interrupted him with a sad smile, placing her hand on top of his. “If I were the type who believed in prayer, I would thank whatever god I was praying to that Abe Danilov was my husband.” She raised her hands to his face and drew him to her, kissing him gently on the lips. She pulled away, almost as if she had been stung, for she realized how cold her own lips must feel to him. But he knew why she had drawn back. It wasn’t the first time. He leaned forward, this time holding her face in both hands, and kissed her tenderly.
“There, that’s more like a husband and wife should kiss,” he said, rising and holding out his hands. “Now, let me help you get up. If we’re going to have such a fine meal, you have to put on that new robe I bought you the last time. I’ll help you comb your hair, and you can fix up your face.”
In his last few visits, a ritual had evolved and Anna accepted it once she understood that he was not revolted by what she had become. There was no difference in his love. He treated her in the same manner, remembered the same personal quirks they both had laughed or complained about over the years. Whenever she claimed that a nurse should be helping her, Danilov’s reply was always the same: “I hope that if our lives had been reversed, if it was me who lay in that bed, that you would go to the vodka shop for me, and buy all the little treats I always loved, and hold my hand when I was in pain.” And Anna understood there was no effort in his love.
There was a small couch in the other room and he settled her there, wrapping a blanket around her legs. “Would you like me to lay out the fish now?”
“Not yet.” She shook her head, the mere thought of the food sending a shiver down her spine. She truly appreciated the gesture to serve her needs but she also knew that he needed some time. She could recognize the exhaustion in his eyes. “Pour yourself some of that good vodka and tell me what you will be doing next. Then we can dine.” She forced a smile.
Danilov had been prepared for her response. That, too, had been the same as before. He extracted the bottle from the small freezer that had been given to him because of his rank. He’d placed a snifter in the freezer at the same time and it became opaque on the outside when he set it on the table. Anna reached out slowly and with one finger etched a smile through the frost, exactly as she had done the last few times. He poured a few ounces in the glass and lifted it in her direction. “To you, my dear Anna… for your smile… and to us. I’ll be able to stay longer when I return from this trip.” He drained the glass, exhaling powerfully, feeling the frozen liquid burrowing down through his chest.
“How long?” She managed to hold traces of her smile but could feel it fading with that same old nagging fear… fear that she might not still be here when he returned.
“No more than ten days. Certainly no longer than that if everything goes right, and I have no reason to think it won’t.”
Her smile widened. She was sure she could last that long. There was no chance she would be as strong when he returned, but she wanted desperately to be waiting, just as she had each time in the past. Her excitement would bring a resurgence of strength whenever an officer would stop by to assure her that Admiral Danilov had called to tell her when she could expect him. Sometimes, they were old men who still revered the memory of her father, the general. Other times, there were younger naval officers who would go out of their way anytime for Admiral Danilov. They would stop by with a message, then stay to chat. Even one of the political officers, now an admiral himself, would stop by to visit her because he had once served under her husband.
Ten days! She could make it through ten more days! She had already written nine letters for him. While he slept that night, she would finish the tenth.
After three more glasses of vodka, he carefully laid out the foods he had selected. He placed the salmon, trout, caviar, and sturgeon neatly around a large platter to emphasize the colors and the textures, much as she had shown him so many years before. There were thin slices of the black bread made with cocoa that Anna treasured, and a variety of foreign crackers, and some cheeses radiating aromas that still managed to tickle her nose. Then he poured ice-cold champagne into crystal glasses. Anna remarked that she could have done no better herself.
He prepared a plate for her containing tastes of each of the delicacies and set it on her lap with a linen napkin so that she would not have to lean forward. Then he brought her glass to her, balancing it on a tray that he’d fashioned to hold firmly to the arm of the couch by her right hand. This all had become a ritual once she became too ill to venture outside.
As she nibbled halfheartedly at the food she once loved so much, occasionally sipping at the champagne, they talked of the past, the places they’d lived, friends, their children. Their only daughter, married to an engineer living in faraway Irkutsk, had not been back to visit her parents in two years. One son was also a submarine officer, stationed in Petropavlovsk on the Pacific coast. The other was a doctor who seemed to spend more time in special schools than his father thought necessary. The youngsters had their own lives to live and the Danilovs had decided not to trouble them yet. The two older people had been comfortable with themselves. But Abe Danilov had decided to send them each a message before he departed from Moscow. He could see in Anna’s eyes that it was necessary for them to return home for a final visit with their mother.
Later that evening when he saw her nodding, he said, “I need a few hours of sleep before I go. I think I’ll rest with you.” That, too, had become a ritual once she was unable to leave the apartment. He would change into some old pajamas and a bathrobe, and would climb into bed beside her. They would talk for a while, mostly about their absent children, and then they would sleep for a short time.
This night, Danilov fell asleep long before he intended. Anna remained awake with her pain. Besides, she had one more letter to write him. There had to be ten if he was to be away ten days. As he snored peacefully beside her, she slowly penned the tenth letter, the last one before he would return to her.
Abe Danilov was unable to sleep for long periods. Three hours later he was dressed in a fresh uniform, unaware that Anna had not slept. As soon as she finished her letter, she had been satisfied to cradle his head on her shoulder. Just to have him asleep beside her, she could almost forget the pain. He’d awoken in her grasp.
When he slipped his arms through the sleeves of his greatcoat, she said softly, “Take these with you.” She extended the packet tied with a red ribbon. “You said you would be gone for ten days, I have written you a letter for each of them. So, you see, you have to be back before the eleventh day.”
Danilov smiled. “All right. I see I have no choice. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself after the last one. I’ll be back in ten days, and we’ll dine again in the other room. The menu will be the same if that’s fine with you.” She nodded. “I’ll look forward to it.”