Feride turned and caught Huseyin looking at her, and before he could look away, she winked at him inexpertly and stretched out her arms.
100
Marta and Gosdan’s wedding was held at Father Zadian’s church late that spring. Vera ground out the cigarette beneath her shoe and entered the cool dimness of the church. All of Kurtulush seemed to be there. Gosdan stood beaming by the altar. Roses spilled from every vase, scenting the air.
Marta wore a white lace gown with a long veil that covered her face and billowed behind her. Vera thought she saw Marta nod in her direction as she passed. The bride held a bouquet of white roses, and when Gosdan lifted the veil, Vera saw a young, vibrant woman whom she barely recognized as the rectory housekeeper. They placed crowns on each other’s heads and drank wine from the same goblet.
Father Zadian blessed them, “Christ protect them under the shadow of thy holy and honorable cross in peace.” Guests tossed rose petals over the new couple as they swept from the church down the street toward the taverna where they were to have their wedding meal.
As Vera stepped out of the church into the light, she felt faint. Gabriel’s dying face interposed with that of Victor. She thought of Siranoush Ana’s corpse clinging to her daughter’s back. Vera’s heart began to race, trying to outrun all the horror it had witnessed.
She sat down on the steps of the church and began to cry. She was crying for them all, for herself, for the rage that now resided within her. When Vera looked up, she saw Marta hastening toward her, the veil billowing in the breeze so that she seemed a marvelous, iridescent creature.
This is what I will cling to, Vera promised herself, when I’m in Tiflis with Apollo.
101
Kamil watched Elif put down a dish of food for the kittens that stalked about the gardens of the yali. Knots of them lay in every sunny spot, their fur a tapestry of shade and light. Elif had put on some weight, and Kamil appreciated her shape as she bent over. He went to her, laid his hand around her waist, and pulled her to him. She unbent slowly in his arms. There was always the initial resistance, then he felt her relax. We’ve learned the way there, Kamil thought, his chest tight with compassion. If only we didn’t have to walk the same stretch every time. Time, he scolded himself. She needs time.
Arms around each other, they wandered through the garden to the door that led into Kamil’s part of the house. He felt Elif tense, then soften as they crossed the threshold. When they entered his bedroom, they drifted apart. He locked the door and drew the curtains. By the time he turned around, she had slipped off her pants and tunic and was already under the duvet in Kamil’s bed. He wanted to see her body, but she had never again allowed it after the first time. He slid beneath the covers, reaching for her pliant warmth, then dived into the darkness that held her secrets.
When he woke, Elif was still in his arms, breathing evenly. In the shadowy room, he could see that her eyes were open. “Elif,” he whispered against her head, his heart beating hard with trepidation at what he was about to do.
“Yes?”
“Have you reconsidered about marriage?” Kamil was furious with himself at this awkward start. “I mean, would you consider marrying me?”
When Elif didn’t answer, Kamil began to despair. She had refused him the previous year. What made him think that just because she had given her body, she would now be willing to tie herself to him? He drew away. His hands were slick with sweat.
Elif turned so that their faces were almost touching. He couldn’t see her expression. “Will you take me as I am? Half a woman?” Her voice was gravelly with emotion.
“What do you mean?” Kamil exclaimed. “You’re not half of anything. In fact, you’re more of everything than most women are.” He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but he believed it, and it seemed to satisfy Elif.
“Then we should try it.”
Kamil was grateful for the dark that hid his tears of relief. They remained silent for a long time, entwined like the kittens. The enormity of what he had just done expanded in the room about him. Soon he would have to tell Feride. Arrangements would have to be made. Elif would need her own studio, apart from his precious winter garden. The sitting room by the garden had good light and could be adapted. He should tell Yakup to hire workmen. He lay on his back, eyes wide open, increasingly anxious, assailed by the consequences of his proposal.
102
The following day, Yorg Pasha arrived at the yali in a gaily decorated caïque rowed by eight men. They showed the pasha around the house and garden, and then, over a festive luncheon on the shaded terrace, Kamil took Elif’s hand and announced their engagement, aware that the words were irrevocable and glad of it.
The twins squealed with delight and then ran into the garden. As he listened to the assembled group-Feride and Huseyin, Yorg Pasha, Sister Hildegard, and Doctor Moreno-cheer and call out congratulations, Kamil felt relieved. He no longer had to worry about whether it was the right decision or not. He had found over these past few months that the calculus that decided whether or not decisions were right was unreliable and predicted nothing. What was precious and right was life and the joy one was able to give to others as well as partake in oneself. He leaned over and kissed Elif on the cheek. Just then Alev and Yasemin returned with fistfuls of flower petals that they strewed over the couple. Kamil laughed and hugged the girls. Then he walked to where Feride was sitting and, leaning over, cupped her head in his hand and kissed her forehead, letting his thumb linger like a benediction.
He saw Huseyin’s smile, the happiness and pride in his eyes when he looked at Feride, and he was glad that his sister and brother-in-law had reconciled and recovered whatever had been lost between them after the accident. Feride was radiant. She had spent the afternoon closeted with Doctor Moreno, Sister Hildegard, the family accountant, and an architect, drawing up plans for the renovation of the Eyüp Mosque hospital and discussing the seed money needed to draw donations to build a children’s hospital in Galata on the site of Sister Hildegard’s infirmary. The property for the hospital, Sister Hildegard explained over lunch, had been donated by the Austrian Embassy. Feride planned to ask the wealthy women in her circle for donations to construct the building. Once the hospital was built, the embassy would maintain it.
Elif spoke little, but Kamil could tell that it soothed her to sit at the center of her new and unexpected family.
After luncheon was finished, Yorg Pasha motioned Kamil over to a carpet spread under a blooming Stewartia tree. Kamil helped Yorg Pasha sit and arranged the cushions behind him. Yakup handed them tiny china cups of coffee, then withdrew.
Yorg Pasha took a sip. “We haven’t found him,” he announced. “His mother has been no help.”
Kamil wished he had stopped Vahid in Huseyin’s office. What had tipped him off? Kamil had gone through the conversation in his mind a hundred times but could find nothing. “You said Vahid’s mother is blind. Who’s looking after her?”