“She doesn’t seem to mind it.”
Halina tiptoes to the kitchen as Mila begins arranging the table for dinner. Even though their meals aren’t what they used to be, Nechuma still insists that they use their silver and chinaware. “What does Felicia do while you’re sewing all day?” she calls.
“She plays beneath my worktable, mostly. She naps in a basket of fabric scraps. She’s been incredibly patient,” Mila adds. The cheerfulness has evaporated from her voice.
Bent over the kitchen sink, Halina runs water over her hands and arms, imagining her eleven-month-old niece playing beneath a table for hours on end. She wishes there were something she could do to help. “Nothing from Selim today?” she asks.
“No.”
Water splashes against the sink’s metal basin, and Halina is quiet for a moment. Genek, Jakob, and Adam have all written to share their new addresses in Lvov, to check in. In their letters, they say that they haven’t seen Selim since the Soviets took over. Halina’s heart breaks for her sister. It must be impossible not knowing where her husband is, if he’s even alive. She’s tried a few times to console Mila with her own outlook—which is that no news is better than bad news—but even she knows that Selim’s disappearance can’t be a good thing.
In his last letter, Adam had confirmed what they’d read in the Tribune and in the Radomer Leben—the papers were their only source of news now, as their radios had been confiscated—that the Polish Army in Lvov had disbanded, and the Germans had pulled out, leaving the city in the hands of the Red Army. Not terrible, was how Adam described living under the Soviets. There was plenty of work to be had, he said. He’d found a job, in fact. The pay was pitiful, but it was a job. He could find Halina one, too. And he had news—something he had to share with her in person. He signed his letter With love, and added a postscript: I think you should come to Lvov.
Despite her apprehension of living under Soviet rule, the idea of moving to Lvov thrills Halina. She misses Adam deeply—his calm, reassuring way, his gentle, confident touch, the touch that made her realize that the boys she’d dated before him were utterly inept compared with the man that he is. She’d do anything to be with him again. Halina wonders whether his news might be a proposal. She’s twenty-two, he thirty-two. They’ve been together long enough; marriage seems the logical next step. She thinks about it often, her heart flooding at the idea of him asking for her hand and then wringing itself dry as she realizes that to be with Adam would mean leaving Radom. No matter how she spins it, it doesn’t feel right to abandon her parents. With Jakob and Genek in Lvov, who else would watch out for them? Mila has Felicia to tend to, and Addy is still stuck in France—in his last letter he said he’d received orders to enlist, that in November he would be joining the army. And so that leaves only her. And anyway, even if she could justify going to Lvov for just a short while with the intention of returning, the trip itself would be nearly impossible, as the latest of the Nazi decrees has robbed her of the right to leave her home or ride the train without a special pass. For now, she has no choice. She will stay put.
A lock rattles and Sol’s voice echoes a moment later through the apartment as he calls for his granddaughter.
“Where is my peach?”
Felicia grins and pushes herself to a wobbly stand, toddling down the hallway from the dining room, her arms extended in front of her like little magnets, pulling her to her dziadek’s arms. Halina and Mila follow behind. Felicia laughs as Sol scoops her up, growling playfully, nibbling on her shoulder until her giggles turn to squeals. Nechuma appears behind him, and Halina and Mila greet their parents, exchanging kisses.
“Oh my,” Nechuma breathes, staring at Halina’s clothes. “What happened?”
“I’ve been harvesting. Have you ever seen me this vile?”
Nechuma studies her youngest child, shakes her head. “Never.”
“And you? The cafeteria?” Halina asks, hanging up her mother’s coat.
Nechuma holds up her thumb, wrapped in a bloodstained bandage. “Aside from this, it was a bore.”
“Mother!” Halina reaches for Nechuma’s hand so she can take a closer look.
“I’m fine. If the Germans would give us decent knives I wouldn’t cut myself so often. But you know what? A little blood in their kartoflanka won’t kill anyone.” She smiles, pleased at her secret.
“You should be more careful,” Halina scolds.
Nechuma pulls her hand away and ignores the comment. “I have a treat for us,” she says, extracting a handkerchief filled with a handful of potato peelings from under her blouse. “Just a few,” she says, when she sees Halina’s eyebrows jump. “I’ve peeled them thick. Look, we’ve got nearly half a potato here.”
Halina stares. “You stole them? From the cafeteria?”
“No one saw me.”
“But what if they had?” Halina’s tone is harsh, probably too harsh. It’s not like her to speak like that to her mother and she knows she should apologize, but she doesn’t. It was one thing for Mila to sneak an infant into her workplace—she has no alternative but to do so—but another for her mother to steal from the Germans and then shrug it off.
The room is silent. Halina, Mila, and their parents all look at one another, their gazes forming a square. Finally, Mila speaks. “It’s okay, Halina, we need it. Felicia is a skeleton, look at her. Mother, thank you. Come, let’s make soup.”
CHAPTER NINE
Jakob and Bella
Lvov, Soviet-Occupied Poland ~ October 24, 1939
Bella steps carefully so as not to clip the backs of Anna’s heels. The sisters move slowly, deliberately, talking in whispers. It’s nine in the evening, and the streets are empty. There isn’t a curfew in Lvov as there is in Radom, but the blackout is still in effect, and with the street lamps extinguished, it’s nearly impossible to see.
“I can’t believe we didn’t bring a flashlight,” Bella whispers.
“I walked the route earlier today,” Anna says. “Just stay close, I know where I’m going.”
Bella smiles. Slinking through backstreets in the pale blue light of the moon reminds her of the nights she and Jakob used to tiptoe at two in the morning from their apartments to make love in the park under the chestnut trees.
“It’s just here,” Anna whispers.
They climb a small flight of stairs, entering the house through a side door. Inside, it’s even darker than it is on the street.
“Stay here for a moment while I light a match,” Anna says, rummaging through her handbag.
“Yes, ma’am,” Bella says, laughing. All her life it’s been she who bosses Anna about, not the other way around. Anna is the baby, the family’s sweetheart. But Bella knows that behind the pretty face and quiet fa?ade, her sister is whip smart, capable of anything she sets her mind to.
Despite being two years younger, Anna was the first to marry. She and her husband, Daniel, live just down the street from Bella and Jakob in Lvov—a circumstance that has softened Bella’s pain at leaving her parents behind. The sisters see each other often and talk frequently about how to convince their parents to make the move to Lvov. But in her letters, Gustava insists that she and Henry are getting by on their own in Radom. Your father’s dentistry is still bringing a bit of income, she wrote in her last correspondence. He’s been treating the Germans. It doesn’t make sense for us to move, not yet at least. Just promise to visit when you can, and to write often.