Reunited After 25 Years 14

That night, Andrea dreamed of the long-ago day that the submarine carrying Anton had come to her island home. In her dream she and Anton had still been on the beach when the submarine had finally departed and Anton had missed it.

"I guess that means you'll have to stay here then," Andrea told him. She didn't realize that she'd spoken aloud until she opened her eyes and saw Anton laughing.

"But I want to stay here," he said.

"It was just a dream I had," Andrea said, somewhat embarrassed.

"What did you dream?"

Andrea sighed. "I dreamed that you were able to stay the first time you came."

"That would have been nice." Anton smiled and kissed her nose. "But what we have now is nice as well, is it not? It means even more to us, since we had to wait so long for it."

"I hadn't really thought about it, but you're right." Andrea smiled. "How do you say 'I love you' in Russian?"

"Ya tibya lyublyu."

"Ya tibya lyublyu, Anton." Andrea stumbled over the pronunciation of the last word of the phrase.

"Ya tibya lyublyu, Andrea." Anton hugged her tightly and kissed her. "Very much."

One weekend Andrea's parents invited Andrea and Anton over for dinner. They hadn't met Anton the first time he'd come to Gloucester, but they knew how much he'd meant to Andrea and how much she'd missed him after he'd had to go back home. They invited Denny too, of course, but he told Andrea he had something special planned with Darya that night.

Anton was obviously nervous when Andrea picked him up.

"I hope very much that they will like me," he said.

"Of course they will," Andrea assured him. "How can they help it?"

Andrea pulled into the driveway and parked, and she and Anton walked to the front porch holding hands.

Andrea's mother, Jewel, opened the door for them. She was about Andrea's height and plump, with her gray hair pulled back into a bun and friendly blue eyes.

"Come on in," she said warmly. "Make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

Andrea's father, Alan, sat in a recliner, reading. He was tall, slender, and partially bald.

"So you're Andrea's Russian friend," he said. "Anton, right?"

"Right."

"Were you named for Anton Chekhov?"

"Oh, no." Alexei chuckled. "I was named for my father's younger brother. He was only twelve years old when he died. He worked in a factory, carrying hods full of bricks up ladders. The ladders were too close together, and the hods were falling apart, but no one dared say anything for fear of being sent to a gulag in Siberia. Anyway, one day a hod broke, and many bricks fell on my uncle, broke his back and killed him. Twelve years old."

"My God, that's terrible!" Alan said. "I'm so sorry!"

"It was during the earlier years of Stalin, before the war," said Anton. "In that time, individual lives mattered nothing at all in the name of progress. After that came the war. My father fought in the Battle of Stalingrad, where he saw much suffering and death. He never got over it, just like Andrea's friend with no legs."

"Dennis' friend Marty," Andrea explained. "I think I told you about him."

"Oh, yes, I remember Marty," said Jewel. "Very, very sad."

"It was just like that for my papa," Anton continued. "After the war he always drank too much. Finally his liver failed and he died."

"That's such a shame," said Alan. "I was in that same war."

"I know. Andrea told me."

After dinner Andrea helped Jewel with the dishes while Alan and Anton talked some more in the living room.

"Your friend seems so nice," Jewel commented. "I'd wondered whether for you it was just the novelty of the thing, or perhaps a form of rebellion, but after seeing you two together, I can tell that you really care for him."

"He is nice, and I do really care for him," said Andrea. "Russians are people just like us, Mom. That's what I've been trying to tell you for years."

"They don't believe in God," said Jewel. "And they brainwash people, don't they?"

"If that's true, Anton can't help it," said Andrea.

"I know he can't," her mother replied. "I don't hold it against him at all. In fact, I feel sorry for him."

"There's no need to," said Andrea. "He's planning to stay in the United States and become a legal resident."

"That's good," said Jewel. "Maybe after awhile he can even become a citizen."

Several hours later it was near dusk and Andrea and Anton were on their way home.

"I have good news, Andrea," said Anton. "I told your father the situation about the lawyer, and he loaned me the money I need."

"That's great!" Andrea felt happier than she had in a long time. "So you don't have to go back home after all, then."

"Right." Anton grinned and patted Andrea's knee. "Now I never have to leave you again."

They were half way home when the car broke down.