All These Things I've Done (23 page)

‘No,’ he said. ‘No, you’re the only one who wonders that. I like you because you are brave and far too substantial to ever be called sweet.’

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but nonetheless I felt my insides becoming warm and I knew I was probably flushed. I wanted to take off my sweater. I wanted to take off other things. I wanted to take things off him.

I wanted him.

I wanted him, but I couldn’t.

I got off of his lap. Though the kitchen was sweltering, I retied and tightened the belt of my boiled-wool cardigan. Then I pushed up my sleeves and went over to the sink. I began to wash out the pan I’d used to heat the milk. I must have used three times the amount of water that the job required, but I needed to steady myself.

He came up behind me and set his hand on my shoulder. I jumped, I was still so wound up. ‘Annie, what’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to go to Hell,’ I said.

‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘And I don’t want you to go there either.’

‘But lately, when I’m with you . . . I find myself rationalizing things. And we haven’t even known each other that long, Win.’

Win nodded. He took a dish towel that was hanging over the oven-door handle. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘I’ll dry that for you.’

I handed him the pan. Pan-less, I felt more vulnerable. I missed having a weapon.

‘Anya, I’m not going to lie. I’d really like to sleep with you. I think about it. The possibility of it, I mean. I think about the possibility of it fondly and often. But I’m not going to force you to do anything.’

‘It’s not you I’m worried about, Win! It’s me!’ It was embarrassing to talk about how much I feared losing control of myself when I was around him. I felt feral, savage, violent even, unlike myself. It disturbed me and shamed me. I hadn’t been to confession in months.

‘I’m not a virgin, Annie. Do you think that means I’m going to Hell?’ he asked.

‘No, it’s more complicated than that.’

‘Explain it, then.’

‘You’ll think it’s stupid. You’ll think I’m provincial, superstitious.’

‘No, I could never think that. I love you, Annie.’

I looked at him and though I wasn’t sure he really knew what love was – how could he? His life had been too easy – I decided that I trusted him. ‘When my father died, I made a deal with God that if He just kept all of us safe, I’d be good. I’d be better than good. I’d be pious. I’d honour Him. I’d be in control of myself and everything else.’

‘You are good, Annie. No one can say you haven’t been good,’ Win said. ‘You’re practically perfect.’

‘No, I’m so not perfect. I lose my temper all the time. I think bad thoughts about almost everyone I know. But I try my best. And I couldn’t say that any more, if . . .’

Win nodded. ‘I understand.’ He was still holding the dried pan, so he handed it to me. His smile was a bit lopsided. ‘I won’t let you sleep with me, no matter how much you’re begging me to,’ he joked.

‘Now you’re making fun of me.’

‘No, I’d never,’ Win said. ‘I take you and all things related to you very seriously.’

‘You’re not being serious now.’

‘I assure you, I’m being deathly serious. Go ahead and try to sleep with me right now. Do it. Even if you stripped down to nothing, I’d push you away like you were on fire.’ There was still mirth in his voice. ‘From now on, we’re in one of those old books. You can kiss me, but that’s it.’

‘I don’t think I like you right now,’ I said.

‘Good. Then the plan’s working.’

Win had to get home, so I walked him to the door.

I leaned over to kiss him, and he pulled back and offered me his hand. ‘Only on the hand from now on,’ he said.

‘You’re being extremely annoying.’

I kissed his hand and then he kissed mine. He pulled me close so that his lips were near my right ear. ‘You know how we could solve all this?’ he whispered. ‘We really could get married.’

‘Stop saying that! You sound absurd, and I don’t even think you mean it. Besides, I’d never marry you,’ I told him. ‘I’m sixteen, and you’re a slut, and you can’t stop saying preposterous things!’

‘True,’ he admitted. He kissed me on the lips and then I closed the door.

I arranged for Imogen to stay with Nana while the rest of us went to the wedding.

Win came to the house so we could all take the train together. Before we left, I asked him if he wouldn’t mind meeting my grandmother. Even though I was fairly over the moon about Win at that point in time, I was still self-conscious introducing people to Nana. Her behaviour was erratic to say the least and though my family was used to her appearance, she was more than a bit ghoulish (bedridden, mostly bald, bloodshot eyes, yellowish-green skin, rotten-smelling) to those who didn’t know her. I wasn’t embarrassed by her, but I felt protective of her. I didn’t want strange eyes on her. I warned Win what to expect before we went in.

I knocked on the door. ‘Come in, Anya,’ Imogen whispered. ‘She told me to wake her before you left. Wake up, Galina. It’s Annie.’

My grandmother woke. She coughed for a while and then Imogen slipped a straw into her mouth. I looked over at Win to see if he was repulsed by poor Nana, but his eyes betrayed nothing. They looked, if anything, as kind as usual, and slightly concerned.

‘Hi, Nana,’ I said. ‘We’re about to leave for the wedding.’

Nana nodded.

‘This is my boyfriend, Win,’ I said. ‘You said you wanted to meet him.’

‘Ah yes.’ Nana looked Win up and down. ‘I approve,’ she said finally. ‘I approve of your looks, I mean. I certainly hope there is more to you than your pretty face. This’ – she nodded towards me – ‘this one is a very good girl, and she deserves more than a pretty face.’

‘I agree,’ Win said. ‘Nice to meet you, too.’

‘Is that what you’re wearing to the wedding?’ Nana asked me.

I nodded. I had on a dark grey suit, which had been my mother’s. Win had brought me a white orchid, and I had pinned it to my lapel.

‘It’s a bit severe, but the cut flatters your figure. You look lovely, Anyaschka. I like the flower.’

‘Win gave it to me.’

‘Hmmph,’ she said. ‘OMG, the young man has taste.’ She turned her attention to Win. ‘Do you know what OMG stands for, young man?’

Win shook his head.

Nana looked at me. ‘Do you?’

Scarlet’s word. ‘Amazing or something,’ I replied. ‘I always meant to ask you.’

‘Oh my God,’ Nana said. ‘Life used to move much more quickly when I was a girl. We needed to abbreviate just to keep up.’

‘OMG,’ Win said.

‘Would you believe that I looked like Anya once upon a time?’

‘Yes,’ Win said. ‘I can see that.’

‘She was prettier,’ I said.

Nana told him to come closer, and Win obeyed. She whispered something in his ear, and Win nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘Have a good time, Anyaschka. Dance with your pretty boyfriend for me, and give everyone my best.’

I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. She grabbed my hand and said, ‘You have been a wonderful granddaughter. An honour to your parents. God sees everything, my darling. Even and maybe especially what the world does not. I wish that I could have been stronger for you. Always remember that you are powerful beyond measure. This power is your birthright. Your only birthright! Do you understand? I need to know that you understand!’

Her eyes were teary, so I told her that I did understand, though, in point of fact, I didn’t. Her speech seemed rambling and incoherent, and I assumed she was beginning another one of her less lucid periods. I didn’t want her to slap me in front of Win and Imogen. ‘I love you, Nana,’ I said.

‘I love you, too,’ she said, and then she started to cough. The coughs seemed more violent than usual, almost as if she were choking. ‘Go!’ she managed to yell.

Imogen massaged my grandmother’s chest with her palm, and Nana’s coughing subsided somewhat.

I asked Imogen if she needed my help.

‘We’re fine, Annie. Her lungs have been bothering her from the cold. It’s very ordinary for someone in your grandmother’s condition.’ Imogen continued to work on Nana’s chest.

‘Get out of here!’ Nana yelled between coughs.

I grabbed Win’s hand and we left.

I whispered to him, ‘I’m sorry. Sometimes she gets confused.’

Win said he understood and that there was no need to apologize. ‘She’s old.’

I nodded. ‘It’s hard to imagine ever being that age.’

Win asked what year she was born, and I told him 1995, that she’d be eighty-eight that spring. ‘Before the turn of the century,’ Win said. ‘Not many people that age left.’

I thought of Nana as a little girl and as a teenager and as a young woman. I wondered what type of clothes she wore, what books she read, what boys she liked. I doubt she thought she’d outlive her only biological son, that some day she’d be an old woman in a bed – powerless and confused and a little grotesque. ‘I don’t ever want to be that old,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ Win agreed. ‘Let’s stay young forever. Young, stupid and pretty. Sounds like a plan, don’t you think?’

The wedding was elaborate, as was typical of my family. Golden table linens, a band, and someone had even managed to obtain (read: bribe someone for) additional flower and meat vouchers for the occasion. The bride’s dress was too big through the waist, but her veil was intricately embroidered and even looked new. Her name was Sophia Bitter, and I knew nothing about her. In terms of looks, it’s mean to say, but she was remarkable only in her plainness. She had limp brown hair, a long horsey nose, and she couldn’t have been much older than me. When she said, ‘I do,’ it was with an accent of some kind. Her mother and sisters wept for the entire length of the ceremony.

Natty was seated at the kids’ table among our cousins. Leo was placed with several of his colleagues from the Pool and their wives and girlfriends. Win and I were at a table of loose ends – not a family table, not children, just people who didn’t fit in anywhere else.

Win went to get drinks, and since my shoes were my mother’s and thus a size and a half too tight for my freakish size ten feet, I decided to stay behind. A man across the table from me waved, and I waved back, though I wasn’t sure who he was. He was Asian and in his twenties. He was probably a member of another chocolate family.

He walked around the table and sat next to me. He was very handsome, with longish black hair that kept falling into his eyes. He spoke English with a bit of a British accent though he wasn’t British. ‘You don’t remember me, do you? I met you and your sister when you were children. Your father had a meeting with my father at our country house in Kyoto. I showed you our gardens. You liked my cat.’

‘Snowball,’ I said. ‘And you are Yuji Ono. Of course I remember you.’ Yuji shook my hand. He was missing the pinkie on his right hand, but the rest of his fingers were long and extremely cold. ‘Your hands are like ice.’

‘You know what they say. Cold hands. Warm heart,’ Yuji said. ‘Or is it the reverse?’

The summer before I turned nine, the summer before Daddy died, he had taken us with him on business to Japan. (This was before international travel had become so difficult because of both cost and worries about disease.) Daddy very much believed in the benefits of travel for young people, and he also hadn’t wanted to leave us alone after my mother’s murder. One of the people we visited was Yuji Ono’s father, who was the head of the Ono Sweets Company and the most powerful chocolate dealer in Asia. Incidentally, I had had a huge crush on Yuji Ono though he was seven years older than me. Fifteen at the time; now, I suppose, twenty-three.

‘How is your father?’ I asked.

‘He passed away.’ Yuji lowered his eyes.

‘I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.’

‘Yes. It was very tragic, though he wasn’t murdered like yours. Brain cancer,’ Yuji said. ‘It seems you don’t follow these things, Anya, so I’ll tell you. I am the head of Ono Sweets now.’

‘Congratulations,’ I said, though I wasn’t at all sure if this was the right thing to say.

‘Yes, it was much for me to learn in a very short time. But I was luckier than you. My father was still alive to teach me.’ Yuji smiled at me. He had a sweet smile. There was the slightest gap between his front two teeth, and it made him look more boyish than he was.

‘You came a long way for a Balanchine family wedding,’ I observed.

‘I had other business, and I am a friend of the bride as well,’ he said, and then he changed the subject. ‘Dance with me, Anya.’

I looked over to the drinks line – Win was about halfway through. ‘I’m here with someone,’ I said.

Yuji laughed. ‘No, I didn’t mean that way. I’m practically married myself, and you’re far too young for me. Forgive me, but I still see you as the little girl you were, and I feel almost paternal towards you, I suppose. I think my father would want me to dance with you. Your boyfriend can’t possibly object to old friends like me.’ He offered me his hand, and I took it.

The band was playing a slow number. Though I didn’t feel in the least romantic towards him, dancing with Yuji was no hardship either. He was a good dancer and I told him so. He said that his father had made him take lessons when he was a kid. ‘When I was a child, it seemed an incredible waste of time,’ he said, ‘but now I’m glad for the skill.’

‘You mean because women like it?’ I asked.

A tap on my shoulder. I expected Win, but it was my cousin Jacks. ‘Do you mind if I cut in?’ he asked Yuji.

‘It’s up to Anya,’ Yuji replied.

Jacks was flushed and his eyes were overly bright. I very much hoped he wasn’t drunk. Still, I decided to consent because it seemed that if I didn’t my cousin would make a scene. ‘Yes, it’s fine,’ I said.

Jacks took my hand, and Yuji left. His palm was damp and a bit greasy even. ‘Do you know who you were dancing with?’ Jacks asked me.

‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘Yuji Ono. I’ve known him for years.’

‘Well, then, do you know what they’re saying about him?’ Jacks asked me.

I shrugged.

‘There are people who think he’s the one who orchestrated the contamination of the Balanchine chocolate supply.’

I considered this. ‘What would be his interest in doing that?’

Jacks rolled his eyes. ‘You’re a smart girl, Anya. Figure it out.’