“Holy John Chrysostom said one must avoid . . .” Anna began.
“What he said was one must
“And that’s what I’m trying to do. If you want to . . . be intimate . . . with a man not your husband, that’s between you, God, and Evgeny.”
“Between me and God, certainly. It’s none of Evgeny’s business.”
“Evgeny’s your husband.”
“
“He is still your husband,” Anna insisted.
“No, he’s not. I left his bed four years ago.”
“You can’t break the covenant.”
“I did. And you know that the Holy John Chrysostom wrote that it’s ‘better to break the covenant than to lose one’s soul.’ ”
“That’s between you and the Lord.”
“Yes, it is. And as far as my Charley is concerned, I’ll go with what Saint Paul said in First Corinthians.”
“That’s up to you.”
“I’m a little rusty about First Corinthians,” Castillo said. “What exactly did Saint Paul say?”
Anna looked uncomfortable. Svetlana blushed.
“Well?” Castillo pursued.
“Why not? You know anyway. ‘If they cannot control themselves, they should marry.’ The moment I saw you on the train, I knew I was through controlling myself.”
“Saint Paul said that about the unmarried and widows,” Anna said.
“I told you, I broke the covenant; I’m not married,” Svetlana said. “And when I first saw my Charley, I had been controlling myself for four long, long years. You try that sometime, Anna.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” Anna said.
“Well, at least it’s out in the open,” Svetlana said.
“All I’m asking is that you try to . . . behave appropriately in front of the children. Especially Elena. She remembers Evgeny.”
“The last time she saw Evgeny she was practically in diapers. She wouldn’t know him if he walked in the door right now.”
“Breakfast will be in half an hour,” Anna said. “And after that, we’re going to decorate the Novogodnaya Yolka.” She looked at Castillo, said, “Thank you for understanding, Friend Charley,” and walked out the door.
Svetlana waited until it was closed, then got quickly out of bed, went to the door, made sure it was locked, and then got back in bed.
She put her hand on the bodily appendage peculiar to his gender and gave it an affectionate squeeze to which it immediately responded.
“Are you happy, my Charley, that I cannot control myself?”
Before his mind moved almost immediately afterward to other thoughts of a more erotic nature, Castillo had time to think,
[TWO]
“Forgive me for starting my breakfast without waiting for you,” Aleksandr Pevsner said absolutely insincerely. “I hope you slept well?”
“Better than I have in years,” Svetlana said as she took one of the chairs. Then she asked, “What in the world is that you’re eating?”
“American pancakes,” Pevsner said. “I thought it would be nice for Charley and Corporal Bradley. They get the sauce by bleeding a tree.”
“What?”
“Tell her, you Americans.”
“It’s maple syrup, Colonel,” Bradley explained. “A tap is driven into maple trees, which are common in the northern United States. And, of course, in Canada. Possibly in other similar climates, but I just don’t know. When there are below-freezing nighttime temperatures followed by daytime temperatures above freezing, the sap of the tree drips from the tap into a container. It is collected, then boiled until the desired consistency is reached.”
“And now you know,” Castillo said. “Thank you, Bradley.”
“You’re quite welcome, sir. Was the explanation sufficient, Colonel?”
“Yes, it was,” Svetlana said. She turned to a maid and said, in Spanish, “Please bring me black coffee and a pastry of some kind. A croissant would be nice.”
“Oh, try a pancake with tree sauce,” Castillo said. “Live dangerously.”
“I thought I was,” she said. “But all right. Bring me one, please, a small one.”
Castillo smiled at Elena, who was cuddling the puppy.
“And how did it go with Nameless, sweetheart?”
“Well, he wouldn’t stop crying until I took him into bed with me,” she said. “Then he was all right. When I woke up this morning, Max was in there with us and he wouldn’t let the maid in the room.”
“That animal was in bed with you?” her father asked incredulously.
“And he wouldn’t let Delores come into the room until I screamed at him,” she said. “And the puppy’s not nameless anymore. He’s Ivan.”
“Why Ivan?” her mother asked.
“Well, the first thing he did when I took him to my room was wee-wee on the floor. So I took him outside so he could do his business, and brought him back, and the first thing he did when I put him on my lap was . . . you know. So I told him ‘you’re terrible’ and there it was: ‘Ivan the Terrible.’ ”
“That seems to fit,” Castillo said.
“Right after our breakfast, we’re going to decorate the Novogodnaya Yolka,” Anna said quickly. “Do you know what that is, Charley?”
“No, but I’ll bet Lester does,” Castillo said, and gestured to Bradley.
“My understanding, Colonel,” Bradley began, “is that the Novogodnaya Yolka is sort of the Russian version of our Christmas tree but is symbolic of the New Year rather than of Christmas. It is topped by a star, and decorated with candy and small pastries. Father Frost, sort of a Russian Santa Claus, and his daughter—”
“Granddaughter,” Pevsner interrupted. “Ded Moroz’s
“Thank you for the amplification, sir,” Bradley said. “I didn’t know that. Please feel free to correct me at any time.”
“You are doing very well, Corporal,” Anna said. “Please go on. My husband will not rudely interrupt you again.”
Bradley acknowledged that with a nod and went on: “Father Frost and the Snow Girl bring in presents for the good children and leave them under the Novogodnaya Yolka. More or less a variation of presents left under the Christmas tree. That is about the sum of my knowledge, sir.”
“Thank you, Lester,” Castillo said.
“You’re very welcome, sir.”
“And since I have been a very good girl for years and years,” Svetlana said, looking directly at Anna, “and Ded Moroz and Snegurochka knew how very, very hard that was for me, they brought me my present early. Last night.”
Castillo realized he was being groped under the table.
“What was it, Aunty Svet?” Elena asked.
“I promised not to tell; if other girls knew what it is, they’d be jealous. Something I really needed. I’ll have to take very good care of it.”
