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He kissed her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mama," he said and took the stairs two at a time.
He went directly to his dresser. Just to see, he told himself. Just to put to rest the absurd idea that his Lana had anything to do with The c.o.c.kroach. But as he stood before the dresser, staring at the empty statue of the Virgin, he thought of the odd thing Svetlana had said about The Baseball-that it had brought them together. What could she possibly have meant by that, unless...?
He hoped he would dream of her tonight. It would be the first thing he would ask her.
oOo He didn't dream of Svetlana-at least not at first. He dreamed of all the other girls who, in recent memory, had baked for him, or invited him over for dinner, or helped him with his homework, or offered to mend his s.h.i.+rts, or asked him to play clarinet at their brother's bar mitzvah or Confirmation.
In his dream, they stood about him and argued as to which one of them he would marry, while his mother and grandmother and their earnest lady friends stood just outside the circle of girls and urged him on, saying, "Ganady, please! Choose! Choose!"
But he had chosen, he realized. He had chosen Svetlana. Two years before, he had chosen-the first night she had appeared in his dreams and spoken to him.
"That's very sweet."
He was suddenly alone with her, standing on a sun-bathed home plate in Connie Mack Stadium. Clouds scudded overhead and the wind came briskly up from the river and he could smell popcorn in the air.
"It was love at first sight for me, too," she told him.
And which sight was that? he wanted to ask, but did not. Instead, he toed the bag and said, "My brother and my best friend are getting married at Christmas. Yevgeny-he's my best friend-"
"I know who Yevgeny is," she said, dimpling.
"Yevgeny was joking about having a triple wedding."
"Why joking? Don't they believe you have a girl?"
"Well...I'm not sure. Do I...have a girl?"
She gave him a most severe look then, making him wonder what her mother-the much-praised Stella/Rodenka Gusalev-looked like. "Ganady Puzdrovsky, am I to now find that you are one of those fickle boys who strings along a whole gaggle of girls?"
"Honestly, Lana, I didn't mean to string anyone along. But they will bake me cookies, and come to my house and stare at me, and follow me with their eyes in the halls at school."
But she was laughing at him, her sea-green eyes alight. "What are you trying to ask me, Ganady? Are you trying to ask me something?"
In that moment, Ganady felt as if he had changed in some indefinable way. He did not consider the circ.u.mstances under which he stood at home plate with Svetlana Gusalev, but only that he did stand there, if only in a dream. He took her by the hand and stepped off home plate toward the pitcher's mound.
"I've asked you a question at every base," he said. "Now I will ask you a question from the heart of the diamond."
He stepped up onto the mound, drawing her after him, and it seemed that as he did, he took a final step from childhood into manhood. He felt different. He wondered if he looked different.
He gazed down at her, his hands on her slender shoulders, and said, "Svetlana Gusalev, will you marry me?" And what he meant, of course, was: Can you marry me?
She smiled at him in the sunlight, making it dance in her eyes and s.h.i.+mmer through her hair. She didn't say "Yes." She said "Play ball!" and laughed, and kissed him on the lips-long and thoroughly.
He kissed her in return, and decided that from this time forth, the words "play ball" would never mean quite the same thing as they had before.
When he woke with sunlight streaming through his window, it seemed to him that the glow of it suffused him inside and out. He rolled over and turned to the window and saw The c.o.c.kroach, sitting upon the sill, gleaming like a black-cherry jewel.
He sat up. It couldn't be. c.o.c.kroaches simply didn't live that long...did they?
"You were talking in your sleep again, Ganny-boy," his brother informed him from the neighboring bed. "You were talking to that Lana again. I think you may have proposed to her."
Ganady laughed. "Of course I've proposed to her. Why shouldn't I? You proposed to your princess; Yevgeny-oh, excuse me-Eugene proposed to his. Don't I get to marry a princess, too?"
Nick threw his little brother a look. "You're in an odd mood. What happened to my so-solemn little brother, eh?"
"Why do I have to be solemn? Can't a guy be goofy sometimes?"
"Goofy, huh?" Nick shook his head. "You've been holding out on us, eh? About this girl, I mean. You didn't tell me it was this serious."
Ganny shrugged and threw off his covers. "I didn't tell anyone it was this serious." Not even myself.
Now Nikolai sat up too. "You really asked her to marry you? When?"
"Oh...last night. You were all at church. When I got back from Mr. O's she was waiting for me on the stoop and I just...popped the question."
"Yeah? How does she feel about being married to a musician?"
"She likes it just fine, and why not?"
"Yeah? And how does her family feel about it?"
Ganady thought about Mr. Joe and Boris the Bagel Prince, and the bottom dropped out of his waking dream. He managed to stammer, "Well, her Da likes me," and deflected any further questions. But he knew without doubt that he would have to answer many more like that one if Nikolai announced his engagement to the rest of the family.
"Hey, Nikolai-Nick, listen. We...Lana and I...we've actually got a few little problems to work out with her family and all. So I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything about this to anybody, okay? Let me tell."
Nick's dark brows rose. "Sure, kid. But you'd better do it soon or I'll spill the beans for you. You got that?"
"Yeah. Sure. Got it," Ganady said. He glanced back to the window where Princess c.o.c.kroach sat sunbathing and wracked his brains for some sort of story to tell about Svetlana's family.
At this point, it occurred to him that explaining his beloved's family was quite possibly the least of his worries. How, after all, was he to explain her?
Sixteen: Three Brides.
Nikolai Puzdrovsky kept ears and eyes peeled, but his little brother had told no one anything about the mysterious Svetlana. Nick waited a week, figuring that perhaps Ganady meant to divulge his secret at Sabbath dinner where the entire family would be present. But Sabbath dinner came and went and Ganady said nothing.
That night, as he bade his father goodnight, Nick paused just inside the parlor door. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He s.h.i.+fted from foot to foot. He leaned toward the doorway. He leaned back.
Vitaly Puzdrovsky looked up from the Sunday paper. "What is it, Nikolai?"
"Oh...uh...well," said Nikolai, "I...I just wondered if maybe Ganny had said anything to you about-um-about his girl?"
"His girl?" repeated Vitaly incredulously. "He has a girl?"
"Well, yeah. Svetlana. I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned her."
"Your mother has mentioned a Svetlana. To tell you the truth, I thought she might have made her up. But you say, Ganny has talked about her, too?"
"Oh, sure."
"Then why haven't we met her, this Svetlana?"
Nick shrugged. "I don't know. Ganny said something about her having some family troubles."
"I see. And why are you speaking to me now of Ganady's girl?"
Nick hesitated again, s.h.i.+fting from foot to foot. Then he wandered farther into the room, glancing quickly over his shoulder toward the staircase. "He asked me not to say anything, but, gosh, I figured he would have told you something about her by now."
"Gosh?" echoed his Da. "What is 'gosh'?"
"It just means I'm kind of surprised he didn't say anything."
"About?"
"He told me he asked her to marry him."
Vitaly Puzdrovsky's eyebrows nearly met over the bridge of his nose. "Marry him? A girl we haven't even met?"
"I think Baba Irina might have met her."
"Is she Catholic?"
"Well...I think so. I think he met her in church. Anyway, when he tells us, you'll act surprised, right? I don't want him to think...you know."
Vitaly turned back to his newspaper. "I shall be as silent as a nun."
oOo "Ravke, has our youngest son spoken to you of marriage?"
"Spoken to me of what marriage-his brother's?"
Vitaly hid a smile as he watched his wife's reflection in the mirror of her dresser. "I should say of his own. To a girl named Svetlana."
Rebecca turned in her chair, her hairbrush poised for its forty-ninth stroke. "His own? He's spoken of this to you? Of-of marrying?"
Vitaly said nothing.
Rebecca set down her brush and put her hands to her cheeks. "He and Svetlana? Has he asked her?"
"It would seem so. I am not to have told you this, Ravke. Ganady's girl is having some family problems, and I think perhaps they must be solved before the marriage can be announced. Still, we should meet this girl, don't you think? We should invite her to dinner."
oOo Rebecca herself issued the invitation at breakfast the following morning.
"So, when shall we meet Svetlana?" she asked brightly while serving the oatmeal.
"Svetlana?" Ganady barely managed to keep his spoon from tumbling from his nerveless fingers into his oatmeal.
His mother dimpled prettily, her dark eyes sparkling. "We have let you have your secrets, Ganady Puzdrovsky, but now I think it is time we met this girl of yours. You will invite her for Sabbath dinner this week."
Ganny coughed. "I don't know, Mama..."
"Well, I do," said Vitaly. "Your Mama is right-it's time we met this girl. Certainly we must meet her before you marry."
There was a sudden cessation of movement in the Puzdrovsky kitchen. Mama stood by her husband's chair, while he sat, expectant, a spoonful of oatmeal drooping toward his bowl. Ganady and Nikolai stared in unison at their father, while Marija watched the tableau, wide-eyed. Baba Irina laid her napkin across her lap, picked up her spoon and smiled.
After a moment of stunned silence, Ganady moved his eyes to his brother's beet red face.
"I'm sorry, Ganny," mumbled Nikolai. "I thought Da must know, and I said something and...and then he really did know."
"It doesn't matter," said Mama. "If you have asked this girl to marry you, then we must meet her, don't you think?"
"Yes, Mama."
"And have you asked her to marry you?"
"Yes, Mama."
"Well, then..."
"I'm just not sure she can come. Things with her family are...kind of hard."
"How, hard?" asked Da.
Ganny stuck his spoon into his oatmeal and sat back in his chair, debating silently what he should say. "Her Da wants she should inherit his business. But that's not what she wants."
"What sort of business?" Da asked.
"Butcher shops. Her family has two butcher shops and her Da is opening another one and he wants her to follow him into the business. He wants to build a sort of Sausage Empire. I think he wants to turn them into delis, too. He said something about sandwiches." Ganny shrugged.
"And what sort of man wants his daughter to follow him in such a business?"
"A man without sons?" guessed Baba Irina, serenely eating her oatmeal.
Ganny nodded. "She has a cousin Mikhail who works in their shop over on Pa.s.syunk Square, but I guess her Da doesn't want him to take over the shops."
"Pa.s.syunk Square? I know this shop. Gusalev and Sons." Da laid none-too-subtle stress on the last word.
"The window said ' Gusthof and Sons,' when Mr. Joe bought the shop. He said it would have cost too much to change it all, so he just had the broken pane replaced."
"The broken pane?"
Ganny colored. "The pane with the name on it got broken. Mr. Joe said it was a sign from G.o.d he should have the name changed."
"This is where you've been was.h.i.+ng windows on Sat.u.r.days, yes?" Baba asked.