Reunited After 25 Years 2

They sat on the steps of the church for a long time, Anton's arm around Andrea and her head resting on his shoulder. The sun began to set and the air grew cooler.

"The sunset is beautiful," Anton murmured. His arm moved gently up and down Andrea's. She didn't want to move but knew that she couldn't stay there all night.

"I suppose I should be heading home," she finally said.

"I will walk you home," said Anton, taking her hand.

Denny opened the door to let his mother in and glanced at Anton in surprise. He was a few inches taller than Andrea, and his hair was a darker shade of blonde than hers, but he had the same blue eyes.

"This is Anton. He's an old friend of mine," Andrea told her son. The boy grinned shyly.

"It is wonderful to meet you," Anton said. "I knew your mother long ago, before you were born."

"Anton was on a submarine that ran aground on our beach," Andrea told Denny. "We were afraid that he and the others had come to attack us, but they were only looking for help."

"Why were you afraid?" asked Denny.

"That was during the Cold War, when everyone was afraid of the Russians," Andrea explained.

"Oh, yeah, that's right." Denny grinned. "I remember learning about it in school."

"I will go back to the motel now," Anton said. "See you tomorrow."

"He seemed nice enough," Denny remarked after Anton had left. Andrea nodded. Denny looked at her closely. "He was more than a friend, wasn't he?" he ventured.

Andrea nodded again. Denny noticed how sad she looked.

"How long were you two together?"

"All of one day. Well, not quite." Andrea chuckled.

"So you didn't really have time to get to know each other very well."

"No, but I really liked him and wished that he could stay. I waited a long time for him to come back."

"And then you met Dad."

"Yes. I did really love your father, Denny. But I never forgot Anton."

"Is Anton the reason you never married again after Dad died?"

"Probably."

"That's an awfully long time to wait for someone you knew for less than a day."

"I know. Crazy, isn't it?" To Andrea, the length of time she had known Anton had never been important. All that had ever mattered was how she had felt when he had held her hand, when he had kissed her. From that moment on she had known that he was the man she wanted to be with.

Time had passed and Anton had become a sweet but distant memory. Every so often a story in the news would have her thinking about him all day again. Satellites in space. Invasion of Afghanistan. Olympic hopefuls. Arms races. Words like glasnost and perestroika. Movies like 'Moscow On The Hudson' and 'Red Dawn'. The collapse of the Berlin Wall. Oh Anton, where are you? Are you safe? Are you happy? Do you still remember the beach, little Anna White, the 'rakuska', the seashell?

That night Andrea dreamed about strolling along the beach with Anton, holding hands with him, kissing him. She thought about Nadya and was suddenly dying to know all about the woman. How had she met Anton? Had she been prettier than Andrea? Was it mean and petty to feel jealous of a dead woman? Andrea had to swallow a lump in her throat. It hurt to know that Anton hadn't waited for her, but then, of course, she hadn't waited for him either. Both of them had had a child with another person. Andrea couldn't bear to wonder what it would have been like if Anton had been able to stay the first time he had come to Gloucester all those years ago. Perhaps they would have had a child together. That particular thought hurt too much to even contemplate. At the same time, Andrea chided herself for having such thoughts. Of course he hadn't waited; how could any man have been expected to wait that many years?

The following day was Sunday. Andrea greeted Anton on the beach with a smile, but his first words startled her.

"Darya is coming here tomorrow," he told her. "Her grandparents' house caught fire. They went to stay with friends, but Darya didn't want to go with them, and she did not want to go home alone. So she will join me here."

"That's terrible about the fire," Andrea said. "I hope no one was injured."

"Oh no, they are all fine. Can you come with me to the airport tomorrow? Darya wants to meet you."

"You told her about me?" Andrea was surprised.

"Of course I did!"

The next day, Andrea felt funny waiting with Anton at the airport to meet his daughter. She knew that Darya existed, of course, but the idea of actually meeting Anton's daughter seemed a bit surreal to her. Anton had already met Denny, of course, she reminded herself.

Andrea recognized Darya right away. Her hair was darker than Anton's, but she had the same blue eyes and the same facial structure. Overall, she bore a remarkable resemblance to her father. Andrea felt a sudden pang.

Andrea saw Darya look around anxiously for a few seconds, saw her face light up when she saw Anton. "Papa!" Within seconds she was in Anton's arms.

Darya turned to Andrea with a smile. "I am very sorry. My English is not so good."

"That's all right. It's better than my Russian," Andrea told her. Anton looked startled for a moment, then laughed and patted Andrea's arm.

They went to retrieve Darya's luggage and then went back to Anton's motel room. Andrea went to work at the library for a few hours, then went by the motel on the way home just to see how Darya was settling in. As she entered, she heard the girl shouting animatedly over the telephone in Russian.

Anton chuckled. "The airline lost one of her suitcases," he explained.

"Does she need anything?" asked Andrea.

"Oh, no, it's all right. I am taking care of everything. Thank you for asking though."

"If it's a bad time, I could come back later..."

"Oh, no." Anton laughed and patted her knee. "Please stay."

A few minutes later Darya joined them in the living room. She smiled when she saw Andrea.

"Andrea! I have something for you," she said.

"For me?" Andrea was surprised.

Darya disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with a wooden doll shaped like a plump woman.

"I thought my father probably didn't bring you a doll, so I got you one," she told Andrea. "I will show you."

Darya showed Andrea that the doll was actually a set of identical dolls, each one fitting snugly into the next larger sized doll.

"Why, they're lovely!" Andrea hugged Darya warmly. "Thank you!"

"It is nothing," Darya said modestly. "In my country, these dolls are everywhere."

"It was so kind of you to think of me." Andrea was touched almost to the point of tears. She felt ashamed of the conflicting thoughts she had had about Darya before. "I...I should have thought to get you something as well," she stammered.

"Oh, no! That is all right." Darya laughed. "You make my father happy. That means a lot to me."