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.22 I went upstairs to join Nance on the bench. “Twins,” I said and watched her lips form a perfect O. It took her a couple of tries before any sound came out. “Oh, my.” She looked at me with her eyes slightly narrowed, as if measuring me. “Are you sure you want more children? Are you ready to go through it all again?” I surprised myself. I smiled at her. I beamed. I laughed out loud. “You bet,” I said, one midwesterner to another. She smiled, too. Everyone would help, she said. I could teach part of the fall, then go on maternity leave. Maybe I still had some of Julia’s baby things—a crib?Ahighchair?Ifnot,peoplewouldlendthings.SheandTriciawouldthrow a baby shower. I let her talk. I imagined my house set up for a new family. My old life retrofitted to make room for two new lives. “Then, in the spring . . .” Nance stopped in midsentence, looked at me. “You aren’t coming back to Indiana, are you?” She was quicker than I was. I thought of Mosjoukine’s apartment, the big bed where I had spent my first hours with my mother and my twin. I thought of the Place Ste-Odile. “No,” I said. “I’m not.” It wasn’t until I heard myself say it that I knew it was true. I had a new life. Or I would soon build one. In France. With or without Ilya, I had my old life, my first life, back. I’d been born in Paris, and my twins would be born here, too. 200 Nance looked like she might cry. “Damn,” she said. The twins were her tightropetothefutureaswell ,athinstrandofhopeoverthatbottomlesswellofgrief we both had only begun to cross. I put my arm around her shoulders. “You can visit. As often as you’d like.” She nodded. “Well,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “the Frenchhavewonderfulprenatalcare.They’restilltryingtomakeupforallthose people they lost in the war.” I laughed again. Practical Nance. But she was right to count the blessings of free medical care. I had to feed and clothe my soon-to-be children. There was Ben’slifeinsurance.Icouldsellthehouse.Wewouldbeokay.IfIlyacouldmake his way in Paris, so could we. Ilya’s gurney appeared at the end of the hall and rolled past us into his room captained by a single orderly this time. I followed them in and waited until Ilya was back in his bed, sheets tucked carefully around the tubes. He was awake, his eyes bright, maybe with the pain starting to cut through the morphine, maybe just bright and blue the way only Ilya’s could be. “The doctor will be in with the results from the tests,” the orderly said to Ilya, giving the sheets a last pat. Ilya didn’t answer, in no hurry to hear the bad news. Assoonastheorderlyleft,Ilyapulleddownhisoxygenmask.Ithissedfaintly around his neck. “I’m sorry if I said anything crazy before.” I took his hand. “Nothing crazier than usual, brother.” I was still smiling. I couldn’t help myself. “You’re the one grinning like a fool,” he said. “I’m pregnant. With twins.” Ilyalaughed,aquickshoutofcompletesurpriseandjoy.Inspiteofthetubing, he managed to grab me and give me—and the twins—a fiercely hard hug. Even now, even after all he had gone through, he was stronger than I was. “You see?” he said, letting me go. “You were looking in the wrong direction. I told you life is about looking forward.” He grimaced and leaned back in the bed. “If I hadn’t looked behind me, I wouldn’t have found you.” Ilya made a sour face that said clearly, Look what that got you. Before I could answer, the door opened. As soon as I saw Dr. Bonheur’s face, I knew what the news would be. His name had been a good omen after all. 201 “All clear,” he said, holding up an X-ray in one hand. “Not a sign of a mass or a shadow. Nothing. Nothing! No cancer.” He slapped Ilya on the knee with the sheet of film. “You just have to learn to take care of yourself. No smoking. Honest hours.” It wasn’t L’Angoissante Aventure—death nothing but a dream. Ben and Julia did not spring back to life. The colonel and Livvy, Sophie and Anne-Sophie stayed dead. But my brother, my twin brother, would live. “We’ll keep you at least a week, though,” Dr. Bonheur said to Ilya. “Maybe ten days...
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