Aimie Runyan - Daughters of the Night Sky

“I can’t let you,” I said, gripping my handbag in my lap, wondering if I would be able to scrape together my half of the meal’s cost from its contents.

“Please don’t think about it. Nothing gives me more pleasure than spending Father’s money on little luxuries he doesn’t approve of. A canvas, paints, and now a good meal with a lovely woman, all in the space of one afternoon. Father would be properly fuming. Let’s drink to him.”

His eyes met mine as he lifted his glass. “Za tvojo zdorovie.”

“Za tvojo zdorovie,” I toasted to his health in turn, then brought the foamy brew to my lips, savoring the cool trickle down the back of my throat after hours in the sun.

“I have wanted to thank you,” I finally said as I pushed a piece of potato about the edge of my plate. “I know Captain Karlov would have been perfectly happy to see me grounded and miss graduation since Tokarev can’t fly.” And why did you help me?

“It’s high time those bastards practice what they preach. If they’re going to admit women to the academies, they’d better damn well train them; else they’re just wasting Russia’s resources and everyone’s time. And Karlov is a special case, for sure.”

My shoulders tensed at the thought of Karlov’s onion-perfumed grimace on his walrus-whiskered face. “That’s the truth.”

“I’m shocked the headmaster dared assign any woman to him. I’d take it as a compliment if I were you. He must have thought you were either tough enough to survive him or worth the trouble of getting rid of. Either way, you made an impression.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose.” I laughed, not knowing which option I hoped was true. I sipped through the foam on my lager, wondering how much would be prudent to drink. No more than half, though it seemed a waste.

“You know what you’re doing, not that you need me to tell you that. Insecure little prigs like Karlov will spend their whole lives trying to convince you otherwise, but you don’t have to let them.” He rearranged his roasted potatoes into a pattern as he spoke, unable to fully leave his art behind him.

“I do try. It’s not always easy, though.” I wished I were the sort of woman who could easily ignore Karlov’s rebukes and oversights, but I was an academic’s daughter and couldn’t entirely ignore the opinions of my instructors—founded or unjust.

“I can only imagine. Just do me one favor to repay me for getting you back in the cockpit.”

I set my fork aside my plate. “What exactly is that?”

“Remember how much fun this afternoon has been. Look up from your books every once in a while, and enjoy yourself. And enjoy what you can before graduation… no matter what else happens.”

“I will try,” I said, “but I have a favor to ask of you as well.” I felt my hands shaking as I sought the words I needed. “Today was wonderful, but I don’t think we should do this again.”

“Katya, we’re two grown people enjoying an afternoon off. No one could have a thing to say about it.” He reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. I’d made him nervous.

“Vanya, you don’t know how it is for us. You can’t possibly. We’re held to different standards.” I folded my hands on the table in front of me, resolute. “Women like me have to choose between career and romance. I can’t let myself get distracted. If it’s any consolation, this is the first time I regret that.”

“‘Distraction.’ That charming word of yours again. Very well, then.” He lit his cigarette, his eyes drifting off to inspect something on the wall behind me for several moments. “If this is a date, and it is to be our last, then indulge me and let me drag it on a bit. Let’s have dessert and coffee, unless you worry for your reputation too much.”

“Of course.”

We dropped the subject and talked of painting and music, then lingered over the subject of our parents. His father sounded like a brute, and his mother too docile to temper him and protect her son. I spoke of Mama with concern and Papa with reverence—his sweet temper, quick wit, and brilliant mind. The courses he taught and how widely respected he was. Even the mention of him twelve years after his death caused the air to catch in my chest and form a dull ache that rivaled the swell of pride I felt telling Vanya of his accomplishments.

“I envy you your happy memories of your father. He must have been a wonderful man.” He exhaled cigarette smoke from his nostrils. He resembled an irritated dragon for a moment; then his shoulders drooped again. What was he remembering? More aptly, what was he forcing himself to forget?

“He was,” I agreed. “And brilliant. I’d give my wings to speak with him again.”

“He’d be furious with you for making such a sacrifice,” Vanya said, extinguishing his cigarette in the chipped glass ashtray. “Let’s get back before we’re missed.”

I felt my heart sink at his pronouncement but knew he was right. It was several hours until curfew, but the earlier we returned, the less chance there would be of rumors spreading.

Though it was the middle of May, the night air was still cool, and I wrapped my shawl tightly around my shoulders. Vanya slipped his arm around me, and I wanted to tell him to take it back, but the words wouldn’t come. His warmth across my back and waist was too inviting, his musky scent too enticing. Taisiya had been right: he would be a distraction if I let him.

“You’re right about something,” he said as we walked down the main road in town. “I don’t know how hard it is for you and the other girls to make your way in the academy. I can try to understand, though.” Regret lined his face, but so did sincerity. That he had the largeness of mind to think about a woman’s ambitions beyond marriage, babies, and housekeeping lifted him a wide cut above most men.

“Thank you for saying that. Some days it’s murder just to show up to class, knowing how Karlov will latch on to the tiniest flaw in my performance, or invent one when he can’t. I know that’s exactly what he wants. You having to intervene for me just to get my rightful place in the cockpit infuriates me. That’s part of the reason I haven’t gone out of my way to be friendly.”

“You have every right to be furious with him, but I’m glad you seem to have forgiven my interference.” He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, and I found myself snuggling in closer to his side, his arm taking up the slack. “And since we’re making confessions, I admit, I did want this to be a date. I noticed you from our first day at the academy, and not just because you’re beautiful. You’re smart, talented, and strong. I was thrilled to transfer to your class, even though we’re almost finished. It would give me a good reason to talk to you.”

“I wish things could be different,” I said, leaning my head against his chest. I could feel the thrumming of his heart beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. We stopped our slow stroll back to campus altogether and tucked out of the way by a grocer’s that had closed for the day.

“So do I, Katyushka.” His fingers brushed against the hair on the side of my head, as comforting and warm as the endearment he fashioned for me. “Russia will enter the war; there’s no chance we won’t. When we’re drawn in, I’ll be called up just as soon. But after—”

“It seems like a bad idea to make plans,” I interjected. “Tempting fate, and all that.”

“I need a reason to come home, Katya.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

I looked up into his dark eyes, wondering if I had imagined the words—if years of self-denial had finally caught up with me and I was imagining the sort of future I didn’t think I’d be able to have for many years, if ever. As he held me in his arms, nothing seemed more real than the curve of his chin, the perfume of his breath, and the truth in the depth of his words.