Lidka merely shrugged and turned away. Kate stared wide-eyed and tried to offer a sympathetic smile. Once again she was witnessing the aftershocks of the war.
“It is nothing that has not happened before. Kolodenkos were forced to flee to Italy. It worked well for them,” Lidka said, marching down the sidewalk.
Mention of the Kolodenkos reminded Kate about Lidka’s nickname. “How did you get your nickname? I thought it was Mr. De Luca’s name for you, but that other man called you Punia, too.”
“During the war we all had nicknames. To survive, you either had to lose your identity or risk having it stolen from you. ‘Punia’ is Polish word, meaning is bush kitten. Wild cat.”
What a fitting nickname for Lidka.
A milkman was making deliveries, and Lidka stopped him. “Do you know where Babuszka lives?” she asked. “She is new to town.”
The grizzled man laughed. “We’re all new.”
They carried on, asking everyone they came across. They all shook their heads. Kate wasn’t surprised, since the question was the Polish equivalent of walking down the street in New York asking if anyone knew where the old woman lived.
“I thought someone would know,” Lidka said. “This is a small place and she is unusual.”
They entered a restaurant, and at the warm smell of breakfast, Kate’s stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since the milk bar. A waitress with a little girl clinging to her leg showed them to a table.
“Don’t mind her,” the waitress said. “She lost her first tooth this morning and the blood scared her a little. She won’t leave my side. Good thing the owner is my papa and he spoils his little granddaughter.”
After the waitress took their orders, Lidka said, “We are looking for Babuszka. She would have arrived a couple weeks ago.”
The waitress shook her head. “We’ve got so many people coming through, I can’t keep them straight. Some stay, some move on.”
But the little girl’s eyes opened wide and she stared at Lidka. She knows something.
Kate crooked her finger at her. “Let me see your tooth,” she said in Polish.
The little girl shook her head but came over to Kate and pointed to the empty space in her mouth. The mother returned to the kitchen, but the girl stayed behind.
“Oh, look at that,” Kate said. “You have a cute space in your smile.” The girl smiled even wider, showing off the new gap. “Have you seen the babuszka?”
She nodded enthusiastically and pointed down the street in the direction they had been walking.
“She lives that way? What color is her house?”
Shake no.
“No house?”
Shrug.
The waitress stopped by. “The girl won’t talk, but if you don’t mind her sitting with you, she likes to draw.”
Lidka made a move like she was going to protest, but Kate scooped the girl up and sat her on the empty chair. The girl grinned like she was privileged to sit with them. The waitress plunked some paper and crayons down before greeting new customers.
Immediately the girl started drawing a tree. Lidka rolled her eyes.
Many trees later, the girl drew a woman wearing a kerchief deep in the middle of the trees. She patted Kate’s arm and pointed to the woman.
“She lives in the forest?” Kate asked.
The little girl nodded.
“What else?”
The girl drew a building at the top of her page and pointed to herself.
“We are in the building?” Kate asked.
Another nod. Then the girl drew the river. She put her finger on the restaurant, then followed the river south before pointing to the forest in her picture.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Kate wished she had something to give the girl.
Lidka was already extracting the young thing from her chair, but before sending her on her way, she handed her a candy. The girl clutched it and ran back into the kitchens.
“You are more kind than I expected,” Kate said with a smile.
“So, we know where we’re going?” Dad asked.
“Into the woods,” Kate said. Where all fairy-tale characters seem to end up.
They followed the river out of town until they came to an opening in the trees that looked like it might be a path. The pine trees were young, and there was little undergrowth. “Let’s try it,” Kate said.
The path meandered through the forest and disappeared at several points. If they weren’t so determined, they would have given up and gone back to town. They continued deep into the forest until the path ended at a clearing and a familiar storybook cottage.
“Dad, you remember the sketch you drew of the cottage in Italy?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s right here in front of us.”
The only difference from the place in Italy was that someone was home at this cottage. An old woman nestled into the rocking chair out front like she was part of the forest, and had been resting there comfortably for years. A small fire had been set a respectable distance away from the cottage and was now reduced to glowing coals that were warming a large stewpot.
“It’s the babuszka,” Kate said.
The woman beckoned them to come to her.
Lidka hiked up her bag farther on her shoulder and quickened her pace, leaving Kate and Dad behind. By the time they got there, Lidka had already gone inside.
“Hello,” Kate said, and she introduced herself and her dad, reminding her how they had met in Italy.
The babuszka smiled and nodded. Smiled and nodded. But didn’t speak. She looked tired.
“Come in,” Lidka said. “There is food.”
Kate helped her dad navigate the door and settle into a chair at a small table. A platter of meat and cheeses and bread was waiting. Lidka had already started eating.
“Shouldn’t we invite the babuszka in?” Dad asked.
“I will,” Kate said.
The babuszka had moved off the rocking chair and was now stirring the pot hanging over the fire. “Thank you for the food,” Kate said. “Please, come eat with us.”
The babuszka said nothing, just continued to stir. Kate came closer and watched the long-handled spoon go round and round. The stew she was making smelled delicious, the scent of rosemary rising from the pot. Kate took her eyes off the stew and looked at the babuszka. A dawning look of recognition spread across the old woman’s face. “You,” she said in a dry voice. “You are the Keeper.”
Surprised, Kate nodded.
“Do you have it?” The old woman let go of the long spoon and shakily started forward.
Kate reached out to hold her steady. The babuszka could mean so many things, but Kate knew she was asking about the amber necklace. The real amber necklace. She felt the weight of it around her neck. She pulled the pendant out from under her blouse, surprised that in all her travels, no one had tried to take it from her.
The babuszka motioned with her hands that she would like to hold it.
Kate unclasped the necklace and handed it over with complete trust.
The old woman closed her eyes and lifted her head to the heavens. “What was lost is found.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Early in the morning, Kate found the babuszka at the side of the house. She was tilling the soil, a variety of garden tools at her side. She looked like a picture, with her layered dress, shawl, and kerchief over her hair, tied under her chin. She also wore the amber necklace.
Kate took out her camera and focused. She framed the babuszka to the left of center, her hoe crossing the center line of the frame. She paused. The babuszka looked different. Refreshed. Click.
“May I help?” Kate asked in Polish. She put her bag down on the edge of the rectangle of soil the babuszka was tilling.
“Of course,” she answered in clear English. “I’m planting my pumpkins.” The words came out unmuddled, but from a voice that was dry and unused.
Kate blinked. Her English was excellent. And where was the tired
old woman from yesterday?
They’d all bunked down after sunset, but the old woman had stayed out by her fire all night. The stew she had made them tasted as good as it smelled. Lidka had finally relaxed in the cozy cottage, convinced Malwinka wouldn’t find them here. But Kate had trouble sleeping. She kept picturing Gustaw looking right at her and then walking away.
“A little late this year,” the babuszka continued, “but I know a few tricks to get them to grow. I remember another year I was late planting my pumpkins.” She smiled. “And what a year that was.”
“You’ve been a gardener for a long time?” Kate asked, marveling at the woman’s transformation.
The babuszka nodded, then demonstrated how she wanted the soil broken up. “This will be my first pumpkin patch in this kingdom.”
Kate glanced at her, wondering at the reference to a kingdom. Did she know she was in the modern country of Poland?
“Why did you leave Italy? The Kolodenkos are worried about you.”
The babuszka stopped tilling. She braced her hands on the tip of the handle and examined Kate. “I was never meant to stay. I was only there to be close to Fyodora. The war took its toll on my health, and it was time for me to return. I thought I had the necklace to get me here.”
Kate’s face burned. She should have given it to the woman at the piazza, but at the time she didn’t know who she was.
“But you didn’t return to your first home,” Kate said, testing her guess that the babuszka once lived near the castle.
She nodded and returned to her tilling. “You have seen the beautiful valley, have you not? It is quiet, like here. But it has sad memories. People stay away. They are afraid of the place, though they don’t know why.” She looked up and waved her hand to the forest. “I am needed here, now. These people who live beyond this place are in turmoil. I can be a servant to them.”
“How old are you?”
The babuszka turned her back as she continued working. “I stopped counting years long ago. Now I count girls.”
Did the babuszka suffer like Aunt Elsie? Confusing words without even knowing it?
“You are not curious what I mean?”
“Yes.”
“Your babcia is Katja Petrov?”
“Yes.”
“I knew her. And Elsie, her sister?”
“My aunt.”
“I’ve known them all.” She looked deep into Kate’s eyes. “And now I’ve met you. The next Keeper.”
Kate was not exactly surprised, but to be here, with her fingers getting chilled in the early morning air, and talking with the woman who could answer all her questions, did leave her in awe.
“Are you . . .” Kate couldn’t say the words out loud. Fairy godmother.
“My friends call me Esmerelda. But I have grown accustomed to being called Babuszka. This is fine.” She patted her kerchief. “I look the part.”
“You are different from when we first saw you,” Kate said, trying to be tactful. How do you tell someone that you once thought she was walking on the edge of insanity, but now she seemed normal?
Esmerelda cackled. “I feel so much better now that you are here and have brought the amber necklace. I never realized how much of me was in there until your babcia took it so far away.” She hobbled over to the pile of tools and dropped her hoe. “You know, I felt the very day it set sail. I knew then that I had to stay close to the Kolodenkos if I were to ever see it again. That family always has been kind. Each person makes a life for themselves, but it does help to be taught right from wrong early on. The Burgosovs still pass down hatred and wickedness in their family.” She dug around in her pocket and pulled out a folded paper filled with seeds. She handed some to Kate. “You are both Burgosov and Kolodenko. You are also Keeper?”
“Yes.”
“You are the first.” Esmerelda demonstrated how to plant the pumpkin seeds.
They worked in silence. Kate suspected Esmerelda was giving her time to reflect. So much had happened on her trip, she hadn’t had time to process it all. Finding her dad had overshadowed everything else she had learned, particularly her connection to the Burgosovs, and by extension, the Kolodenkos.
What a strange position to find herself in, at the point of union between two feuding families. She was the official Keeper through her family line, but using the Burgosovs’ logic, she could lay claim to the Kolodenko treasures, too.
Of course, Lidka told her she was more Burgosov than Kolodenko because Kate wasn’t a direct descendant of Cinderella, only a relation. She didn’t want to take sides in a feud; rather, she liked it when she thought she was outside of the conflict, keeping the collection safe while they battled it out. For her, the stakes had been ones of family pride, a heritage of service. Did that have to change now that she knew who her grandfather really was?
“You are still you,” Esmerelda said, as if reading her thoughts. “When you find out something about where you came from, it does not change who you are or who you are becoming. Nadzia was like you. She was an orphan girl, left on my doorstep when she was a baby. Someone had gone to great trouble to bring her to me. The people in the village always thought I was strange. I preferred to live in the mountains by myself. But when I heard that baby cry early one morning, well, my life has never been the same.”
“She was left in a basket on your doorstep? I thought that only happened in stories.”
Esmerelda smiled. “I was used to quietly helping people, staying in the background, doing my bit, and then leaving. But now I had a girl come to live with me. I thought about giving her away. Finding a nice family to leave her with—on their doorstep as I had found her on mine. But the mother who left Nadzia with me must have had her reasons. I thought maybe she might return, and if I moved on or gave the girl to someone else to raise, the mother would never know. Her planning would have been for nothing, and how sad she would be.”
Kate finished planting her final seeds and, standing, brushed the dirt off her hands. “Did the mother come back?”
Esmerelda shrugged. “Perhaps. Whenever we went into town I studied the faces of the girls. Did any of them follow from afar? Did any try to get close to us? I never could tell with all the strange looks I got anyway, showing up with a baby all of a sudden. I’m sure the people thought I stole her.” She wiped her face with a kerchief. “Have a drink?” she asked, her eyes squinting against the light.
A gourd filled with water sat on a stump near the house. Esmerelda poured them each a drink in little tin cups. By now, the sun had fully come up, touching the soil and warming the seeds.
“How did Nadzia end up at the castle?”
“Kopciuszek came to us. Poor, wretched girl. She was being mistreated at home and would escape to the mountains, like me, whenever she could. I grew herbs that her stepmother liked, so it was a good excuse for her to come visit me. The stepmother would get first pick of the herb garden, which made her happy, and Kopciuszek would get a few hours of freedom. She and the younger Nadzia became good friends. When Kopciuszek’s fortunes changed, she invited Nadzia to go with her.”
“How did her fortunes change?” Kate asked, hoping for the magical tale.
Esmerelda cackled. “Oh, that is a fun tale, but one to be saved for another time.” She grew serious. “All you need to know is the blessing doesn’t have to stay the way it is. I bound Nadzia to Kopciuszek so the girls would look after each other. I didn’t realize the trouble it would cause in future generations. If you want, I can release your family.”
Esmerelda called it a blessing. Kate had only been Keeper for such a short time. Did she want it to change? Should it change? Now that they were safe again, could she walk away from the dresses?
Chapter Forty
They were interrupted by Lidka, running out of the house, eyes wide. “They are here. The stepsisters. They found us. Babuszka, where can we go?”
Kate’s heart began to race. Once again, they were in a secluded location. She never should have listened to Li
dka. She and Dad should have gone straight to the border and claimed their American citizenship, and then zipped him home so he could see a doctor about his eyes. Or there might have been an embassy in the capital city. Why didn’t they think to look?
Esmerelda shook her head, her eyes focused on the forest past the cottage. Sure enough, there were shadows moving furtively among the trees. Kate’s instincts had her looking for a hiding place to duck behind, like a futile game of hide-and-seek. But her dad was still in the cottage unawares. She couldn’t get separated from him again; whatever happened would happen to the two of them.
The stepsisters emerged from the forest and surveyed the setting. Malwinka and Ludmilla, alone. When they spotted Esmerelda and the girls standing beside the cottage, they began walking with renewed purpose.
The descendants of the stepsisters were halfway across the clearing when there came a sound from behind.
“You!”
Kate whirled around to see Princess Kolodenko and Nessa emerging from the forest. They were dressed in hiking gear and carrying backpacks. Heart pounding, Kate searched the trees for Johnny and Floyd, but apparently the Kolodenkos came alone.
“Isn’t this lovely,” Malwinka answered. “A family reunion.”
As each side advanced, Kate realized they were going to have a showdown in the middle of the pumpkin patch.
“Stop,” Esmerelda commanded. She did not yell or even raise her voice, but everyone froze on the edges of the freshly turned soil and waited. “Each side will be heard, but you are not to speak to each other. Kolodenkos, you stay on that side of the yard. Burgosovs on that side. The cabins are comfortable and have everything you’ll need for your stay.”
Two cute cabins were placed back in the trees on opposite sides of the yard with the fairy-tale cottage in the middle. Kate hadn’t noticed the matching buildings until Esmerelda pointed them out. By the confused look on Lidka’s face, she hadn’t noticed them, either.
“You are tired from your journeys. Go and rest. I will visit you later.” She waved them off like she was shooing little children to run and play.
“What do we do?” Kate asked. Lidka hadn’t moved, either.
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