Anna K

by Jenny Lee

  “What about Kimmie?” Anna asked, as she was starting to feel a little panicky over the emotions swirling around her head. “She’s so cute. You could be with her.”

  “Now you’re the one being crazy,” he said. “Kimmie’s sweet, but I’m not interested. I’m interested in someone else.” He was nothing if not direct, and it was sexy.

  Anna’s phone dinged, which she found odd given the early hour. It was a text from Alexander, asking her why her train was delayed. Staring at the bubbles on her screen, she was suddenly scared of what he was going to say next. The text that came in was the worst news possible. He said he was unable to sleep after their fight and decided to drive into the city to see her. He had stopped in Greenwich to get gas and breakfast when her text came in stating she was on the train. He said he was now at the station, waiting to pick her up.

  “Oh god, Alexander is at the station. Waiting for me. He drove in because we had a…” She looked up breathlessly and met Vronsky’s eyes. “Never mind, it’s not important. What’s important is you can’t do this. We can’t do this.”

  Vronsky reached across the table and took her hands in his own. “Anna, you know it’s too late. It’s happened already.”

  “What’s happened? Nothing’s happened! We danced together at a club, so what? We did nothing wrong.” She pulled her hands from his and stood up quickly, accidentally spilling her hot chocolate. “Alexia, if you care about me at all you’ll forget about this whole night.” Anna started to walk off, but before she got to the end of the car, she stopped and turned around to face him. “I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye earlier. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, because it meant our time together was over and I wasn’t ready for it to be.” She stood there staring at him staring at her and forced herself to continue. “But it’s over now.”

  And with that she turned away from him and walked to the next train car. Count Vronsky sat very still, the only sound the dripping of her spilled hot chocolate, the only proof she had been there at all.

  XXVI

  Dustin awoke in the Bronx on a green pleather love seat in his brother Nicholas’s tiny room in the Meyerson Halfway House above the taco shop before 6 A.M. on Sunday morning. The couch smelled of cigarette smoke mixed with sour mustard plus the collective stench of all the others who had crashed there before him. Three slashes of morning light shone through the broken plastic venetian blinds of an otherwise dark room. Dustin sat up slowly because he could hear Nicholas’s raspy breathing.

  When Dustin arrived the night before, he found his brother the sole employee of a tiny storefront called Taco Taco! When he entered the front door of the restaurant, if you could even call the dingy ten-by-ten room a restaurant, it was empty. The whole thing consisted of an orange counter and three sets of tables and chairs in varying degrees of disrepair. He checked his phone again, even though he knew he was in the right place. Dustin took a seat and his brother appeared moments later, smelling like cigarettes.

  “Yo, what up?” Nicholas said as if Dustin weren’t his younger brother by three years. “Ya hungry?” Dustin’s stomach rumbled in the affirmative before he could open his mouth to speak. He nodded an emphatic yes.

  “You still eatin’ meat, right? You didn’t go all hipster vegan on me, didja?” Nicholas chuckled glumly.

  Dustin found his words. “Not me. I’ll always be a carnivore.” He added a few half-hearted wild boar–like snorts for a sound effect, but lost steam midway through the bit.

  A half smile curling up his lip, Nicholas turned his back on Dustin and began to cook. He was making a taco platter because, well, that was all that was offered at Taco Taco! The silence continued through most of the meal, as Nicholas watched Dustin wolf down six soft tacos, barely pausing to chew. Only as Dustin was washing down his late-night meal with a Mexican Coke, did Nicholas finally speak. “Man, you’re eatin’ like y’got a hole inside that needs fillin’. I should know. Though, tacos wouldn’t cut it for me. Hell, I’m pretty sure after working here I won’t ever eat a taco again.”

  “How long have you been working here?” Dustin asked.

  “Not even two weeks but it feels like two years. I work the late shift. Ten P.M. til five A.M. It stays kinda hoppin’ til about three, but the last two hours are fuckin’ killer.”

  Dustin nodded, even though it was hard to empathize with his brother. Dustin’s only employment to date was tutoring rich kids in twenty-million-dollar apartments. “I thought you had another month in the program.”

  Nicholas explained he’d had another three weeks left in his three-month rehab stint, but he was released early on good behavior. What this meant for other people was they had excelled in the program and were granted an early exit, but Nicholas rarely behaved.

  “So, you got kicked out?” Dustin asked, careful not to add the word “again” to the end of his question for fear of sounding judgmental.

  “Uh-uh, took the fall for someone else.” Nicholas said this in a way to show that was all there was to know for now. He grabbed Dustin’s plate, heading back into the kitchen. “More?”

  “No, thank you,” Dustin replied, wincing at his own politeness. His mouth stung from the salsa, and he now hankered for something else to fill his void. “Anything sweet back there?”

  “Nothing sweeter than me,” Nicholas responded, laughing at his own sarcasm.

  Dustin looked up to see his brother already returning with a paper plate of churros and a plastic honey-bear in his hands. Nicholas set the plate down in front of Dustin with a satisfied grunt. “Some things never change,” he muttered.

  Dustin grabbed a warm churro and bit into its sugary sweetness, pleased that his brother remembered his sweet tooth. “You bake these?” he asked with his mouth full.

  “If by bake you mean I take them out of the freezer and fry the fuckers up in oil, then yeah. They’re fresh, though. Someone called in a takeout but didn’t show. Fuckin’ tweakers, I should know better, right?”

  Dustin squeezed honey onto the second churro and kept eating until they were all gone. His fingers were now sticky, but he stopped himself from licking them, remembering his long subway ride. “Can I wash up?”

  His brother pointed him behind the counter, and Dustin went to the small EMPLOYEES ONLY toilet room that doubled as a supply closet. He avoided his reflection after he washed his hands, dried them quickly, and went back out to find his brother staring at his phone.

  “Who’d you take the fall for?” Dustin asked, wanting to keep the conversation on his brother’s life instead of his own. His brother was stingy with his words and was more the brooding silent type. He watched as Nicholas pulled out a bag of tobacco and rolled a cigarette at the tabletop. Dustin’s mouth twitched even though he didn’t smoke often. He thought about how the only times he ever smoked were with his brother and at late-night study groups where students were open to anything to help keep them awake.

  “Shall we?” Nicholas asked, holding up two perfectly rolled cigs.

  They smoked out front on the sidewalk, Dustin leaning against the metal gate pulled down over the storefront, while his brother paced on the sidewalk before him. Dustin gazed out at the grimy street, litter trapped in the dirty melting slush. Fortified by nicotine, Nicholas told Dustin he had met a methhead from Arizona in rehab, Natalia, and she was the one who got busted with drugs. They were together when she got caught with them, so he took the blame. Nicholas added he had been clean for two and a half months already and was ready to get sprung anyway. Their dad had been informed and had shown up the next day and the two of them, father and son, had flown back East together in absolute silence. He tried to tell their dad that the drugs weren’t his, but his words fell on deaf ears. “Never trust a junkie, I guess,” Nicholas said, signaling his story was over by dropping his butt onto the sidewalk and stubbing it out with his shoe.

  Dustin believed his brother’s story, even though Nicholas was known for embellishing the truth for his own purposes. Dustin now understood the
lengths a guy would go for the right girl.

  “You going to see her again?” Dustin asked, hoping perhaps there could be a happy ending for at least one of them.

  “She’s supposed to text when she gets out. We’ll see. Natalia ain’t the most reliable chick I ever met,” Nicholas replied, walking back into the restaurant.

  “Never trust a junkie, I guess,” Dustin added in an attempt to be jovial. He followed his brother and yawned, suddenly tired now that his belly was full. Nicholas pulled out a ring of keys from his jeans and handed them to Dustin, gesturing upward. “My room’s upstairs. Can’t beat the commute. Bathroom’s in the hallway but be quiet in there because the guy next to the toilet is a real dickhead if you wake him up. He’s got the morning shift here, so he’s gotta get up at four thirty.”

  Dustin grabbed his paper plate and tossed it in the trash can on the side wall, trying to decide what he should do. He had texted his dad that he’d be home in the morning, so it was not like anyone was waiting up for him. Dustin took the keys from his brother and pulled out his wallet. Nicholas shook his head. “On me, little bro. Go get some shut-eye, you’ll buy me breakfast in the morning when I get up. Someplace that doesn’t serve tacos.”

  Dustin had fallen asleep within minutes of curling up on the couch, his heartbreak covering him like a blanket. He didn’t even remember hearing his brother come in several hours later.

  The next morning, Dustin stood up from the couch and crossed over to the window to stare out at the soot-stained brick wall across the air shaft. It was a new day, and no one was more thankful that yesterday was over than he was. He thought about whether he would tell his brother about Kimmie over breakfast. He doubted his brother would be sympathetic to his plight, but Dustin didn’t care. It wasn’t comfort he was after. Dustin only wanted to purge himself of any remaining feelings for her, and then he never wanted to think about Kimmie again.

  XXVII

  The debris was cleared from the train tracks after twenty minutes, and the wheels slowly came to life and began to inch forward. Anna was relieved to be on her way again, but at the same time felt sharp pinpricks of anxiety, unsure of how she felt about where she was heading. She had taken the train to Greenwich thousands of times in her life, but this was the only trip she could remember where she was brimming with dread. Funny how one night can change everything, she thought to herself, but quickly followed it with a different reflection. Nothing is different. I’ll soon be at the same station where I always get off. My boyfriend will be waiting for me ready to apologize for our tiff with hot coffee and a chocolate croissant. He’ll drive me home and my dogs will be waiting in the foyer windows, their wet noses smudging the glass. I’ll have to brace myself against the door so they won’t knock me over in their excitement.

  But even as she told herself what was to come, a secret part of her wondered where he was on the train. Did Vronsky clean up her spilled hot chocolate or did he just walk away from it? He cleaned it up; she knew he did. He was spoiled as they all were with money and servants, but when out in public his good manners would insist upon the cleanup of any mess he made. It was her mess technically, but it was because of him. He was the one who’d said all those things to her, sharing his feelings with no thought of consequence. Anna reminded herself she had never agreed, never said anything back to him. She had done nothing to encourage Vronsky to say those things; in fact, she had tried to make sure they were never said at all, leaving the party without saying good-bye as she did.

  If she had stayed to talk to him at the club, what would have happened? Would he have been more understanding that she needed to go back to Greenwich? That she needed the peace of her own bed after a night of dancing with him? Anna couldn’t recall the last time she had stayed up all night. Even at slumber parties as a kid, she was the girl who fell asleep first. She had no fear of missing out on anything and never hesitated to leave the other girls gossiping about cute teachers, new clothes, and all the parties they weren’t old enough to attend.

  In fact, this year she hadn’t even attended her own brother’s New Year’s Eve party. Instead she had opted to stay in Maui with her parents and Alexander. The two of them rang in the New Year alone in the heated saline pool at the luxury resort near her parents’ beach house. Now she remembered, Alexander had not even kissed her at midnight. A tropical breeze had blown a beach ball into the pool a minute before and Alexander had chased after it. He always did the right thing, her boyfriend. Picking up litter and throwing it away. Recycling to save the planet. He was the one who had made sure their school started composting in the cafeteria, just one of his many rulings as school president. When she had seen the beach ball land near them, her first thought had been what sound it would make if she popped it.

  So when the New Year arrived, she was on one side of the pool and he was on the other. Anna thought about the maxim that it was bad luck not to kiss someone at the stroke of midnight, which she told Alexander later, when they walked along the dark beach back to her parents’ place. He had responded there was no such thing as bad luck, but then turned and asked in a teasing voice, “Does someone need a kiss?” Anna remembered she wished Alexander had just grabbed her and kissed her in the moment, as opposed to always having to discuss everything.

  Anna was surprised Alexander had chosen to drive down from Boston to see her today. Being spontaneous was not his way, as he was usually scheduled down to the quarter hour. This impromptu road trip of his would surely disrupt his entire weekend. Anna wondered whether he’d detected something in her voice when he called before she had left for the party.

  When the train screeched to a stop in Greenwich, the platform was empty, and Anna was hopeful that Alexander had chosen to stay in his car waiting for her. She hurried off the train, pulling up the hood of her coat so she wouldn’t look around like a horse who needed blinders to be guided forward. She half ran, half walked in the direction of the parking lot when she heard Alexander call out her name. “Anna!” She bit her lip, and, keeping her face relaxed, turned.

  There he was, her boyfriend, bundled in his navy Ralph Lauren parka over his pressed khakis, waving at her. Alexander wasn’t wearing a hat, so his hair was wet from the snow and flattened on his head. His ears … she thought to herself, have they always been so big?

  Alexander walked up and hugged her, kissing her still warm cheek with his cold, thin lips.

  “You made it,” he said, stating the obvious.

  Anna fought to keep her composure. Be nice, she told herself, this has nothing to do with him. She grabbed his arm and tried to move him along, afraid to linger a moment longer than necessary.

  “I brought you coffee and a croissant. Chocolate of course,” Alexander said, not budging. Of course you did, Anna thought. Never a surprise from you! “Maybe that will make you happier to see me?” He was teasing her, but she couldn’t help but feel like he was admonishing her for not appearing more pleased.

  She forced a smile. “Thank you. Though I’m desperate to sleep, so you can have my coffee.”

  “What a surprise!” Vronsky’s voice sounded from behind them. Anna shut her eyes, at once furious Vronsky would dare to do this right now and elated she would get to see his face again. She turned slowly and there he was, standing before her, his unruly scarf once again touching the ground. If she reached out her hand, she could touch his face. He was so close to her and yet there was a vast chasm between them.

  Alexander looked confused at the young man standing before them and put his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. Anna stepped to the side, shaking off his hand. “We were on the same train?” she said softly, framing her words as a question for her boyfriend’s benefit.

  “Alexander, this is Alex Vronsky. Beatrice’s cousin from the city. Alex, this is my boyfriend, Alexander.” Her words came out in a rush and she tried hard not to stare at Vronsky for too long, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep a smile off her face.

  “Oh, yes. Pleasure to meet you,�
�� Alexander said, shaking Vronsky’s hand after taking off his charcoal mittens. “What brings you to Greenwich so early?” His voice was low and serious as if he alone oversaw all who entered his city. Anna, normally not a catty girl, couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she took in the scene before her. What man wears mittens? Just because your half-sister knitted them for you, doesn’t mean you have to wear them. Why must you always placate Eleanor like she’s still a child?

  “I missed my uncle’s birthday dinner a few nights ago and decided to surprise him,” Vronsky replied, so casually that Anna herself had a moment of doubt wondering if perhaps this was his reason for being on the train, and not her. “He gets up early, my uncle.” Vronsky proceeded to mimic a golf swing, which if he held a club would have conveniently brained Alexander.

  “You left with the mother and came back with the son,” Alexander reported with a tight smile, pleased at himself for his wit. He glanced at Anna like a proud dog that had just laid a stick at her feet.

  Anna nodded and tightened her grip on Alexander’s arm, suggesting it was time for them to leave. She was desperate for this torture to be over. If she didn’t leave now she was afraid of what she might do. She was feeling so odd, so unlike herself. You’re just tired. You haven’t had enough sleep. Everything is fine. Just say good-bye and then you can forget this whole ridiculous night.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Alex,” she stammered. “Please wish your uncle happy birthday from me.” Before she turned away, she allowed herself to look at him once more, full in the face, though she couldn’t have resisted if she tried. Vronsky met her eyes with his own, and Anna was struck by their blueness against the overcast gray of the day. God, what she wouldn’t give to dive into them and swim away.

  Part Two