Front Matter - Part 03

After I fed her and changed her into clean clothes, I let Eli play in the yard. Then I immediately went into my father’s room again. The place where Mom’s picture hung until recently was now empty but everyone knew there had been a picture there. I took one of the other pictures in the apartment and hung it in its place.

All the time I was at school, I was subconsciously thinking about how my father would react when he saw that the picture had been moved. Would he get angry? Would he take it from our room and put it back in its original place? What would I tell him when I saw him when I came home? How would he look at me? What answer would I give him when he asked why I’d done it?

My teachers kept looking at me and felt that I wasn’t paying attention in class, not as well as I had other times. I seemed distracted but none of them asked me why.

Father, this way I might save you a lot of trouble. Imagine how hard it would be for you and the new woman if she asked you to take Mom’s picture down. She might feel it was something unnecessary, something that got in the way, etc. What if she asked you to destroy that picture… and I heard her say it...? No Father, the best solution for the picture is to stay here with me. It’s simple – I love that picture very much, I’ve wanted it for a long time, since you put it up. I wanted it to be in our room, mine and Eli’s.

Confused, I went into the kitchen with my school bag in my hand while feeling my heart beating fast and hard. Dad was reading Eli a story from a children’s book.

“Hi Hristina…” they both said and my father continued reading. I didn’t get anything from the expression on my father’s face. It was like nothing had happened. Maybe he hadn’t seen or noticed the change, or maybe he was just pretending. It wasn’t possible that he hadn’t gone into either room during the entire afternoon. He was cunning that way. He didn’t want to give away what he knew, neither suddenly nor rudely. Or maybe he had just moved the picture back.

“Hristina, go change your clothes,” said my father. At that moment I became aware that I was still wearing my school clothes, had my school bag in my hand and was standing in the middle of the kitchen.

That gave me a good reason to immediately leave and go to my room where my street clothes were and change. I felt excited before I turned on the light. I stood there for a moment wondering what I would see. There was no surprise. Everything was as I’d left it.

“Daddy, Daddy thank you for understanding, you’re a good father.” I said excitedly.

After we had dinner and put Eli to bed my father and I cleared the kitchen table and washed the dishes. All that time I got the impression that he wanted to say something to me but I was afraid of what it might be.

“Hristina, you wanted your mother’s picture in your room, right? If you had told me that, we would have hung her there earlier.” said my father, almost avoiding my gaze. It seemed to me like something was choking in his throat. And again I felt sorry for him.

“It’s better if it’s in my room father, isn’t it?” I said in a completely quiet tone of voice, but also with some defiance.

He looked at me and tried to understand what was hidden behind those words of mine, and to read from the tone with which I’d said them.

From the expression on my father’s face I realized that I’d hurt him and it made me sick to my stomach. My hope now was that he would only think that this was a simple wish on my part to have mother’s picture in my room and nothing more. It was too soon to determine if there was anything else, like why I was in such a hurry to take the picture without asking. Then an evil thought surfaced in my mind. Maybe by moving the picture I was helping him, if he had such an intention... to move it. However, I pushed that thought back down and said, “Dad, when you brought the picture home for the first time I wanted to ask you to put it in my room but I didn’t have the courage to tell you to do that then. So now, after it hung there for a long time, I figured I could have it for a while,” I said trying to justify myself.

“Okay, Tinche, I’m not angry at you,” he said, “but you should have made your intentions clear beforehand.” The conversation ended there. And he knew or I believed he knew, the real reason why I moved Mom’s picture. And it was best to keep it that way.

I was happy that Vera didn’t come to our house after school that evening, as she often did lately. I wanted us to be all alone: my father, Eli and I – and my mother in the picture.

“Marina, it looks like my father may be marrying Vera, the teacher,” I said to Marina one day during our long break at school. I felt like I had to confide in someone. I told her because I felt she would understand.

“I know,” she said. “That didn’t surprise me at all because it seemed like almost everyone in the school knew. And all the neighbours too...”

“I just don’t know what to do,” I said, pretending I wasn’t that outraged. Marina was silent for some time like she didn’t know what to say, but looking at the spark in her green eyes it was clear that we were going to continue this conversation.

“You should be very happy,” she said. “Vera is a very good person, at least that’s how it seems to me.” After that Marina immediately changed the subject. I knew that it was very difficult for her to talk about. Soon after that she left me and went with some other girls.

Perhaps Marina was right, as far as Vera was concerned. But I didn’t want to accept what she said and feel relieved about the whole situation.

Marina still lived with her grandmother. Her father was so busy with work that she hardly saw him once a week and that was if she went to his house. Maybe that’s why Marina was defiant, stubborn and sometimes wicked. It was like she wanted to take revenge on others for his misfortune. She also defied the teachers – she didn’t want to answer questions and behaved like she was undisciplined. During our conversations, I warned her that what she was doing wasn’t good, but I couldn’t influence her. I didn’t know what else to do for her. Who could do anything to fill that void in her life? I sometimes thought it would be easier for her if her father wasn’t there… gone...

given that he was present so little in her life.

When I wanted to talk about it she would try to avoid the subject and, if I persisted, she would alienate herself from me. So our intimate conversations became quite rare.

I didn’t know how to help her. That would be even less possible in the future because I would probably end up in her situation and I too would be distancing myself from people.

Vera and my father had no wedding ceremony. Even their marriage registration went almost unnoticed. I saw Vera’s mother and father, brother, sister-in-law and their two sons for the first time at lunch the day of the marriage registration. They were now, as my father explained, our very close relatives.

I avoided sitting down, for a long time, at the table where lunch was served on the occasion of the celebration, even after Aunt Raina had scolded me several times in the kitchen. This was probably because she wanted me to be as happy as her. She couldn’t hide her joy that this marriage was finally taking place, which was obviously important to her. That day I didn’t love her as much as I had before.

I wanted to leave this house. It was no longer our house... Dad’s, Eli’s and mine, and of course Mom’s from the picture... Where could I go? I had the feeling that all these people who were having lunch at our table were somehow taking our house away from us in some hidden and insidious way. And I was helpless to stop them because my father, my father had allowed them to walk in here.

He’d opened the door for them.

I finally sat at the table and looked down at the food feeling like I was sitting at someone else’s table with other people; with strangers.

My plate stayed full until the end but my father was too busy looking after our guests so he hardly noticed me, whether I was eating or not, and how I was feeling. You wouldn’t believe the effort it took me to hold back the tears, ready to burst from my eyes several times.

“To your health… To your happiness…” our new relatives often toasted, raising their glasses of wine up high. The loudest were the godfathers and their wives, whose shrill voices pierced my ears and my heart. The more they drank, the more cheerful they became. I watched our guests with dread expecting that any moment now they’d start singing.

The older woman, the one with the white hair and dark-rimmed glasses, wearing a dark blue suit, looked at me and Eli from time to time with sort of an unhappy look. She was Vera’s mother. It seemed to me that she wasn’t happy at all, as if she didn’t approve of all that was happening here today. Vera’s father was a decrepit but calm man, a real old man, in formal black clothes who was completely bald. He was already drunk and, perhaps because of that, tears constantly flowed out of his small, bloodshot eyes and rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.

The elder godfather sang somewhat softly, timidly, as if he was doing something illegal. The others looked at each other with uncertainty. Some looked at my father to see if he was open to the idea of singing. Vera’s brother also began to sing. But the singing quickly died out. It was evident that there wasn’t enough desire for the singing to continue.

I decided not to run away but I tried to make myself invisible.

No one had sung in our house in all these years. When I found myself in the hallway my tears began to flow on their own.

I hadn’t noticed but Vera’s brother’s two boys came out right behind me. When I turned around they were surprised to see me crying.

They kept staring at me not sure what was happening. I quickly wiped my tears. I didn’t want them to see me crying. At that moment I became very angry and ran out into the street leaving them stunned in the hallway. Where did I go? To Marina’s place…

“I was waiting for you,” said Marina before I had a chance to speak.

I didn’t say anything. I wondered how I would hide my red eyes, from all the crying.

“Are your guests still at your place?” Marina asked.

“Yes!” I said, not being able to hide my hostile feelings. “I think I’ll never be able to love my father the way I used to. It seems to me he now belongs to them.” Marina tried to change the subject of our conversation but it didn’t work. She was always sincere and trying artificially, like she did today, didn’t work. Her grandmother treated us to some sweets, which she regularly made. I sat with them for a while but realizing that no one could ease my pain, not even Marina, I went home.

When I saw my father retire with Vera to his bedroom in the evening I again felt like I’d lost my mother all over again. I wept miserably while straining my eyes in the dark to look at her picture.

Mother, why did all this happen to you, to us and now to Dad? Why does it have to be like this? It was nice when we were all in our old apartment with you and everything you did for us. How much do we have to be punished… and for what…? I don’t know... Maybe it’s this woman’s fault, the one who came here to live with us… Maybe she is to blame for at least some of our misfortune. Will she make our life easier or will she add weight to our problems? I wanted to take the picture off the wall, kiss it and beg for forgiveness for everything which would happen, starting tomorrow.

The next day when I was expected to face Vera as my father’s wife, I didn’t know what to call her so I tried to avoid her. I had never been as clumsy as I was in those first few days. I was breaking things… I wasn’t doing things right… and because of that I got even more nervous and things became worse.

Soon Vera started to bring some of her own items here and gradually began to rearrange our house according to her taste. All those changes and new things she brought worried me; they were foreign to me... Even the fact that I thought it was better this way and the house was more beautiful, I didn’t want to accept them.

A few days later when we sat down to breakfast, Eli asked, “Will Aunt Vera be ours forever, always?”

“Yes forever,” said Vera without waiting for somebody else to give her an answer. She then hugged Eli. Eli was very happy. Poor Eli, she needed a mother and would approach any woman who was willing to be her mother. She had no mother and I, of course, could hardly stand another woman in Mom’s place. Let Eli be happy and let Vera be with her.

Being freed from many of my chores, which at first was very difficult for me to let go, I gradually began to feel pleasantly relieved. I had more time to study, read books and even play, which I had almost forgotten how to do. Again I began to get used to sitting at a set table, with lunch prepared by someone else, eating with dishes washed by someone else, clothes washed and ironed...

If I did any household chores I would immediately hear from Vera, “Tina, go do your homework... Tina, have you read the book I brought you yesterday?... Tina, if you’re done studying go out and play… Tina, go for a walk...” At first I felt uncomfortable that she, a teacher, the woman who had just arrived in our home was doing things for me that I’d been doing for a long time. At first I was defiant and didn’t like to be told what I couldn’t do. But she persistently tried every day to relieve me of all my obligations and she succeeded. She probably thought I was too young to take on such obligations. And even though she worked at school regularly and taught her class successfully, she did everything on time and properly at home. My father too, rarely had to help with the housework.

Bent over her work from school sometimes at night, I would stare at her nimble hands moving unnoticeably, checking and grading papers… Those hands became dear to me because everything beautiful in the house came from them.

Of all of us Eli seemed to be the happiest. No one could say when and who taught her but every third or fourth word coming out of Eli’s mouth was “Mama Vera”. It bothered me at first but I realized that it wasn’t only inevitable but also completely understandable given what Vera did for Eli and for all of us, from the first day she came here. She was nothing but a mother. She brought back the warmth and comfort of our home and helped us feel safer under our roof.

For Eli the day began with a song, which seemed to spring out of Vera’s mouth. That was followed by a warm breakfast, then looking at picture books and booklets. Vera’s classes were mostly in the afternoon so Eli was never without Dad or Vera. For me, the responsibilities of looking after Eli were quite few and voluntary. I could take her for a walk if I wanted… and only if I had no homework. I could tell her a story if I wanted, or read a book to her.

After some time I noticed that my father too was reading in the evening.

“What are you reading, Dad?” I asked him one day.

“I also enrolled in school,” he said and smiled. “I’m a student now too…”

“Really…? What kind of school?” I asked with interest.

“At university,” he said, seeming like he was bragging.

That made me very happy. I was excited that entire evening. It was very important for children to brag to their friends about what kind of jobs their fathers and mothers had and from what kind of school they’d graduated.

I felt very uncomfortable at school the first days after Vera married my father. It seemed to me that the girls, if they were whispering something to each other individually or in groups, were talking about me. During our breaks I avoided going out into the yard. I didn’t want to run into Vera. It was even more difficult for me now.

“Is Vera really your mother?” one of the girls asked me one day as she passed by me in the yard.

“Stepmother, not mother,” I heard Lidia whisper. She was a girl with curly red hair from the other class. She constantly hid behind the girls and pounced on them unexpectedly, making all sorts of unwanted comments.

“You’re really boring,” Marina told her, jumping to my defense wherever I needed it. She then took me to the other end of yard.

“She’s stupid,” she said mockingly and we immediately started a new conversation.

Stepmother… Once again that word. You don’t know how rude that word sounded to me, even though it was said in a whisper. It was so insulting… At that very moment I couldn’t connect this word with Vera, our new mother. I felt she didn’t deserve to be called stepmother, at least not now. If Marina hadn’t pulled me, I don’t know what I would have said to my friends. I don’t know what kind of answer I would have given them but I felt the need to protect Vera. I thought she’d been wrongly accused.

When we were alone again Marina said, “Sometimes I feel sorry that you don’t have a grandmother like me.” I knew what she meant by that. I had Aunt Raina and every time she didn’t come to our house I went to hers... but that wasn’t the point.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, our house was becoming more and more comfortable. Every word Vera said to me, or Eli, or to Dad was warm and kind. She never expressed any concerns about us. She was always happy to be with us, help us and do good. So I had less and less reason to oppose her and was getting more and more attached to her.

Of course I didn’t want Marina to know all that, because if I compared Vera to her second mother she might feel worse and even more bitter, which was already overwhelming her. Most of the time I ignored her direct questions or twisted things.

At the same time, with regard to how I felt about Vera, I began to develop different thoughts and feelings that opposed me deep down in my soul. They were eating away at me like a worm, not leaving me in peace. By loving Vera and getting closer and closer to her I felt like I was becoming a traitor, like I was betraying my love for my dear dead mother. Wasn’t I gradually allowing another woman to take her place in my life and in my soul? That thought gnawed at me terribly and there was no one to help me get rid of it; least of all my silent conversations with my mother’s motionless picture on the wall. Maybe I should have remained persistent in my resistance to Vera. I shouldn’t have let her take my mother’s place in mine and Eli’s life. My father could have done whatever he wanted. But I realized that this struggle would lead nowhere. Vera wasn’t an opponent but a staunch and tireless ally.

My father seemed quite pleased with our connection and relationship with Vera. His biggest concern was that he might have to intervene once in a while so things would go smoothly between us, but he found that there wasn’t much need for that.

One morning, when Vera and Eli had gone out to buy something from the store, I saw my aunt, my mother’s younger sister, enter our yard. I wondered where she’d been all this time. I hadn’t seen her in months. She was wearing a dark grey coat and carrying a small travel bag. She lived in another city and because of her job she rarely visited us even when Mom was alive. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t ready to talk to her, to tell her what had happened since we saw each other last.

The moment she walked in the door she began to cry out loud, like someone had died.

“Poor Nada, for whom did you struggle, to whom did you leave your children? It would have been better if you’d taken them with you, sister. Wake up sister, your husband has brought home another bride, wake up and look. Who cares about you rotting in the black ground, dear sister? Your husband didn’t wait… not even three years to mourn you. Leaving your dear children in someone else’s hands… to a stepmother? May fire burn her soul...” I stood there petrified, shaken and horrified. I looked down the street, hoping Eli and Vera weren’t coming.

My aunt wiped her tears with her handkerchief. I wasn’t able to cry, probably because of the way she acted and everything she’d said.

“You regret your mother dying, don’t you?” she said with a scolding tone of voice like she knew this was the most painful thing she could say to me. I was silent with my head bowed. How could I convince her that none of what she said was true? At the same time I had no desire to do that.

“Where is Eli?” she asked abruptly.

“At the store with Vera. They went to buy shoes.” I said.

“With her, ha?” she said sarcastically and immediately stopped crying, “So this is how she has deceived you? By buying you clothes and things? Don’t you have a father to buy things for you? She buys things for you, ha!” All the words she uttered were full of hatred, like she was talking about an enemy.

“It’s not your fault! What do you know? You’re children and can easily be fooled. It’s his fault… your father’s. But he will regret it you’ll see.” I felt completely helpless. I was glad my father wasn’t here? It was a good thing that Aunt Raina wasn’t here either. I’m sure they would have had a big fight.

“Are you a good student?” she asked. The expression on her face changed slightly like she had something good to tell me.

“I can’t take you with me but I can take Eli. She’s coming with me right now. I’m not leaving without her. This is what your father has done to you, my child. Put you through hell and made you live with a stepmother. Where even the crust of bread you bite tastes bitter.

This isn’t something you can learn in school…”she said talking non-stop and waving her hands in all directions. “Don’t fool yourself because she is nice in the beginning that she’ll always be nice.

Everyone is like that. Then they take over… After she takes over your father it will be curtains for you… She’ll do as she pleases.

And wait until she has a child of her own… It will be hard and bitter for you. You poor children…” she said and wiped her eyes again, even though they were already completely dry a long time ago. She then stroked my hair whispering, “My sweet child. That is your destiny. Like it was your mother’s...” She then walked around the rooms, looking at things she hadn’t seen before, which she was sure were Vera’s and hatefully pushing them around.

This woman was my mother’s only close relative but still I didn’t feel comfortable being close to her, nor could I confide in her about things that tormented me. I didn’t know why this was… perhaps it was because she lived far away from us and we rarely saw her? Or was it because she was so negative towards us, especially towards Vera even before she’d had a chance to meet her? I tried to justify her behaviour because of the great sadness she felt as a sister towards Mom, but still...

After a little silence she abruptly asked, “Does she beat you?” This question was very strange to me in general because Vera was nothing but a gentle person. I couldn’t relate such a thing to Vera.

I’m sure my aunt wouldn’t have asked a question like that if she knew Vera even a little bit. Vera would never do such a thing even if we were her own children.

My aunt continued persistently, “You’re hiding something… Are you hiding something from your aunt? Is this woman closer to you than me?! Or are you afraid to tell me… because you think I’ll tell your father. I won’t say anything to him, I promise you. I want you to tell me what his intentions are. Don’t hide things from me...” All this time I kept quiet because I knew that whatever good I said about Vera would make my aunt even angrier and she wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“If she hits you or if she doesn’t give you food, don’t tell your father he’s already married to her, but write me a letter so when I come back I’ll show her a thing or two. I’ll let her know that even though you are without a mother, there is someone to defend you. Then I’ll take care of your father too. Now I’m going to town to do a few things and I’ll come back to pick up Eli,” she said. “Also I want to ask your father a few things but not much. At least Eli will have some peace with me for a while.” “Aunt, don’t be angry with Dad about Eli, he won’t let her go. And I don’t agree either, I can’t do without Eli. She is fine here.” “Well I can see that you too are against me; you’re all giving up on us. Now you have another mother,” she said sarcastically, “so why would you need your deceased mother’s relatives?” She stopped talking for a moment and started up again:

“I’m your mother’s sister and what is there dearer and closer than a sister?”

“No Aunt, no one said we don’t need you,” I tried to explain to her.

“Why are you talking like that, it’s not true. Why shouldn’t we love you? But the truth is Eli is fine here and so am I. Dad and Aunt Vera take good care of us.” “I know, I know how good they take care of you,” she said sarcastically and didn’t want to hear any more.

She finally said, “I know,” one more time before she left.

It felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off my shoulders when she was gone. I figured when my father came home he could argue and negotiate with her. What nonsense! She wanted to take Eli now that my father was married. Where had she been until now? When father heard what she had to say he would probably kick her out. I’m sure Eli wouldn’t want to hear about going with her either. She barely knew our aunt. Vera and Eli got along better than most people. It was never difficult for Vera to please her and follow her wishes.

I rushed to do my homework because I didn’t have much time. I wondered if I should tell Vera that my aunt had been here and that she would come back. But I decided to tell Aunt Raina instead, the moment she arrived. I probably wouldn’t see Vera until later in the day because Vera and I would both be at school at the same time.

But, as it happened, Vera and Eli came back first followed by Aunt Raina. Vera immediately noticed something in my facial expression and my behaviour. She looked at me carefully several times.

Nothing could be hidden from her eyes. However, I still didn’t tell about my aunt’s visit. At one point, when Aunt Raina was alone in the kitchen I told her. She, probably knowing my aunt better than I did, wasn’t at all surprised.

When I told her that she wanted to take Eli with her, she shouted, “Is she out of her mind? It’s a good thing your father wasn’t here. She wouldn’t have had a good time with him, that’s for sure.” “Aunt Raina, could she take Eli by force?” I asked with fear in my voice.

“No, she’s not capable of doing such a thing,” she said, thought about it, and continued. “Even if we gave Eli to her, she wouldn’t take her. If your aunt wanted to help us she would have done so when you were much younger and alone. She just wants to show that she is concerned and cares about you. Go to school and don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.” It was difficult for me to pay attention in school with all the things that had happened that day at home. I was tempted to run over to the house during our long break and see what had happened. I didn’t want them to break relations with my mother’s sister, no matter what kind of person she was. No one could convince me that she didn’t love us and wasn’t concerned about how we lived. She lived far away and had many worries and responsibilities of her own; and she expressed her feelings for us as best as she could.

Vera came over to see me.

“Tinche, is something bothering you? Do you feel well?” she asked looking at my face with concern.

That concern of hers bothered me at that moment. It seemed exaggerated and therefore perhaps not so sincere. But when I met her gaze I immediately realized that I was wrong. I wanted to confide in her but I thought that if I did tell her what had happened that morning, she wouldn’t like it at all. At the same time Vera wasn’t a relative and we weren’t that close.

Vera kept looking at me like she needed to know something from me. Suddenly she hugged me, pulled me into her arms as if she wanted to say, whatever it is don’t worry, your father and I are here for you. My eyes pooled with tears. Fortunately the bell rang and I got out of her arms and ran back to my class.

Why couldn’t I trust her? When school was over, I didn’t want to wait for her, so I ran home by myself.

I saw Eli from the distance playing in the yard with her neighbour friend, Mariche. I don’t know why I thought she was in some sort of danger and needed me to save her? I wanted to give her a big kiss and forget all the nonsense.

Then I saw my aunt, my mother’s sister, run angrily out of the house with a travel bag in her hand and, without saying goodbye to me or Eli, left through the front door. I looked at her. She almost collided with Vera, who at the time was going inside the house. I too rushed inside and headed for my room, fearing that Vera might ask me who that woman was wearing the black handkerchief on her head. I didn’t know if my father would want me to tell her about my aunt being here this morning.

Even before I closed the door to my room, I heard Vera ask Dad, “The woman I almost ran into at the door, who left our house in a hurry a little while ago, was she a relative of yours? I don’t know her. She looked kind of strange and was terribly angry.” My father was silent for a while, looking like he was thinking what to say.

“She is Nada’s sister,” he said, and when he mentioned my mother’s name in front of Vera, I felt a strange discomfort.

Vera didn’t say anything. I don’t know why. Was she waiting for my father to tell her more about this visit, or was it simply awkward for her to ask more questions. But the fact that none of Mom’s relatives had set foot in this house since Vera came here was a clear indication that they didn’t like her or my father marrying her.

After some time I heard my father’s voice again, “Of course, you’re interested in knowing more but I don’t know how to explain it to you, that she’s just a simple woman. She feels sorry for her sister and wants to help somehow, but doesn’t know how.” My father sighed.

I was glad that my father came to the same conclusion about my aunt as I had. At that moment I felt it was a mature decision, at least it seemed that way to me. I also felt sorry for my aunt and decided, when all this was forgotten, to write her a beautiful, long letter and tell her about some of the things she didn’t know about us since we rarely saw each other.

Tension between us seemed to be rising in the house as a result of my aunt’s visit, which tugged at us in the most painful places, taking us back several years.

Living in her own world, Eli ran into the house from the yard with all her cheerfulness and carelessness, carrying a whole bunch of toys in her hands and yelling, “I’m hungry, I’m hungry.” That helped us all snap out of our preoccupation and get back to our daily lives so that we could bring order to the house. I was also very hungry because I’d eaten very little lunch at school, so I joined Eli and yelled, “I’m hungry too”. Vera ran out of her room to prepare something for us to eat.

“I would like a fried egg,” said Eli in a serious tone of voice.

“And you, Tina, what would you like to eat?” Vera asked setting aside her personal feelings.

“Are there any leftovers from lunch?” There was plenty left; almost all of the food was left. Apparently nobody felt like eating lunch that day. From that Vera figured that Dad was hungry too and gathered us all for dinner.

In the following two years, my aunt tried several more times to prevent us from having good relations with Vera, as if wanting to disrupt the harmony that we had created in the house. I believe she did it out of fear that we might forget our mother, her dead sister.

Neither my letters nor the conversations between her and my father helped... Vera stayed out of all our discussions with her. That, of course, made my aunt even angrier. She felt no opposition from Vera, which is why my father had the worst time. But he still didn’t hold a grudge against my aunt. He was trying to understand her motives.

How could we forget our own mother? She was part of us. It was most unfortunate that her life had ended so tragically. We remembered everything about her, the smallest detail of her qualities, even completely unimportant things.

I was rarely surprised and excited at the same time, but when Vera suggested that we go to the cemetery together, I was both. My father had been on the road for almost two weeks and wasn’t home, so Vera decided to take us. I don’t know why but it seemed to me that going to the cemetery should have been uncomfortable for Vera. I even expected her to try to trick Eli into thinking she was her mother, and not the one buried there somewhere, because Eli could barely remember mother. But the opposite happened. Not even a week passed without Vera saying something good about our mother, reminding us of her qualities that my father had told her about.

When we went to the cemetery alone that day, without Dad, I saw that Vera knew where my mother’s grave was and led us directly to it. We carefully cleaned the stone and poured water on the flowers which almost covered it. I couldn’t hold back my tears when I saw Vera arrange the flowers we’d picked up from our yard. We brought flowers and placed them in the vase sitting on top of Mom’s grave.

We cleaned and washed the marble stone, whitened by the sun, so that my mom’s image could be clearly seen. It was very painful for me to look at her, here on this cold stone. Vera was looking serious with some reverence for the dead expressed on her face. Eli was looking at me and at Vera, and pulling at our hands wanting to go home.

People in several places around us mourned aloud over the graves of their loved ones. It was Sunday. There were people visiting almost every grave. It was very difficult for me.

Before we were ready to leave we stood by Vera, Eli on one side and I on the other, and said goodbye to Mom.

“There’s nothing dearer than a mother,” said Vera, more so for herself than for us. I wanted to hug her, to cry on her shoulder. I felt that she would understand why. She was very understanding. I was sure now that if someone was to replace Mom, I would want it to be Vera and only Vera, and that nothing bad could happen to us with her around.

Time seemed to fly. Eli also started going to school. She was taught by a colleague of Vera’s. Vera wanted Eli to be taught by her because she was very good, a good teacher.

One day while I was doing my homework in the hallway Eli was playing in the yard with two kids from her class.

“My mother’s a teacher also,” I heard Eli say to her friends convincingly. I felt unusual. Those words coming out of Eli’s mouth sounded convincing even to me and completely normal. It might seem unfair but at that moment bitterness filled my soul. Over time Eli seemed to remember our real mother less and less. I never did call Vera, Mom, right from the start and it stayed that way. I know that most children who have stepmothers were forced to call them Mom. Even though I think Vera really deserved it, I didn’t call her Mom, ever. Vera, of course, didn’t expect me to and wouldn’t in the future.

I continued to listen to Eli’s conversation with her friends. I was afraid that in response to her boasting that her mother was a teacher, they would tell her that Vera wasn’t her real mother. But her friends seemed to pay no attention and started talking about something else.

They were so young.

Over time my father continued to go on the road. Sometimes he was away for more than ten days. His absence, however, wasn’t so difficult for us. Life continued normally. We were happy living with Vera. Her being there for us became a good part of our lives.

“Your father went on the road again,” Vera said one evening after I returned from Marina’s. “It’s better for us when he’s here but what can we do, that is his job.” “Will he be away long?” I asked.

“A week, maybe more... Did you do your homework with Marina?” “Yes I did but I think it would be better for me if I do it alone. She likes to talk a lot and waste time.” “I think it’s better to work alone too, you can concentrate more. I know you feel sorry for her because she’s alone with her grandmother, so you should go and see her after you do your homework.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

When we got home the next day Eli was complaining about her head. Later she complained about her stomach. After that, just before going to bed, she started vomiting. Vera looked at me with fear in her eyes. What to do? She couldn’t leave me alone with Eli in this condition and run to get the doctor, nor could she send me alone to get him.

Vera took Eli’s temperature. I didn’t see the reading but from the expression on Vera’s face I knew it was bad. Vera became even more concerned. Eli kept throwing up. There were changes in her face. Vera stayed with her, holding her hand, stroking her hair and cooling her forehead with a wet towel. Eli was breathing hard. From time to time she would open her eyes as if asking for help from Vera.

Several times she yelled, “Dad, Dad...” Vera could barely hold back her tears.

I went to the window and looked outside. We need to call a doctor, I thought. Vera had her face pressed against Eli’s.

“Mama, Mama,” whispered Eli.

Was Eli calling Vera in her helpless condition her real mother, who had been gone a long time. At that moment I didn’t know.

Realizing Eli’s condition was getting more serious and nothing could be done there and then, Vera quickly wrapped her up in a thin blanket, lifted her into her arms and together we all ran to the hospital. It wasn’t very far but still I wondered how Vera could carry Eli, who was quite chubby.

After the doctor examined her he said it was some kind of severe poisoning and placed Eli in a bed. We spent the whole night with Vera by her side. She had to be given medicine periodically, which the doctor on duty had left with us. I dozed off and on at Eli’s feet until morning. Vera didn’t close an eye all night.

After the crisis was over, like Eli, I too considered calling Vera, Mother. In any case it really didn’t matter because, like Eli, I also felt we already had a mother.

When my father came back from his trip he was horrified about what had happened. I told him everything in detail. He was happy that all went so well and that we’d become even closer to Vera.

Like other times when we were finished school, Vera and I came home together.

“After you finish this year,” said Vera. “You’ll be going to high school and we won’t be walking home together. You’ll be a big grown-up high school girl. But I will still be at this school with Eli.”

“I know all the teachers in this school and I’ve become used to them,” I said. “Who knows how it will be for me there.” “You have good work habits, there’s no reason for you to worry,” answered Vera.

In fact, since I started going to school I’d never had a single four (less than 80%) in any subject.

When we came close to our house Eli came to meet us. At the same time I saw a man with two small children coming towards us. He smiled at Vera kindly and looked at her carefully. I noticed from the expression on her face that Vera felt uncomfortable seeing this man and wanted to avoid him. She was trying hard not to look in his direction. When I saw that I rushed over to her and so did Eli. I must admit that I was very curious about this man and what he wanted with Vera.

“Vera,” I heard the man with the two children say.

She tried to pretend as if she didn’t hear him but then he yelled again.

Vera paused hesitantly. Eli and I continued walking, leaving her behind. I purposely hung onto Eli and told her not to look back at Vera.

Who could this man be and why didn’t Vera want to talk to him? I wondered.

When he got close to her they shook hands. Vera then patted the two children on their heads. They spoke quietly.

At one point Eli looked back at Vera and, as if wanting her to come with us, she called out, “Mama.” I also turned around and looked. He gave Vera a surprised look.

Vera stood there seemingly confused for a moment and immediately after that she hugged Eli, who had just run to her.

“Hristina,” Vera called me and, while pointing at me, said, “This is my other daughter,” with a kind of hidden defiance.

Eli kept touching the children on their heads and hands. I really didn’t know how to behave or what to do. That whole situation, although I didn’t know why, bothered me. After saying goodbye to the man and the children, I took a closer look at him. It seemed to me that he was looking at Vera with too much tenderness.

Vera suddenly became impatient. She patted the children one more time and we parted ways. We went home. She didn’t tell us anything about the man on the way home, and instinctively we felt that we shouldn’t ask. Eli and I agreed not to tell father either and we didn’t.

If it was important we were sure Vera would tell him herself.

That evening, as well as several other times, I wondered about why Vera didn’t have children with my father. She didn’t look that old to me and I didn’t think age was a problem. Maybe my father didn’t want any more children, thinking it would be better for our sake.

Sometimes I thought that if a sibling had been born, it wouldn’t have been awkward. At least that’s what I thought now that we had become close to Vera.

In the days that followed I got the feeling that Vera wanted to tell me something but couldn’t find a suitable moment to do it. I thought it had something to do with the man we’d met but I wasn’t sure.

A week had passed and I had almost forgotten about it when, one evening, Vera covering us in bed as usual before going to sleep, said, “I want to tell you a true story tonight.” Eli and I perked up our ears curiously and listened carefully.

“There was a time when a brother and a sister were born to a family,” began Vera. We could sense great excitement in her voice, so great that she whispered some words.

The little sister was older. They lived very happily in their home.

The children were loved very much. The girl loved her friends, both older and younger, and all the children in the world. The girl and her little brother grew older and older. The girl had almost grown into a woman and thought that when she got married she would have many, many children and that she would love and care for them.

This was probably why the girl decided to be a teacher, to work with children. At first that wish came true. She became a teacher and the students loved her and she loved them all. She wanted to live with their sorrows and joys and help them in their first steps in life.” Vera paused at this point, seemingly finding it difficult to continue.

It seemed to me that she hesitated wondering if she should continue to tell the story.

“When that girl finished her teacher’s training and became a teacher, she fell in love with a young man who she’d known for a long time.