The Confession

28

Her hangover lasted all Sunday, and she stayed in bed, the lights out and the blinds drawn. I brought water and lunch, but whatever she took in she immediately threw up.

“Don’t tell me she drank last night,” said Agnes over breakfast.

“Sometimes it happens.”

“Maybe I should start drinking.”

“Maybe you should take Pavel out for a walk.”

Magda was able to get a small dinner to stay down, and as she ate in the dark room she asked what she had said last night. “I don’t remember at all. But we spoke.”

“You didn’t say anything, really.”

“I said something.”

“Do you want to say something now?”

She considered it, frowning through the pain. “We should talk, yes, but I can’t. Not in this state.”

“Have you figured out what you want?”

She looked at me, her expression still painful. “I wish I knew, Ferenc. God, you don’t know how much I wish that.”

I pulled the blanket to her chin.

Agnes was rolling a ball across the living room floor for Pavel to bring back, but the dog was uninterested. She stood up, retrieved it from the corner, and came back to try again. “I think we need a new dog. Pavel just isn’t working out.”

I sat on the sofa. “What kind of dog would work out?”

“Something larger, that’s for sure. Pavel can’t keep up when I run.”

“Maybe we could make some wheels for him.”

“Wheels and an engine.”

“Tell me about school. Is it going better this year?”

She nodded into her chest. “Better than last year, yeah. I learned about cosmonauts.”

“Cosmo what? ”

“Cosmonauts,” she repeated just as incomprehensibly. “People who go into space. The USSR has big plans for putting us in space. Communes on the Moon.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I said. “I’m still looking into the French school. But you’ve got to pass that exam.”

“Maybe I should stay where I am.”

Her hair needed a trim. “I thought we’d decided to give it another try.”

“I’ve made friends this year. I don’t want to just leave them.”

Then she pulled her foot toward herself and started playing with her toes. You learn a child’s behaviors so they become simple clues to the inner life. I wanted this school for her, but knew that nothing would come of it if she didn’t want to go. “What’s his name?”

“What?”

“The name of the boy you’re in love with.”

“Daddy.” She glared at me, but her mouth was smiling.