Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 94.2: 1968, Georgina

Chapter 94.2: 1968, Georgina

Sasha and I were finishing up some supper. He’d made a quick asparagus fry with chopped carrots and a little chicken, a strange sauce with it that I didn’t question. It had tasted good, though, filling. A complete meal in one pan. I kind of wanted to take some of the leftover sauce on my plate with my finger, but I resisted.

We’d been talking throughout the meal about Anton Chekhov, or at least Sasha had been. I’d never read any of his stuff, but Sasha was telling me about the conversation he’d had with Ganya the other day about a play this Chekhov had apparently written called “Uncle Vanya” He'd brought up some points Ganya had said about it. I wasn’t really interested in the Chekhov part of it, but more so how passionate Sasha was getting about the things the man he loved had said. It gladdened my heart so much, how he could be so happy with him.

Now we were quiet, silently enjoying how full we were. That chicken was sitting in just the right spot to make me sleepy, like only the best of Thanksgiving meals ever could. Had Ganya taught Sasha to cook like this? He was so good for Sasha. Just the person he’d needed so long ago, to rein him in and settle the hell down. To help him make sense of the world, one educational book at a time.

Sasha started speaking again, and I just listened, wanting to hear more. But it wasn’t about Chekhov this time.

“Should I leave these dishes for Paulie to clean? Or would that piss him off? I’d better clean them.”

“Yeah, you’d better.”

“Right. After this I’ve gotta skedaddle. Ganya’s taking me out to go see ‘Uncle Vanya’. Did I tell you that? He got the tickets. I don’t get why he’s so inclined to show me it, but I am interested because he’s been talking about it non-stop all week. But why see it when I already know how it ends?”

“What? But wait.” Wait a minute.

“Yeah?” He did a half twirl with his plate to the sink, letting it drop in there with a big clatter that made me jump, but I composed myself.

“If you’re leaving then who’s going to be here with me? Paulie’s working tonight.”

“Is he? I thought he took off. He said his boss is making him go to Long Island or something, long trip. He said he’d be wiped out so he was gonna sleep after he came back from that.”

His boss? What was he talking about?

“Hmm,” Sasha ruminated to himself, taking my plate and letting that clatter into the sink, too. In a split second the water was on and he’d taken up the sponge and the soap. Over the noise of this, my thoughts were wandering.

I didn’t like where they were going, because I was remembering something else that wasn’t pleasant. No way Sasha didn’t know, but from our conversation earlier today…about the records…

“He went to Long Island? He didn’t tell me that. He just went to work this morning.” This was all I could think to say, wanting to know more but not knowing how to get it.

“Yeah, something about painting houses. I don’t really know. Apparently they got stripped from all that rain we had. He was talking a lot. I told him alright already, just go. Genesis and Cha Cha can hold their own pretty well, I guess. Cha Cha’s been working really hard lately.”

But Paulie wasn’t actually working. I knew that. His painting job was a front for seeing Avi, he’d said. Was it actually true, then? The floaty, strange feeling was back.

“I’m gonna go to the club after the play, though. Just to check up on things. Give them a hand, whatever. Its Monday anyway, so it won’t be too incredibly busy. I just worry because Cha Cha is so young, too much responsibility. I’ll give him a hand. Carl’s there and tries to make it easy on him, but sometimes it gets to be too much. But as I said, its Monday so maybe it will be okay.”