“Now you have the perfect excuse,” Cassie finished for her.
“Now your Bobby needs you,” Anna said. “And I think you need her, too. Why don’t we pack up the basics? Your clothes, toiletries, and any food that would spoil. I’ll come back with you when you’re ready to get Henry’s things.”
“I’ve already done that,” Cassie said. “Last month, Henry’s mom came down and helped me go through his clothes.”
“Oh, well, that’s one thing done then.” Anna’s voice rose an octave.
The all too familiar guilt crept up on Cassie. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know you’d offered to help before. I wasn’t ready then. But it got to a point where I couldn’t breathe with all of that hanging over me. I had to get it out, and Dottie happened to be visiting when that moment came.”
Anna’s lips pressed together, and she wrapped Cassie in a hug. “Oh, my sweet girl.”
Cassie hugged her mom back and melted into her, just like she had when she was a kid. Unexpected pinpricks of relief tickled her scalp, and she sighed. “Okay, Mom. I’ll come home.”
Anna pulled back and gave a tremulous smile. “This will be best for everyone. You’ll see.” She hesitated, then went on. “Honestly, I’m worried about Bobby. Even before the accident, she’s been… different. You know how she is. Always moving, always working. But now, I’ll catch her sitting at the table, staring off in a daze like she’s in another place, talking to herself in Ukrainian.”
“What’s she saying?”
“I don’t know,” Anna replied. “Usually she won’t talk to me when she’s like that. It’s like she’s so deep in her memories that she’s not aware of what’s going on around her. The other day, I asked what she was thinking about, and when she finally responded, all she said was ‘sunflowers’。”
“Maybe she’s thinking about what she wants to plant in her flowerbeds.”
“No.” Anna drummed her fingers on the table. “She’s never planted sunflowers. She always told me they made her too sad.”
2
KATYA
Ukraine, September 1929
“Do you girls want a turn?” Uncle Marko asked. He held up his pride and joy, the only camera in their small village of Sonyashnyky. Sunlight glistened off the lens and Uncle Marko pulled out a handkerchief to polish it for the twentieth time that day. He nodded towards the house, which everyone else had used as a backdrop, but Katya’s gaze danced over to the bobbing heads of the sunflowers behind him. The brilliance of the cloudless blue sky complemented the golden orbs of the sunflowers in a color combination so rich and beautiful it made Katya’s heart ache.
“Well?” He shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket.
“Yes! But over here, please.” Katya grabbed her older sister’s hand. “Come on, Alina. Mama wanted us to get a photograph together today.”
Alina reached up and smoothed the dark wisps escaping Katya’s braid. “Let me just fix your hair.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Katya dragged Alina across the yard. She wanted to get this picture out of the way now so she didn’t forget and earn her mother’s ire, and they would find no better backdrop than the sunflower field.
“All right, but you must smile,” Alina said. “I don’t want you looking sour–faced.”
Katya scowled and dropped Alina’s hand. “I’m never sour–faced.”
Alina’s mouth twisted into a quirk as she straightened Katya’s shirt. “Of course you’re not.”
“Scoot closer,” Uncle Marko instructed as he turned the camera to face them.
Alina wove her arm into Katya’s. “Come here.” She tilted her head toward Katya’s. “No matter how much I annoy you, you’re stuck with me. Sisters forever.”
Katya’s irritation vanished at hearing the phrase, which their mother had reminded them of whenever they’d fought growing up. You may as well get along. You’ll be sisters forever. It had become a joke between them, uttered whenever one irritated the other, and never failed to reduce the tension.
The camera clicked, and Uncle Marko grinned. “Perfect!”
The first soft strains of accordion and fiddle music trickled down the road, indicating the groom and his party were approaching, and inciting a frenzied, last-minute burst of energy. Katya pulled away from her sister as women shrieked, ribbons flew, and dishes of food appeared on every flat surface. She scooped up a basket of sunflowers and ducked low to avoid her aunt’s flailing arms. Escaping the chaos, she took her place with Alina and their cousin Sasha behind the fragrant, flower-laden table that blocked the door to Sasha’s house. Katya set her basket next to the others and clasped her hands together to still their trembling. Through squinted eyes, she strained to identify the men marching down the dirt road toward them.