But she scrambled in beside Katya and grabbed her hand, just like when they were young, and they lay back and stared up at the sky.
“Well, your dreams did come true,” Katya said.
Alina rubbed her belly. “Yes, I married Kolya, and I’m soon to be a mother. In the midst of everything else, at least I have that.” She took Katya’s hand and pressed her hand against her stomach. “Sometimes I think I can feel her moving, but Mama said it’s too soon.”
“I still can’t believe you’re having a baby. Mama’s so excited.”
Alina sighed. “It’s good she has this to focus on.”
Instead of Tato.
The unspoken words hung in the air, and Katya stilled as a rush of emotion washed over her. “Do you feel him here? Tato?”
Alina closed her eyes and nodded. “I miss him so much.”
“Me, too,” Katya said. “But it’s odd. I’m not sad here. I feel safe. Happy, almost. Like Tato is here with us.”
“That’s because these sunflowers connect us to our fondest family memories. And as long as we have those, we will always have each other.”
Katya squeezed her sister’s hand. “Sisters forever.”
“Girls! Where are my tomatoes?” Mama called from the house.
“Coming, Mama!” Alina called out.
“It’s like when we were children.” Katya smiled.
Alina gave her a quick hug, then they giggled as they clambered over each other in an attempt to get out fast.
“You still go in there?” Mama smiled as they ran toward her. “I thought you were far too old for such daydreams.”
“It’s a happy place, Mama. It feels good to be in there.” Katya kissed her on the cheek and handed her the tomatoes.
She snorted. “Perhaps I should spend more time in there then. Come, this varenyky will not make itself.”
Mama had the dough mixed and two bowls of filling ready on the table.
“Both meat and potatoes?” Katya asked. “What’s the occasion?”
“Kolya brought home some pork that we need to use up before it’s confiscated. And we have potatoes and onions from the garden. With those things on hand, how could we not make them?”
“Do we have any butter?” Alina asked.
Mama pulled a small jar out from under her bed. “Just enough to fry the onions.”
Katya whooped with excitement. After the skimpy meals of late, varenyky with onions fried in butter would be a special treat.
They sat around the table and made varenyky the way Mama had taught them, and the way her mother had taught her. Katya rolled the dough flat, then cut circles from it using a tin cutter. She held up her left hand as if she were holding a cup, then rested a circle of flattened dough on top of it. She took a spoonful of the potato mixture, because it was her favorite, and pushed it into the space where the dough sagged in between her thumb and fingers. With a flick of her wrist, she moved the varenyky on its side and, after dabbing her fingers in a cup of water, pinched the ends together to form a perfect crescent of stuffed dough.
She set her handiwork down next to the others. Katya’s, nearly as perfect as Mama’s, made Alina’s look like a mangled mess.
Alina sighed. “I will never be a good varenyky maker.”
“You overstuff them,” Mama said. “And your dough isn’t rolled out thin enough. Watch Katya. She reminds me of my mother. Her varenyky are all uniform. That’s when you know you’ve got it.”
Katya flushed with pride at her mother’s praise. “Don’t worry, Alina. I think varenyky making might be the only thing I surpass you at. In everything else, you always win.”
Alina chuckled and leaned over to rest her head on Katya’s shoulder. “That’s not true, and you know it, but for today, I’ll take it, little sister.”
That night, Katya dreamed of her father. They walked through their wheat field together. She ran her hands over the stalks of wheat as they shimmered and waved, a moving creature rolling across the hills behind the house. It was a perfect crop.
“Try some.” Tato held out a handful of kernels.
She poured some in her mouth and bit down. Still chewy. No telltale crunch between her teeth signaling ripeness.
“Not yet,” she said.
Her father smiled sadly. “You see, Katya. A farmer plants and nurtures today, so he can harvest a good crop in the future. You must always look to the future.”
“I miss you, Tato.”
“I miss you, too.” Her father cradled her face in his hands. “I wish I were there to help you. Things will get worse before they get better, but you are strong. Just make it through today and hope that tomorrow will be better. Can you do that?”