Her pain was more guilt than sorrow.
She had not loved Helge.
She walked down the aisle, but Arkhip’s gaze never shifted from the window. “It must be—” she said.
Arkhip startled. He knocked over his tea, what was left of it. The liquid pooled and spilled over the table edge and dripped onto the carpeted floor.
“I am so sorry.” Maria handed him a few of the napkins she’d grabbed at the samovar. She bent to blot the carpet, smelling peppermint and honey.
“No. No worries,” Arkhip assured her. “Clumsy of me. There was not much left anyway, and it had gone cold.” He cleaned up the spill and righted the cup. “Please,” he said and offered her the chair across from him.
“I was going to say, it is either a very complex problem you are solving or a memory you recall vividly.”
“It would seem we are the only two awake on the train, again. I wondered if you might come.”
She sipped her tea and stalled, considering his comment. The train rocked and gave an occasional jerk when the car came to a turn, but, overall, the ride was pleasant and the sound of the train peaceful. Had Arkhip been thinking of her? She dismissed the thought; in a few short hours she would leave this train and her country and never see this man again. “So, what was it?”
“What was what?”
“A complex problem you were trying to solve or a memory you recall vividly.”
He smiled but did not provide an answer, at least not with his voice. His eyes, however, were telling. She had learned to read men’s eyes. He had been thinking of his deceased wife. “What brings you out here again?” he asked to change the subject.
“The same as you,” she said. “I can’t sleep. I don’t like to just lie in bed where my thoughts can do more damage than good.”
“I haven’t seen you during the days,” Arkhip said. “Are you and your husband enjoying the trip?”
“It has been very relaxing, thank you. And you? Is the trip everything you thought it would be?”
He seemed to give her question some thought, and his blue eyes sparkled again. He smiled. “I needed the time to think,” he said. “We don’t take enough time to really think, do we?”
“About your wife?” she asked.
“Yes. And my job. About retiring.”
“I was surprised when you told me. You are still young.”
He smiled, but this time pensive. “Some don’t think so, I’m afraid. The decision has been made for me. Those in power see me as an old dog unable or unwilling to learn new tricks. They want computer nerds.”
“What will you do?” she asked, then sipped her tea.
He glanced out the window before redirecting his attention to her. “I don’t know. That is the problem. I do not desire to sit in an empty apartment alone. Perhaps I will travel more if this trip turns out to be enjoyable.”
“Was this trip then a trial run, in anticipation of your retirement?”
“You might say that it was,” he said.
“I see. I am retiring as well,” she said.
“Are you?”
“And it was not exactly my idea either.”
“You know, then, how I feel. What is it you will do, in your retirement?”
She realized she, too, had no idea. Not a single thought came to her. “I don’t know. It’s scary, isn’t it? Not to know.”
“Yes. Some would call it a great adventure. I’m not one of them.”
“Nor am I. I suppose I will take my retirement as I have lived my life. One day at a time.”
“A sensible plan,” he said. “Very wise.”
They talked for another half hour and found they had still more in common. Neither had children. His wife could not give birth; they had contemplated adoption, but in the end chose to live as just the two of them, and they had found it surprisingly pleasant and fulfilling. Maria had not. She had always wished for children. They each had no siblings, and their parents were deceased. “A team of one,” Maria said, describing herself.
“Not much of a team,” Arkhip said. “Are we?”
“No,” she agreed. She checked her watch. They would approach Irkutsk soon. “I’d better be getting back.” She stood. Arkhip also moved as if to stand. “Don’t get up,” she said. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your thoughts.”
He stood anyway. “I would say ‘brightened.’” He bowed gently. “And a man who does not stand when a beautiful woman enters and departs will forever sit alone.”