Granny Dan

“I promise you, Danina, I'll come soon, no matter what the situation here. Nothing will stop me.” He read her mind and reassured her in the car on the way to the ship. It made her feel sick with worry to leave him, especially knowing he'd be traveling to Siberia with the Czar and Czarina and their children, and then back to St. Petersburg again.

He helped her board the ship, and settled her into the cabin. She was to share it with another woman, but she hadn't arrived yet, and Danina chose the bunk she wanted. But she barely left Nikolai's side and was suddenly dreading the crossing, and said so. Without him, she would be desperately lonely, and constantly afraid for him.

“I'll miss you too,” he said, smiling lovingly at her. “Every moment. Take good care of yourself, my darling. I'll be there in no time.” She walked back up to the deck with him when the boat horn sounded to warn visitors to go ashore, and he stood holding her for a long moment. It no longer mattered to either of them who saw them. In their own eyes, they were man and wife. “I love you. Remember that. I'll come as soon as I can. Give my love to our cousin. He's a bit dull, but very kind. You'll like him.”

“I'm going to miss you dreadfully,” Danina said, with tears in her eyes, unable to hold them back.

“I know,” he said softly, “so will I.” He kissed her long and hard then as the boat horn sounded for the last time, and they began to remove the gangplanks.

“Let me stay with you,” she said breathlessly in his arms, trying suddenly to convince him. “I don't want to leave you. Perhaps they'd let me come to Siberia with you.” She would have done anything to stay with him.

“They'd never let you, Danina, you know that.” He didn't want to tell her it was dangerous, but that was not a secret to them either. He wanted her safe in Vermont now, no matter how much he wanted to be with her.

“Just remember how much I love you,” he reminded her. “Remember that until I join you. I love you more than anything in life, Danina Petroskova….”It was the last time he would ever call her that. They had already agreed that in Vermont she would use his name, Obrajensky, so no one would ever know they weren't married.

“I love you so much, Nikolai.” And as she said it, instinctively she touched her locket. It was there, safely at her neck, beneath her sweater.

“I'll see you soon,” he promised for a last time, kissed her quickly, and then hurried down the last gangplank, as she went to the rail and watched him leap to the dock and stand there, watching her.

“I love you!” she shouted. “Be careful!!” She waved at him and he waved back, mouthing “I love you” at her. And moments later, the big ship began to move slowly from the dock as she felt her heart pound, and wondered why she had been stupid enough to let him convince her to leave without him. Everything about it felt wrong to her, but she knew she had to be brave now, for his sake. They had been through so much together, she could do just a little more, let him finish his work here, give his last to the Imperial family, and then join her in Vermont, to begin their life together as man and wife.

She waved to him until she could barely see him anymore. He was still standing there, waving at her, tall and proud and strong, the man who had won her heart two years before, and whom she knew she would love forever.

“I love you, Nikolai,” she whispered into the wind, and then stood there for a long time, with tears running down her cheeks, thinking of him and holding her locket. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. He was right. They had so much to look forward to, so much to be thankful for, so much waiting for them in Vermont. It was all beginning. She had no reason to cry, except that in a place in her heart she was desperately afraid that she had just seen him for the last time. But there was no reason to think that. It was foolish, she told herself, as she looked up at the sky and saw the last gulls flying past. She could not lose him now. It could not happen. And with a sigh, and a last glance at her homeland, thinking of him, she walked slowly down to her cabin. She could not lose Nikolai, she told herself. No matter what happened to them, she would always love him, there was no way they could lose each other now.

Epilogue

The answers, as they always are, were right in my backyard. I had the letters translated, and they were all love letters from Nikolai Obrajen-sky to my grandmother. They covered a span of time, and told a story that touched my heart, almost as much as it had touched hers for a lifetime. The letters explained it all very clearly.

The rest I learned from two of her friends, neighbors, when I went back to Vermont the following summer to see the house, and spend a week there with my children and my husband.