18

Mid-September marked the end of the summer restaurant season.

The crowds changed, and Andrew began working in the afternoons without Dmitri. The raven-haired boy had enrolled in the dance program at NYU, limiting his hours at the Tea Room to weekends.

Dmitri’s stories and warnings had prepared Andrew for the inevitable.

Niko and Cyril began talking about a road trip, the sort of excursion that Dmitri warned him about, and Andrew’s sudden silence bred agitation.

“Now what’s wrong?” Niko asked.

Andrew rose from the kitchen table without answering, and Niko followed him to the shoe pile by the coat rack. “Where’re you going, Andrej?”

“Back to my room.” He slipped into his untied sneakers. “I don’t want any part of this.”

“What’re you talking about?” Niko asked, pulling him into his arms.

“I know what you’re doing,” said Andrew. “I don’t want any part of it.”

Niko kissed his shoulder. “You’re out,”

Then, the door down the hall opened, ushering in a smiling Sash whose happiness gave him a natural glow despite his deadly reputation. His lone blue eye glowed with mirth, and before Andrew knew what was happening, he found himself drawn to the swell of Sash’s pectorals under his black turtleneck.

Sash kicked off his shoes and embraced Niko, kissing the man’s cheek before staring down at Andrew. He opened his arms, and when Andrew didn’t step into them, he shrugged and stepped away, laughing.

Cyril, Radek, and Tadeusz crowded around, their noisy huddle migrating to the kitchen. After downing a shot of vodka, Sash slapped a heavily taped paper bag onto the kitchen table. Tadeusz snatched it up and handed it to Cyril without opening it.

Lively discussion in Polish followed, with everyone sharing the past month’s experiences, no matter how mundane, until the overall mood settled.

“I’ve decided on a change of scenery,” Sash declared, his baritone laced with jollity. “It’s time to name my replacement.”

Andrew watched from the living room as they soaked in his words.

“I’m leaving the city in October,” he said. “Radeki will lead things.”

Niko beamed at his brother with pride, all seeming agreeable to the choice. One thing about these men was that if they had an issue with something, they would say so.

Cyril raised his tiny glass, and the others followed suit, saying Radek’s name enthusiastically as their little cups tapped. When the old man walked to Andrew, he joined the toast with his soda can.

After this, they discussed the road trip. Andrew wanted no part, so he fired up the gas burner on the stovetop and pulled some peeled potatoes from the fridge. After slicing them on an accordion cutter, he melted butter into a pan. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but frying some potatoes would keep him from hearing their plans.

“We’re going to hit the Eagle Point development,” Cyril said in Polish. “Tadeshi got the truck. We need a driver.”

“Samil,” Niko suggested.

“No,” said Radek, who then spoke Polish. “What’s his problem?”

Andrew spoke up. “His problem is that he doesn’t want to be involved.”

Sash chuckled, and Cyril grinned.

“He said he wants no part of it,” Nikola said.

“That’s fine,” Tadeusz spoke Polish. “But not Sam-Sam. He cannot be trusted.”

“You can find us a girl, yes, Tadeshi?” Cyril asked.

“When did Andrej say he wanted no part of it?” Sash asked softly.

Andrew didn’t look up from the frying pan. “Today, when I first heard about it.”

After a beat, Sash asked, “Dmitri told you of our trips?”

“Yes, he did,” said Andrew.

“I love this boy. He’s so honest.” Sash began laughing, and everyone joined him. “Why don’t you lie, Andrej?”

Andrew pushed the softening potato slices around the pan with a spatula.

“Lies take work,” he said. “And I don’t work for free.”

The stink of Old Spice mingled with the potatoes as Cyril approached.

“You still work with Dimi?” the old man asked.

“He only works weekends since starting school,” said Andrew.

Cyril’s thin lips spread. “He’s back in school?”

“He is, yeah.” Andrew smiled at him. “He’s still dancing,”

“Andrej likes to dance.” Sash’s voice rose above the others. “Weren’t you going to school before you came here?”

Andrew turned down the heat when the edges around the potatoes began browning.

“I decided life would make a better educator,” he said. “Not that it’s any of your business,”

Cyril stepped back as Sash approached.

“You’re right. It’s none of my business.” Liquored breath entered their space. “But Andrej, neither are we any of yours,”

“Sascha Stasiak,” Cyril scolded softly.

Andrew pulled the pan from the burner and walked to the front door without a word.

♪

On the train back to Manhattan, he regretted dangling Dmitri’s life in front of Cyril. His discussion of the gang’s affairs with Dmitri naturally put Sash on the defensive. Andrew longed for the Pilar then; he hadn’t played it in weeks.

Weren’t you going to school before you came here?

That bald bastard needed to mind his business.

Andrew stepped off the train at Cooper Union, staring at the faces of the less shadowy passers-by.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“The fuck!” he cried, throwing his fist.

Nikola’s arm collided with it.

Andrew found everyone on the street gazing at him.

“Don’t ever walk up on me like that!”

The taller man seemed undaunted. “Sash thinks you talked about Cyril to Dmitri,”

“I didn’t talk, I listened!”

“He said that you and Dmitri,” Niko lowered his voice, conscious of everyone staring. “Did you spend the night together?”

A mix of anger and amusement erupted within Andrew. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” He studied Niko’s long, pouty face. “You’re screwing around with him, and you accuse me of doing the same?”

Niko moved into him and whispered, “Did Dimi say that?”

Andrew shook his head before pushing past him.

Sash waited in his car with the window down and his one eye fixed sternly. Andrew marched up to it and snapped, “I’m not your problem, Glass Eye, so fuck off.”