The Summer Garden by Paullina Simons Page A

Brewster is bleeding,” he said.
    They rushed upstairs. Mrs. Brewster told them her son, newly returned from prison, beat her to get the rent money Alexander was paying. Tatiana tried to clean up the old lady with rags.
    “He’s not staying with me. He’s staying down the road with friends.” Could Alexander help her with her son? Since he’d been in prison too, he should understand how things were. “I don’t see you beatin’ your wife, though.” Could Alexander ask her son not to beat her anymore? She wanted to keep her rent money. “He’s just going to spend it on filthy drink, like always, and then get hisself into trouble. I don’t know what you was in for, but he was in the pen for assault with a deadly weapon. Drunken assault.”
    Alexander left to go next door to sit with Nick, but late that night he told Tatiana he was going to talk to Mrs. Brewster’s son.
    “No.”
    “Tania, I don’t like her either, but what kind of a fucked-up loser beats his own mother? I’m going to talk to him.”
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “No. You’re too tightly wound.”
    “I’m not tightly wound,” Alexander said slowly, into her back. “I’m just going to talk to him, that’s all, man to man. I’ll tell him beating his mother is not acceptable.” They were whispering in the dark, the beds pushed together, Anthony lightly snoring by Tatiana’s side.
    “And he says to you, screw you, mister. Stay out of my business. And then what?”
    “Good question. But perhaps he’ll be reasonable.”
    “You think so? He beats his mother to take her money!” Sighing, Tatiana twitched in the middle between her two men.
    “Well, we can’t just do nothing .”
    “Yes, we can. Let’s not ask for someone else’s trouble.” We’ve got plenty. She didn’t know how to bring up Sam Gulotta, cold terror gluing his name to her throat. She tried to keep thinking about someone else’s troubles. She didn’t want Alexander near that woman’s son. But what to do?
    “You’re right,” Tatiana finally said with a throat clearing. “We can’t do nothing. You know what? I think I’ll go and speak to him. I’m a woman. I’m little. I’ll talk to him nicely, the way I talk to everybody. He’s not going to get rough with me.”
    She felt Alexander stiffen behind her. “Are you joking?” he whispered. “He beats his mother ! Don’t even think of coming close to him.”
    “Shh. It’ll be okay. Really.”
    He turned her around to face him. “I’m serious,” he said, his eyes on her unblinking and intense. “Don’t take one step in his direction. Not one step . Because a syllable out of him against you, and he won’t be speaking to anyone ever again, and I’ll be in an American prison. Is that what you want?”
    “No, darling,” she said softly. He was talking! He was animated. He had raised his whispering voice! She kissed his face, kissed him and kissed him, until he kissed her back, his hands pacing over her nightgown.
    “Have I mentioned how much I hate you wearing clothes in my bed?”
    “I know, but there’s a little boy with us,” she whispered. “I can’t be naked next to him.”
    “You don’t fool me,” Alexander said heavily.
    “Darling, it’s the boy,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “Besides, my slip is made of silk, not burlap. Have you noticed I’m naked underneath?”
    Alexander slipped his hands under. “Why were you crying with Vikki?” Something cool and unwelcome got into his voice. “What, you miss your New York?”
    Guiltily Tatiana glanced at him. Lonely she glanced at him. “Why do you keep going next door every night?” she whispered, moaning lightly.
    Alexander took his hands away. “Come on. You’ve seen Nick’s family. I’m the only one he can talk to. He’s got nobody besides me.”
    Me neither, Tatiana thought, the hot hurt of it burning her eyes.
    She couldn’t say anything to Alexander about Sam Gulotta and the State Department. There was no more room on his