Half Life

could stop feeling so ill, I might just keep pushing toward it. I might eventually get there.
I CONTINUED GOING TO WORK EACH MORNING AT THE KAMINSKIS, simply because I did not have the option not to. We needed my salary to afford our apartment and food, and I could not expect Kaz to work any harder when already he was teaching during the day and then learning with Hipolit, too. After dark he came home with a stack of exams to grade and a pile of mathematics books and papers from Hipolit to read.
Hela returned to Warsaw for a monthlong break in April, and both she and Papa begged me to come home and spend some time resting there with them. But I could not afford not to go to work, and as much as I longed for the warmth of Papa and my sister and Warsaw, I wrote them and told them only a half-truth: Kaz could not survive alone in Loksow without me.
The whole truth was, I often lay in bed at night, alone, while he worked by candlelight at our table. I could hear the pages turning, turning beneath his eager fingers, the noise of it magnified, heightened, the way all my senses were with this growing baby inside of me.
Some nights I wanted to stand up and yell at him to stop. I wanted to beg him to come to bed, to hold on to me and steady my belly with his warm hands, to take some of the brunt of this discomfort onto himself. Or to do something, anything, to make me feel better. But I never did that. There was nothing real he could do for me anyway, and I bit back the urge to yell. To act upset with him. To demand something from him. What could he possibly give me that would take this awful sickness away?
And then there was the strangest thing of all: though I had not desired a baby, and though I constantly felt ill, I already felt this burgeoning love for my own child that grew and grew inside of me day by day, in between moments of sickness: delicate and ephemeral, like a bubble.
WHEN I WAS ABOUT SIX MONTHS ALONG, KAZ CAME HOME early one evening. It was the first time I’d seen him before dark in weeks, and his sudden presence both surprised and annoyed me. It was a Wednesday, and I was trying to force down some broth before I left to go to Agata’s for class. I had spent most of the day lying on the floor of the Kaminskis’ nursery, allowing Jan and Jedrek to climb on me at will. My body was sore and heavy, and my mind longed for both the stimulation of class tonight and to be with my friends, especially Joanna who was also expecting a baby. As soon as Kaz walked in, I knew he was going to ask me not to go, and that I was going to have to muster up all my energy to argue with him.
“You’re home early,” I said, forcing a smile. I hoisted my heavy body out of the chair and stepped toward him for a quick kiss. He tasted strangely of vodka, and the mere hint of it turned my stomach. I inhaled, then exhaled slowly, hoping the little bit of broth I’d managed would stay down.
“Kadi told me she has been worried about you the last few Wednesday nights. You aren’t well enough right now to be traipsing around the city, and for illegal classes no less,” Kaz said, his words slightly slurred.
I wondered how much vodka he’d drunk and who with. But I didn’t ask because there were so many things that bothered me in what he’d just said, it was too much to also worry about how he’d said it. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply again, trying to calm myself down before I responded. I knew he might see Kadi from time to time, as he spent so much time now with her father, but the very idea of the two of them discussing me, behind my back—that is what bothered me most. Thinking they knew what was best for me, that they had talked about it even. It was infuriating. Kadi was supposed to be my friend. She was supposed to have secrets with me, not with Kaz.
I went back to the table and choked down another few spoonfuls of broth, as if to emphasize my point. I forced myself to swallow, pushing back the reflex to gag. My stomach churned, and it would be so easy to do what he wanted. Stay here, with him. But once the baby was born it would be harder to attend classes. Maybe impossible. I needed to go while I still could. “I am perfectly well,” I said, defiantly.
“Kadi said you would say that.” I didn’t like the way he said her name, like she belonged to him, not to me. But then he sighed, walked over, and kissed the top of my head. “At least let me walk you there and home tonight, all right, kochanie? You know I worry about you.”
I softened at the feel of his warm lips on my head and the sweet notion in his voice that he only wanted to care for me, only wanted what was best for me. He didn’t wish to hold me back, he only wished to keep me well and whole and safe. And besides, I hadn’t really seen him now in weeks. The very idea of a walk with my husband, on a warm spring evening—for a few moments, the swell of nausea abated.
“Yes,” I told him, feeling more agreeable than I had in a long time. “I would like that very much.”
AGATA LIVED ONLY THREE BLOCKS AWAY, BUT KAZ AND I TOOK our time. He held on to my hand, and for the beginning of our walk, my body felt lighter again, my mind freer. I