Saving Anna Karenina
Part 45
Start with Part 1, and read a short synopsis of the original book.
“Anna?” said a voice from behind. It was Joan, distinctly hoarse. Anna smiled at the thought of telling Joan what just happened. The office was occupied, so they sat alone in Anna’s room.
“How are you?” Joan set herself on the edge of Anna’s bed, crossed her legs, and clasped her hands together.
“Marvelous,” said Anna, beaming.
“Well that’s good to hear! How did this change come about?”
“I’m complete, at last.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve found my prince. I won’t be unloved any longer.”
Joan frowned. “Explain this to me.”
“Matyas. We’re going to be together.” Anna’s facial muscles were relaxed, and she looked past Joan, as if towards a spirit.
Joan took a deep breath and started to speak, but then hesitated.
“A lot of people develop feelings for other patients when they’re in here. There’s something about being cooped up here, dealing with all these emotions, that makes it really easy for people to be intimate with each other. There’s nothing to hide.” She paused. “But that’s not why you’re here. You’re here to deal with you, not get all wrapped up in someone else — figuratively, and literally. And really, what are the chances that a relationship forged in a psych ward will survive on the outside? Matyas is going back to South Africa.”
“He doesn’t have to go back. If someone comes to collect him here, he can stay,” said Anna.
Joan snorted. “And who is that person going to be, you?”
“Of course I would collect him. I’m not going to leave him here for another three months so he can sleep all day and take unnecessary medicines.”
“The way you put that, he sounds more like your child than your boyfriend,” said Joan.
“Not at all,” said Anna, raising her head with irritation. Americans were so hostile to love, except for Danielle Stone. Joan had dissected the matter like a crude anatomist with a frog and scalpel, missing the spirit entirely. “What do Americans have against love? Why so much suspicion towards vital connection?”
“And what about your child, Anna? What about Seryozha? Have you thought about him while you were planning your future with Matyas?”
“Of course I have. I think he would be much better off with a father.”
“A father?” Joan took a deep breath and tipped her head to the side. “I think you’re a moth to flame.”
“What do you propose, Joan, that I live without love forever?”
“Not forever, Anna, but at least until you can establish a life for yourself, and care for your son, and care for yourself, without the potential drama of a new relationship. You need a stable routine when you leave here.”
“And life without love is stable?” Anna scoffed, and then put her hand over her mouth to try and take back the sound.
“You have to find balance, Anna. People don’t die because they aren’t in love. They carry on, satisfying themselves in other ways — through work, through sports, through their social network, their children, their hobbies, their communities. Love comes and love goes.”
So Anna was supposed to play polo instead of take up with an adorable, loving young man in search of a wife? “You can’t expect me to become like you, or like a man, playing sport all day and working. I am from a different culture, a different time.”
“Cooking is actually a very centering activity. Have you tried it?”
Anna shook her head.
“Well it’s your life, Anna. I can’t live it for you. You’ll get out of here sooner rather than later, and then you can do whatever you want. If you want to act like a princess, go ahead. But I guarantee you won’t find fulfillment until you learn how to look after yourself.”
“I can look after myself just fine,” said Anna.
“Okay, if that’s what you believe.” Joan stared at Anna, waiting for her to doubt herself.
Anna didn’t.
This is part 45 of a serialized novella being published each Thursday. It is a speculative sequel to Leo Tolstoy’s novel, Anna Karenina.
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44
I’m the author of Oh, the Places Where You’ll Have a Nervous Breakdown.
