"How would you like to go back to America?" Zoya asked her granddaughter.
"You mean to stay with Grandpa Art and Grandma Eunice again?" asked Marina.
Zoya chuckled. "Oh, no. There's a special school in New York City for performers. It's called the Julliard School, and its auditions for the freshman class next year are about to be held. Your cousin Sara has been playing the flute for their orchestra for the past three years. She'll be going into her senior year, and Maria says she'd be thrilled to have you there with her."
Marina had met her distant cousin Sara a handful of times. Sara had grown up with her nine brothers and sisters in Paris, and the flute had come as naturally to her as dancing had come to Marina. On her one visit to the older girl's home, Marina and Sara's younger sister, Lydia, had sneaked into Sara's room and tried on her make-up. Sara had been angry, of course, but she'd gotten over it quickly.
"But what about Mutti?"
"I've already discussed it with her, and she thinks it's a wonderful idea. The competition is stiff, but she and I both know how talented you are, and we think you have an excellent chance of making it in."
"New York City's a long way from Palm Beach, isn't it?"
"Yes. They're both on the East Coast, but New York City is in the North and Palm Beach is in the South. America is a very large country, Marina, much larger than France and Germany. You know that. You've seen maps."
"You used to live there a long time ago, before I was born, didn't you?"
"Yes. Your grandfather brought me there to live after we got married, and that's where your Uncle Nicky, your Uncle Matthew, and your mother were born."
"If I get accepted to Julliard, will I be close to where Uncle Matthew and Michael are?"
"Yes. New York and Massachusetts are both in New England." Marina's Uncle Matthew, who was just six years older than she was, and Sara's first cousin Michael both attended Harvard in Massachusetts.
"That would be great!"
The appointed day arrived, and Zoya traveled to Germany on the train to fetch her granddaughter. Marina hugged and kissed Sasha before riding to the train station with Martin. "Goodbye, sweetheart," Sasha told her daughter. "Good luck. I know you'll do well."
"Thanks, Mutti." Marina thought of her mother, confined to a wheelchair for almost fourteen years now. Did she ever wonder whether she could have become a ballerina herself if her life had turned out differently?
At the train station, she said goodbye to Martin and greeted her grandmother. Zoya embraced her, and the young girl smelled her perfume. On the train, Marina looked out the window, waving and blowing kisses to Martin until she couldn't see him anymore.
During the flight to New York, Zoya told her granddaughter about her own youth. "I began training with Madame Nostova in St. Petersburg when I was five years old," she said. "I always dreamed of running away to the Maryinsky. Then the Revolution happened, and we had to flee to Paris. My grandmother and I lived in a small apartment, and I danced for Diaghilev to support us."
Marina had always loved her grandmother's stories. She tried to imagine what it must have been like to live in Russia when there was still a Tsar, to be able to visit the Alexander Palace as if it were just like popping in to see a neighbor. Those days were gone forever, Marina knew, their memory kept alive only in the hearts of her Romanov cousins.
In New York City, they took a cab to a diner to eat, and then Zoya took Marina to see the New York branch of Countess Zoya. After looking around inside the store, they went to a motel to spend the night, planning to go to Julliard the following morning.
That night, Marina had a dream in which her distant cousins Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia, and Alexei were children again. A grand ball was being held in the Alexander Palace; many Russian noblemen and ladies were there, and 'Once Upon a December' was playing as Anastasia danced with her father, the Tsar. Marina's grandmother was there too, looking as she had when she was young, her dark, rich red hair cascading over her shoulders.
The following day, her confidence began to waver as she and her grandmother approached the imposing building. Watching the many other young people entering and exiting its doors made her feel tiny, like one lone ant in a giant bed. Determined not to let her insecurity show, she held her head high as she marched into the school with her grandmother.
At the entrance, a large sign on a plackard gave directions. Zoya and Marina walked down a long hallway to the room where the ballet auditions were being held.
The room was large and well lit, with floor length windows on one side. A barre went all along the wall on each side, and Marina saw dozens of young women around her age dressed in leotards and tights, like she was.
By the time Marina's turn came, her palms were sweating and her mouth felt as dry as paper. Ignoring the discomfort, she concentrated on her moves, performing them just as she'd rehearsed them for ages, and when she was finished, the room erupted in applause as she rushed to her grandmother's side.
"Did I do all right?"
"You did marvelously, dear," Zoya assured her. "I'm so proud of you!"
Marina returned to Julliard in late August as a full-time student. When the letter had come, she'd held her breath as she'd opened it, letting out a 'whoosh' of joy when she'd seen that she'd been accepted. Martin and Sasha had been happy for her as well, and the night before her departure, the family had gone out for a celebratory dinner. Tears had been in Sasha's eyes as she'd said goodbye to her older daughter, and Martin had given her an extra-long hug at the airport.
The flight to New York and taxi ride to the dormitories were uneventful, but once Marina was inside the large building, she felt lost until she heard someone call her name and turned to look into Sasha's smiling face.
"Our dorm's this way," the older girl told her. "Come on. I'll help you unpack."