When I saw Lyudmila Petrovna’s number on my phone screen, my heart skipped a beat—but not from joy. My sense of impending trouble proved prophetic: within five minutes, our peaceful summer idyll collapsed like a house of cards. And Maxim and I had been dreaming so much about taking our four-year-old daughter, Mashenka, to the seaside…
My husband’s relatives had always been a mystery to me. That noisy crowd regularly descended upon us with their problems: someone needed treatment at one of the capital’s hospitals, someone else needed a place to stay while handling important business, and now they had even started sending teenagers our way. Maxim silently tolerated all of it because blood ties meant a great deal to him. I gritted my teeth, realizing that I had chosen this man together with all his baggage.
“Liza, darling, please don’t refuse me. Let my Katyenka stay with you for a month or so,” his aunt pleaded.
At first, my husband tried to resist, referring to our vacation plans, but Lyudmila Petrovna was relentless. Her daughter was preparing to apply to a culinary vocational school, and our city seemed like the ideal launching point. Maxim surrendered and brought me the bad news.
We argued for two days. I was furious, but gradually gave way in the face of my husband’s sincere remorse. Love defeated common sense—that seemed to be a woman’s fate.
Over eight years of marriage, we had grown accustomed to each other like two river stones polished smooth by the current. Maxim held a respectable position as a lead developer at a large company. We were not destined to become fabulously wealthy, but we earned enough to live comfortably. Mashenka’s birth had made my husband the happiest man in the world. He immediately bought a car to make motherhood easier for me and drove us to the country house and on short trips.
But the years flew by unnoticed. After I returned from maternity leave, there was almost no time left for recreation. For five years, we had not gone anywhere farther than our country property. And what kind of vacation was that? It was nothing but work: pulling weeds, harvesting crops, and battling Colorado potato beetles over the potato plants.
That summer, I dreamed of the sea. Mashenka was finally old enough for a long journey, and Maxim and I had earned the right to a proper vacation beneath the southern sun. Then, like a bolt from the blue, came Lyudmila Petrovna’s call asking us to take in her niece.
I had nothing against Katya personally—I simply did not know her. I had met her mother only a couple of times at family celebrations. I remembered her as a large, coarse woman of indeterminate age, with chemically purple hair, tasteless plastic jewelry, and massive rings on her plump fingers. She ate heartily, laughed loudly, and left a thoroughly depressing impression on me.
Maxim agreed that the girl could stay with us for a month. During that time, she was supposed to sort out her studies and secure a place in the dormitory. Her mother promised that her daughter would move out afterward. Thinking that one day I might also have to ask someone for help with Mashenka when she was older, I reluctantly agreed to accept the unwanted guest.
Katya arrived on Saturday evening carrying a battered little suitcase. She was a thin sixteen-year-old girl with ash-blonde hair and striking emerald-green eyes. She greeted us politely. Naturally, after her journey, we sat her down at the table. The appetite of that reed-thin creature turned out to be truly wolfish—she ate more than my husband and I could have managed together. I was amazed by the contradiction, but smiled hospitably. Youth was only beginning its journey, and it was the duty of adults to help.
During the first few days, Katya caught up on sleep after the exhaustion of travel and her recent exams. She also consumed food in astonishing quantities, turning my kitchen into a full-scale food-production facility. It was not that I begrudged her the food, but my exhaustion was building—I still had work as well. We had to urgently postpone our vacation until July because of the relatives who had suddenly landed on our heads. Maxim also quarreled with his boss, but managed to move his leave to the end of the month.
By the third day, the presence of a stranger in the house had become especially noticeable.
“Katya, could you tidy the room a little?” I asked as gently as possible.
The girl obeyed, although she grimaced with displeasure.
“All right, Aunt Liza.”
“When do you have to go to the vocational school?”
“On Friday. I need to fill out some documents and speak with the teachers.”
“I see. Are you nervous?”
“Not really. I did well on the exams. I’ll study as a technician first, and then maybe I’ll go to university for culinary studies too, so I can earn more money.”
As I talked to Katya, I saw an ordinary teenage girl in front of me—slightly untidy, withdrawn, and unsure of herself. We had all been like that at her age. Something maternal awakened inside me whenever I looked at that thin girl with her extraordinary eyes.
Lyudmila Petrovna did not trouble us with many phone calls. Maxim, however, began to worry.
“Listen, did Katya ever say whether her mother gave her any money to live on while she’s here?”
“I didn’t ask. I assumed she had. What, she didn’t?”
“Apparently not. So we’re expected to support someone else’s child for an entire month out of our own pocket!”
“Max, I wasn’t counting on that. We have our own daughter. Why should we feed someone else’s? Talk to Lyudmila Petrovna.”
But his aunt seemed to sense trouble. She called us herself that evening.
“Hello, Lizochka! How is my precious girl doing?”
“Everything is fine, Lyudmila Petrovna. She’s resting and preparing for admission. Shall I call Maxim? He’s just come out of the shower.”
“Yes, put dear Maxim on! And give Katyusha my love! I’ll definitely call her tomorrow!”
Making a displeased face, I handed the phone to my husband.
“Hello, Aunt Lyuda. Did you transfer any money to Katya? No? This is rather awkward—we weren’t planning to support her completely.”
“Maxim, I understand everything, but the youngest has fallen seriously ill. I’ll transfer some money a little later, all right? Surely you don’t begrudge your niece a little help, my dear boy? You’ve always been so kindhearted. Try to understand my situation.”
Maxim understood her situation. But not for long. I continued to gently but persistently nag my husband, and he regularly called his aunt, hinting that financial support was necessary.
A miracle happened on Wednesday: two thousand rubles arrived in Maxim’s account. Apparently, it was intended for transportation. But what about food and clothes? The girl did not even have her own toothbrush—we had to buy one. Two T-shirts, a pair of shorts, jeans, and worn-out sneakers—that was her entire wardrobe. Of course, it was summer, but such a meager collection was clearly inadequate for a month-long stay in an unfamiliar city.
“Would you send your own child to strangers without a single ruble?” I reproached my husband.
He only sighed heavily and looked away.
On Thursday morning, his aunt called Maxim again.
“My dear nephew, bless you! I sent a little money yesterday. I won’t receive my salary until Monday. I wanted to ask you a family favor. Poor Katyusha has hardly any decent clothes—we didn’t have time to pack properly. Could you and Liza take her to a store and buy her some things? Don’t be stingy. I’ll receive my vacation pay soon and return every last kopeck. She isn’t coming home again, and she needs to look respectable at school. Will you do it? Liza has such exquisite taste; she’ll help choose everything.”
Maxim looked at me, nodded, and agreed.
“All right, Aunt Lyuda.”
I calmed down a little. If she was promising to repay us, then it was tolerable. I loved shopping. Besides, I had a short day at work. I collected Mashenka from kindergarten, picked up Katya, and we set out to conquer the shopping mall.
We bought an abundance of everything. Three pairs of jeans fit the girl’s slim figure perfectly, along with several dresses and sundresses, shoes, sandals, and new sneakers. We purchased towels, hygiene products, and even a pillow for her future dormitory.
The happy girl chattered with delight and played with Mashenka. My daughter wanted a princess balloon and cotton candy. We celebrated our successful shopping trip at a café, where we demolished an entire pizza and drank milkshakes topped with colorful cereal pieces.
We returned home in a wonderful mood. Katya took Mashenka outside for a walk, while I enjoyed the silence. When my husband came home from work, he asked about the results and how much we had spent. I had saved all the receipts to show Lyudmila Petrovna.
On Friday, dressed in her new clothes, Katya went to the vocational school and submitted her documents. She did not return until evening because she had been exploring the city. We spent the weekend together: we visited an exhibition at the art museum and ate at a café again. Everything was going wonderfully, and nothing suggested the trouble that Monday would bring.
Evening arrived, but Lyudmila Petrovna did not deign to call or transfer the promised money. I was slowly beginning to boil with anger, and Maxim was losing his temper as well.
“We spent more than thirty thousand rubles. I’m not a miser, and the child isn’t to blame, but Lyudmila is an adult woman. She ought to understand the most basic rules of decency.”
Tuesday passed in the same silence. On Wednesday, my husband could no longer endure it.
“Good afternoon, Lyudmila Petrovna. We wanted to know when you plan to transfer the money for Katya’s expenses. We bought her clothes, we’re feeding her, and we’ve given her a place to stay. I can send you the receipts—my wife saved all of them for accounting purposes…”
“Maxim, honestly, what a miser you are!” his aunt shouted so loudly that I could hear every word. “You’re acting as though spending a little money on your niece will ruin you! What is thirty thousand rubles? Peanuts! You’re rich people living in the capital, while we’re struggling to make ends meet out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Lyudmila Petrovna, do not test my patience. It is already at its limit.”
Fortunately, Katya had gone out for a walk. Mashenka was asleep after an eventful day. The girls did not hear the unpleasant argument.
I had always believed that children should not be involved in adult conflicts, and I was glad they were absent.
“In that case, dear aunt, tomorrow we are packing Katya’s things and sending her home. Her need to enroll in school is not our problem. We have our own family and our own life. You have completely lost your sense of shame, dumping your child on us for a month in such an insolent way!”
Maxim slammed down the phone and looked at me. I nodded approvingly.
Of course, his aunt was in the wrong. It was not only about the money—we were prepared to help without expecting anything in return. But as far as I knew, Lyudmila Petrovna’s family lived quite comfortably, and her desire to shift responsibility for her child onto someone else’s shoulders was simply an expression of ordinary greed and shamelessness.
When Katya returned, I called her into the kitchen.
“Katya, we’re sending you back to your mother tomorrow, all right?”
“Why? What happened?”
“Your mother and I had a terrible argument, do you understand? She’ll explain it to you, but I’ll tell you my opinion too. She sent you here with that miserable little suitcase containing three scraps of clothing. No pillow, no toothbrush. She decided that we would buy everything and support you completely. You understand, we don’t begrudge you anything. We’re happy to help, truly. But your mother behaved badly. You understand that yourself, don’t you?”
Katya lowered her eyes and blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. She understood everything. She was clearly ashamed of her greedy mother, who had indeed sent her to an unfamiliar city, to people she barely knew, without money or essential belongings.
“What about the things we bought? She didn’t pay for those either?”
I shook my head, understanding what Katya wanted to ask.
“They’re all yours. None of this is your fault. You’ll take everything home with you. We simply can’t keep you here under these circumstances, do you understand? We have our own life, and Mashenka is still little. Wear the clothes in good health—they’re so beautiful and suit you wonderfully! You’re a real beauty when you’re properly dressed. I’m sure your mother loves you and will find a way for you to study at the vocational school. But we are ending our relationship with her. I don’t want to keep arguing. We are simply very different people.”
“Aunt Liza, I understand. I’m sorry about my mother and… thank you so much!”
We said goodbye to Katyenka warmly. We drove her to the railway station and bought her some ice cream. The new pale-blue dress and matching sandals with their elegant little heels suited the girl beautifully.
She boarded the train and waved to us through the window for a long time, pulling funny faces to entertain Mashenka.
She was a good girl. As long as her mother did not turn her against us, I would be happy to see her again when she found her feet in life.
Good luck to you, my emerald-eyed wonder!
