Lyuba sat in the warm, cozy compartment right by the window. She had rushed so much, afraid she might miss the train, but now everything was fine.
She had so many things to do before leaving that she was utterly exhausted—the upcoming night on the train felt like her true salvation, a much-needed break before a difficult meeting. Right now, all she dreamed of was climbing onto her bunk and falling asleep.
Now, in the compartment, Lyuba finally caught her breath and could relax. She gazed out the window as the train slowly picked up speed, leaving behind the almost empty platform and the modest local station building.
This was a through train, so there were already passengers in the compartment. Lyuba looked around, trying to figure out who would be traveling with her this night until her morning stop. She tried not to think yet about what awaited her once she arrived at her destination.
One of the upper bunks was still empty, while a young man with headphones lay on the other. It was impossible to tell if he was sleeping or listening to music—his eyes were closed. Across from Lyuba, on the lower bunk, an elderly woman wearing a warm flannel robe and a scarf faced the wall. Every now and then, the old lady sighed, but she wasn’t turning toward Lyuba yet, even though it was clear she wasn’t asleep.
Lyuba took a thermos of hot tea out of her bag, adding a spoonful of raspberry jam, along with a bag of homemade pastries. She hadn’t gotten a chance to eat all day.
Now, finally able to relax and with nothing to worry about till morning, she decided to combine dinner and lunch right then. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she knew she had to eat—otherwise, where would the strength come from? And she really needed her strength now.
She felt awkward eating alone. After a couple minutes of hesitation, Lyuba turned to the elderly woman, offering to share her meal.
«Excuse me, please. I can tell you’re not asleep. Would you like some fresh pastries with potatoes? I also have some with rice and egg,» she offered, hoping the old lady would respond. «I baked them myself.»
The elderly woman started stirring, shifting around as she attempted to turn toward Lyuba. It was obvious this took significant effort—her aching joints made movement difficult, and the old lady let out grunts and groans as she tried.
«I’m sorry if I disturbed you. Hello,» Lyuba said as the woman finally faced her. «It just feels wrong to eat alone when there are people nearby. Sharing makes it nicer, don’t you think?»
But as the elderly woman finally sat up on the bunk, letting her legs dangle and readjusting her colorful scarf, Lyuba froze mid-sentence and gasped.
It was Anna Tikhonovna—there was no doubt about it—though she hadn’t recognized Lyuba yet. She was rummaging in her pocket for her glasses, wanting to get a better look at the fellow traveler who hadn’t let her rest.
Finally, the glasses were found, and the old lady looked closely at Lyubov, who was standing still, waiting for her reaction.
Her former mother-in-law didn’t speak right away. She studied Lyuba closely for a while, half believing, half doubting that it really was her sitting before her. She couldn’t rely on her poor eyesight, so she hesitated and stayed silent for a bit.
“Hello, Anna Tikhonovna,” Lyuba was the first to speak. “Do you recognize me?”
“Yes, now I do, Lyuba. Is it really you? What a meeting God has given us! I never would’ve thought we’d run into each other like this,” she replied softly and with pause.
“Are you traveling somewhere?” Lyuba asked next, unsure what else to talk about for now.
Both women looked bewildered. Neither of them was prepared for this encounter, which is why words wouldn’t come—only emotions were running high in their minds.
“Well, if I’m sitting on a train, I must be going somewhere,” Anna Tikhonovna answered. “I wouldn’t have gone if it weren’t necessary… They sent me to the regional hospital. They suspect a serious diagnosis.”
“Oh no, really?” Lyuba gasped with concern, thinking of her own troubles, too.
She realized that at Anna Tikhonovna’s age, all these trips and check-ups probably weren’t easy or even welcome. But the habit of always following the rules and listening to doctors won out.
“It’s alright, Lyuba, I’m not too worried. However much I have left—one year more or less—it’s all just fuss. They should take care of the younger ones instead. Us old folks, we don’t need much. Treat us or not, in the end it’s all the same. What about you, where are you heading? How’s Lena, my granddaughter? I know nothing about you two. After you and Nikolai split up, it’s like everything was cut off. It’s been twenty years now, like one day…”
“Anna Tikhonovna, back then you said Lena wasn’t your granddaughter. That you didn’t believe me, remember?” Lyuba said with hurt in her voice, though she hadn’t planned to remind her former mother-in-law. But something stirred inside, bringing back those tough feelings she’d faced during the divorce from Nikolai.
“Oh, Lyuba! I’ve scolded myself for those words so many times! I cried so much for hurting you unjustly. I even asked my son to find you and apologize for me. But could anyone make him do it? He found himself another woman right away. And then another… He had no time for you and your daughter, the rascal.”
Anna Tikhonovna wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and sighed heavily.
“So, what’s the truth? Lena is truly your granddaughter after all? Not some outsider?” Lyuba pressed again, wanting at least now to finally get some vindication for the pain she’d carried all those years. “And I was a faithful and proper wife and daughter-in-law? Right? But somehow you never seemed happy with me.”
“Lyuba, I realized it all far too late. Life has punished me enough for that mistake. Back then, for some reason, I believed my son and what he said about you. I approved your divorce, even rejected my own granddaughter. Only later did I understand, when I finally saw his womanizing nature. My Nikolasha spent his life going from one skirt to another. He’s only just settled down recently. And even now… I hate to say it, but the woman he married is so wild, it’s frightening.”
“Yes, it’s all rather sad, Anna Tikhonovna. It’s a shame things turned out this way. I managed, I got through it, though it was tough. It’s scary to even remember now. But my daughter… For her, it was even worse. She never understood why her dad, grandma, and grandpa all suddenly abandoned her at once. How was I supposed to explain that to a five-year-old child?”
“You’re a strong woman, Lyuba, you made it through. Did you ever remarry?” Anna Tikhonovna asked, eager to steer the conversation away from the unpleasant subject.
“No, I didn’t. I just couldn’t trust anyone else again. I had a few interested suitors, I won’t lie—they did propose. But by then, my focus had completely shifted to my daughter. I lived for her all those years, made sure she had everything she needed, just like everyone else’s kids.”
“So that’s how it is. What a shame, Lyuba. You’re such a good woman—easygoing and a great homemaker, I remember. You would have made an excellent wife, could have brought happiness to some man out there. And you’d be happy yourself too.”
“But I couldn’t bring happiness to your son,” Lyuba replied with a wistful smile.
“That’s his fault! Kolya ruined his own life, he has no one to blame. Always looking for something—and look where that got him! Now that Vera really has him wrapped around her finger. Sometimes he even forgets his own name. And as for me, forget it. That painted-up woman doesn’t even want to know I exist. Says she has no need for other people’s old ladies, not for free. This is where I’ve ended up, Lyuba. My son and my daughter-in-law don’t need me. My daughter is far away and not young anymore, she has her own life. My husband’s been gone five years now. My grandkids don’t need me either. But what’s the use of complaining—this is all my own fault. All of it is my fault…”
The women fell silent, staring out the window at the woods and small stations gliding by in the deep blue of evening. Lyuba forgot all about her plan to have a snack, and now the bag with the thermos and pies sat on the table, lonely and almost out of place.
Old memories from twenty years ago stirred in her soul. She saw herself as a young, vulnerable woman, suddenly thrown out of her home by her husband—accused of cheating for no reason at all, left alone with a little child.
Right after the wedding, Lyuba and Nikolai moved in with his parents. Anna Tikhonovna was cautious toward her young daughter-in-law from the neighboring village. Lyuba had no parents—she’d been raised by her aunt—and her mother-in-law often reminded her that she was just an orphan, with no roots. Poor and not suited for anything, she’d say.
But young Lyuba, blinded by love, tried her best not to pay attention to the hurtful words. Especially after little Lena was born—she poured all her care, all her worries, into her daughter.
As for Nikolai…he showed his true colors pretty quickly. The loving young man soon became a rough, heavy-drinking husband, fond of both his after-work drinks and weekends out. Several local women dropped hints to Lyuba that her husband was cheating. But she didn’t believe them, just smiled awkwardly—maybe she didn’t even know what to do with the information. She had nowhere else to go anyway. And now she had a small child in her arms.
But then something happened to Nikolai. One day, he came home drunk and started a fight, accusing Lyuba of being unfaithful. He even claimed that Lena wasn’t his daughter, tried to offer up some kind of proof. His main argument: the girl didn’t look like him or anyone in his family.
Later, Lyuba found out the real reason behind her husband’s behavior from an acquaintance who lived nearby. It turned out to be something simple—he’d suddenly fallen for a young female doctor who had recently come to the village and wanted to free himself from his first marriage, which he was already quite bored of.
Lyuba’s husband’s parents didn’t stand up for her. She had no choice but to leave with her five-year-old daughter and return to the settlement where her aunt lived. It was only two years later that a good friend invited her to the district settlement, where they needed workers at the furniture factory. There, Lyuba was eventually able to buy a small house on credit from a kindly old lady, who sold it to her before moving to the city to be with her own daughter.
All these memories flashed before Lyuba’s eyes now in an instant, stirring up heavy thoughts.
«Your Lena is a grown woman now, twenty-five, isn’t she?» Anna Tikhonovna’s question pulled Lyuba out of her recollections. «I’d love to see her now.»
«Yes, she’s twenty-five. She’s married, and her husband Ivan is a good man. They have a little boy, Roma—he’s two. So, I’m already a grandma,» Lyuba said, not without pride, watching her former mother-in-law’s reaction.
«So that’s how it is. And that makes me a great-grandma. Well, it’s good to know; otherwise, I’d have lived the rest of my days never hearing about it. So, who is Lena’s husband? Are you on your way to see them now? Do the young ones live in the city?»
«Her husband works at the factory as a welder—he earns a decent living,» Lyuba replied. «And Roma… Oh, I’m not even sure if I should bring this up…»
Lyuba fell silent, trying not to cry. She wondered if she should share such things with someone who, even if connected by blood to her daughter, was now practically a stranger to her.
«Did something happen, Lyuba? Tell me, don’t keep it to yourself. Maybe I can give you some advice,» Anna Tikhonovna said with concern, noticing the change in her former daughter-in-law’s face. «Maybe I can help in some way, too.»
«It’s my grandson, Roma. He got sick. Everything was fine—he was born healthy. But then something happened, and he was diagnosed with a rare disease. I can’t even pronounce its name—it’s that complicated. For all of us, it felt like a bolt from the blue. He was registered for treatment, had all kinds of tests, and started treatment. The medicines are supposed to be given for free. But a professor suggested a new method to my daughter. He said it’s expensive but already proven to work well, and that it could help Roma finally beat his illness for good.»
«That’s tough. It’s heartbreaking when children get sick, especially your own,» the elderly woman said with concern. «So, are you on your way to help them now? I bet you had to take out a big loan, didn’t you?»
«Yes, I did. But even that won’t be enough for us. I want to meet up with an old friend of mine in the city and ask her for a loan, too. Maybe she’ll agree,» Lyuba said with a touch of sadness.
«She should. It’s for a good cause, after all…»
Anna Tikhonovna suddenly fell silent, lost in thought. It weighed heavily on her to realize she had once abandoned this wonderful woman and her daughter—her own granddaughter—to face the world alone. Now, learning the painful truth about her great-grandson’s illness wasn’t easy. Life never goes easy on Lyuba; she’s been tested more than once, this kind and fragile woman.
«Lyuba, dear, can you… give me your passport details? Maybe just write them down somewhere?» Anna Tikhonovna asked her suddenly.
«Why do you need them?» Lyuba replied, surprised, her mind already preoccupied with tomorrow’s meeting.
«When I get back home from the hospital, I’ll go to the notary and transfer my house to you. Later on, you can sell it to pay off the loan. It won’t bring in much, but it’ll be something. At least it’s a bit of help from me.»
«Oh no! That’s not necessary,» Lyuba stammered. «You still need that home yourself.»
«I don’t have much time left, I know that. I’m not asking God for any more. And as for my daughter-in-law, Vera, I don’t want to leave her a single thing—not even a handkerchief. She doesn’t deserve it. My son won’t get anything from that money anyway, and honestly, he’s not earned it. But for you… you need it far more. Every penny counts for you right now.»
«No, Anna Tikhonovna, this isn’t right. We’ve always managed on our own, and we’ll manage this time, too. You don’t need more problems with your children over all this. Especially now, when you’re having health problems,» Lyuba replied, her voice full of concern.
«Lyubonka, how can you not understand, my dear! I’m asking for your mercy, your forgiveness! This is my chance. Meeting you today—this isn’t just by chance. It’s my opportunity to redeem myself—to you and to my granddaughter. Please, don’t deny me this request! The Lord has given me the opportunity to ask your forgiveness before I go, and to help you in some small way. My children don’t need my house, Lyuba, don’t worry about them—they have plenty. But you could use it. Please, Lyubonka! Don’t say no.»
Anna Tikhonovna was crying. Tears slid down her wrinkled face.
«I forgive you, Anna Tikhonovna, I do. Don’t cry. Please try to calm down…»
They parted ways at the train platform after Lyuba helped her former mother-in-law step off the carriage. The elderly woman took one last, careful look at the photos of her granddaughter and great-grandson on Lyuba’s phone. She smiled, wiping away fresh tears again and again.
«Take care of yourself, get well soon!» Lyuba said with all her heart.
«I hope Romochka gets better, that’s the most important thing right now. And that you and Lenochka stay healthy too. I’ll pray for you for as long as I have left. Goodbye, Lyuba! I wish you happiness.»
Lyuba headed to her daughter and son-in-law’s apartment, but couldn’t shake off the strange feeling from this unexpected encounter the whole way there.
Three weeks later, she received a letter from Anna Tikhonovna’s neighbor. The news was that her former mother-in-law was gone. Inside the envelope was also the deed to the house, signed over by the elderly woman just days before her passing.
She made it just in time. She so wanted to leave forgiven, to at least make up for some of her wrongs to Lyuba.
