Irina took one last look around her parents’ apartment and the pitiful stash she had prepared for her departure. In the kitchen, her favorite twin pairs were finishing their tea. Maryasha and Verochka were nibbling on a bagel they were sharing between them. The sweet-toothed Vanka and Glebushka were dipping another such rosy bagel into a vintage bowl of apricot jam.
In half an hour, a car was supposed to come for them. There was still time to check if everything was packed for the long journey ahead, into her new life, which was uncertain how it would unfold. The woman heavily sat down on a small stool in the corridor, sighed, and tried to gather her thoughts to avoid crying and becoming a mess.
She disliked weaklings, and here she herself felt like bursting into loud tears that would chill to the bone.
Thirty years gone in a flash.
Childhood, youth, dad and mom, a sorrowful husband. Did all this really happen within the walls of this house? The apartment responded with gloomy silence. Only on the staircase landing did the elevator groan like an owl, the worker.
Irina would never have sold this family heritage if not for the tragic circumstances. There’s a price to pay for everything in life, including a mad passionate love. And now, fate was presenting her with a bill at full rate. Her own quiet place in a suburban area of Moscow was rightfully earned by her parents after diligent work at the «Udaritsa» confectionery factory.
Her father was a production line fitter. Thanks to his bright mind, all those lush marshmallows smoothly rolled down the conveyor belt, dressed in chocolate glaze pastilles, and tempting sugar-coated multicolored marmalades.
The sweet treasures reached Irina’s mother a bit later for packaging. Workers would carefully place the fragile items into colorful boxes marked «Made at the oldest candy factory in Russia.» The soul rejoices, without any bonus, but if there’s a bonus, then it’s simple Soviet happiness. The goods flew off the shelves in stores.
Across the country, boxes of products were distributed, allowing the confectionery kingdom’s staff to receive decent wages and social benefits for those times. Thus, the masters of the tasty craft received this two-room apartment. They furnished it with new furniture: a divan, a TV, a couple of armchairs, a floor lamp, and a sideboard with crystal. That was in the living room. In the bedroom, where they slept together for a long time until Irina grew up and moved to the living room, they placed three beds.
Dad was always joking.
«We literally have beds like the three bears in the fairy tale. The biggest bed for Papa Bear, a smaller one for Mama Bear, and a tiny bed for their little bear Irina.»
The daughter imagined this scene and burst into long, happy laughter. At her young age, she didn’t ponder why her parents slept in separate beds.
An irreversible misfortune already lived in the family, but during that bear-like period, Irina understood little of what was happening, and they were infinitely happy together. It seemed that it could not be otherwise. Irina’s mother couldn’t have children in the sense that she couldn’t give birth naturally. But she wanted a child so badly that she still took the risk.
Irinka was born, and right after the birth, Maria underwent a major surgery. They left nothing inside her reproductive system. Papa Bear endured honestly and for a long time. Even close relations with her husband were not recommended for his wife. And then, like off the leash, he couldn’t miss a single skirt.
Hunger burst from its hidden core like a cork from a champagne bottle.
Before the events related to Irina’s birth, Andrey had been an exemplary family man. And afterwards, he earnestly tried not to distance himself from his wife. Male nature proved stronger than all the promises he made to himself. His first affair with Natalia, who was on a business trip, set Gina free. Now he craved new and new adventures, new emotions and victories.
Maria was not living in the clouds; she did not purse her lips sadly when she first found lipstick marks on her husband’s shirt collar, nor did she faint from the eternal swarm of women’s scents now always surrounding Andrey when he returned home late in the evening. It was not a shock to her when she realized that her husband was seriously hooked. He even stopped going out to the movies and the park with her and Irina on weekends.
He returned home late at night. He furiously washed away the traces in the bathroom for a long time, then could smoke one cigarette after another on the balcony for hours, agonizingly contemplating something. Maria knew Andrey was making a choice, and she felt it wouldn’t be in her favor. The difficult conversation happened at the peak of the blossoming spring outside.
The birds chirped, lilacs spread their fragrance in the yard. Through the open window, the scents insistently crawled into the kitchen where Andrey was explaining himself to Maria.
«I met another woman, and this is stronger than me. I don’t live, don’t breathe, don’t exist if she’s not nearby for at least a few hours. I will send alimony for Irina regularly, but I can’t stay in our house far from my beloved woman any longer.» Andrey’s things were packed while Ira was at school. Maria understood that her husband had endured the cold bed for eight whole years, that his male life was also short, that it was all inevitable from the time she was wheeled out of the operating room already less of a complete woman. Surprisingly, there were no tears or internal groans.
She was too tired of feeling her constant guilt, and she still knew something about herself.
If she had to make the choice again now, to have a daughter or have a husband, she would choose Irina again.
A few months later, Maria learned that Andrey and his new wife had signed up for a stint in Norilsk. Their tracks were quickly lost under the snow drifts, just 300 kilometers from the Arctic Circle.
Andrey kept his promise; he transferred money for his daughter accurately and on time, on the first of each new month. Maria and her daughter lived on their own. Irina unconditionally took her mother’s side in the divorce, at her young age of eight, she quite maturely announced.
«Mom, I will always be by your side. Men sometimes go to other women; it’s in their nature.»
Maria then laughed heartily, hugged her already maturing daughter, and replied:
«Someday, my dear, you will meet your person, your other half, and you will change your ironic attitude towards men. We’ll discuss this topic more than once.»
She was spot on.
Irina turned from an awkward teenager into an absolute beauty by the age of 15. You could sit down and paint a picture from her. Light, graceful, with huge blue eyes, straight long coal-black hair, and a feminine, early developed figure.
Classmates threw notes at her with invitations to go to the movies or to a disco, but the beauty’s heart was unexpectedly occupied. In the neighboring entrance of their building lived a slightly bold, but very handsome guy named Artem. The kind of man women of all ages swoon over and cast longing glances after.
Artem was ironic and bold, superbly built, with masculine bruteness in his demeanor. Yet, he somehow indifferently marched past the female sex. He didn’t run after dates, didn’t frequent ladies’ doorsteps. He worked as a lawyer in one of Moscow’s law firms. Mainly dealt with civil cases, without any criminal stuff.
Still, there was something elusively slippery, murky about him. Maria couldn’t even explain to herself why her heart clenched when she caught her now 17-year-old daughter on window duty. Irina didn’t immediately realize that her mother was right beside her, also watching Artem casually walking to a brand new foreign car.
This young man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father—a diplomat, his mother—an actress in the theater. His parents were public figures in Moscow. They occupied an entire floor in their building. They bought and renovated two adjacent apartments immediately. Not just a dwelling, but a palace in a quiet green area of the capital. Then the woman thought:
«Lord, why did Irina have to fancy him of all people?
Something about him elusively alarms me. But what? I can’t understand yet.»
Artem was a whole 10 years older than Ira. Between them lay a deep chasm of his already some life experience, a university degree, the beginning of a career climb, and her naive purity as a high school graduate.
«A miracle can’t happen, and that’s great,» Maria thought to herself.
He’ll never notice a schoolgirl. No matter how many local and visiting girls have hunted him, all in vain.
Yet he did notice. All of a sudden, he paused when Maria and Irina were coming out of the grocery store, loaded with purchases. He gallantly held the door open for them, appraisingly glanced at Ira, and muttered something under his breath.
The girl instantly stiffened by his presence, froze in front of the steps like a statue, while Maria nearly bumped into her from behind.
«Ira, that young man is from another world. You’re not his field’s berry. He’ll break your heart before you know it.» The daughter was flustered but quickly composed herself.
«I love him, mom. I love him so much that this time I won’t listen to you. If he calls me to follow him anywhere, I won’t hesitate for a second. This is my choice, and you’ll have to accept it.»
«The true daughter of her father,» Maria thought immediately. «He too had fallen in love helplessly and refused to find compromises. Hopefully, my inexperienced girl won’t get herself into some unpleasant story with her otherworldly love.»
Well, if fate has so decreed, she just has to tell her that if she gets burned and bumps her head, the door to her home will always be open.
Memories of what her life had been like with her handsome husband were interrupted by the children’s calls.
«Mom, we’ve cleaned up everything in the kitchen, when is the car coming for us? You said our new house in the country is almost on the riverbank, surrounded by a dense forest with hares and squirrels.»
«My archers are already eight and six years old, and they still dream of adventures,» Ira thought lovingly. «Artem left something bright behind on this earth after all. What would I do, how would I live, if I didn’t have my magnificent four?»
Irina stroked the heads of her older sons, adjusted the colorful elastics on the girls’ ponytails, and combed the ladies’ bangs with the little comb she always carried in all her pockets.
«Forward, my young princesses and knights! Great deeds await us!»
A hired minibus was puffing at the entrance. She glanced back at the family home where she had lived for 35 years and boldly stepped onto the footboard.
A large, colorful chapter of her life closed today. By evening they would be at their newly purchased home, three hundred kilometers from Moscow. Irina had sold all her furniture and belongings, deciding fairly that if she was starting her life anew, everything around her should be new as well.
In the old apartment, everything reminded her of past failures and joys, which also existed. She wouldn’t anger God by lamenting that there were no very happy days in her life. That would be entirely unfair to her villainous fate.
Irina leaned back on the soft, comfortable seatback of the minibus and once again indulged in memories.
Behind her, the twins cooed about something of their own. For a while, she even forgot about the tragic events of the last two years and returned there, far away, to their amazing romance with Artem.
The first guy from their courtyard waited for her at the entrance the next day. He twirled car keys on his finger and smiled his unimaginable smile specifically at Irina.
As she walked from the entrance, he dashed to the back seats, pulled out a luxurious bouquet of soft burgundy roses with beautiful pink veins.
«Your name is Irina, right, neighbor?»
He touched her hand, and Ira felt as if burns were left on her skin.
«Ira,» she stammered in response, «and you?»
She asked this silly question, fully aware that he knew that she knew his name. Artem smiled his charming smile again and suddenly suggested.
«How about I show you my Moscow, the one I’m crazy about, the one I know well, the one where half the residents of the capital sometimes never visit in their lifetimes?»
Ira swallowed and guiltily answered.
«I can’t right now. I’m going to school for a physics consultation. We have our final exam in a week.»
Artem didn’t even raise an eyebrow. He casually handed her those impossibly beautiful roses and replied:
«Then let’s postpone our date until after your final exams.»
He jumped into the front seat, skillfully sliding between the steering wheel and the back of the seat.
The engine purred softly like a contented March cat, and the car disappeared in an instant. Only Ira was left standing in the courtyard, painfully trying to decide whether to go to the consultation with the luxurious bouquet of roses and make it on time, or to return home and put the bouquet in their most expensive Czech crystal vase but be late. In her inner conflict, a third option was chosen.
Her face blazed with overwhelming emotions and impressions. Showing up at school in such a state was unthinkable, and no one was home right now. Deciding that she could copy the questions and answers discussed today with the teacher from a friend, Ira rushed home and spent nearly two hours alone admiring her first-ever flowers given by a man.
Then there was a lot more dizzying stuff. Artem didn’t like to walk around the city much, but he drove her around Moscow endlessly. He behaved impeccably. Nothing more than a light touch of her lips with his after meeting at farewell was allowed. Even when Maria was sent from the confectionery factory to a sanatorium on a subsidized voucher, he didn’t impose himself as a guest.
So they virtuously strolled until Irina’s 18th birthday. After finishing school, Ira, entirely consumed by her first love that had suddenly fallen on her head, didn’t puzzle much over choosing a university, and went to the pedagogical university. She didn’t care much for exact sciences, but she adored reading books. Anything at all that could be bought, bartered, or obtained.
She felt that the profession of «Russian language and literature teacher» sounded both decent and cultured. And prestige? Well, what about prestige? Yes, she wasn’t a female astronaut, not a shopping center director, not a TV host. That was fine for her. Artem treated her choice with a bit of irony, but then joked:
«Are you going to teach our children to write essays, speak eloquently, and behave in society? That’s a fine profession, and it provides some kind of living.» Hearing the words «our children» from Artem, Ira’s eyes widened, and then, for the first time, she couldn’t contain herself and threw herself around his neck.
«Do you realize what you just said? You said I’ll be teaching our children. Was that a joke, right? Tell me, Artem, you were joking, weren’t you?»
The man indulgently embraced Ira by the shoulders, looked into her eyes, and then pressed his lips to hers in a long kiss. She had waited so long for this moment. She had dreamed about her first mature kiss but still was not prepared when it happened. The ground slipped from beneath her feet. The sky fell to the earth. Or so it seemed to her.
At that very moment, Ira realized that this man was her personal god. Her master, her lord, she would follow him through fire and water. The future events were predetermined. Studying at the university unexpectedly pleased Ira. The group she joined was kind-hearted. Everything as usual, on a typically female faculty.
Long heated debates about the next classic literary masterpiece, seminars on Russian language. Sometimes after classes, Artem would meet her and take her on an exciting journey around the region. Over the academic year, they visited Arkhangelskoe, Uspenka-Vyazemka, Marfino. One day they roamed the museum-reserve in Abramtsevo and then had a picnic with sandwiches right on the riverbank of Vorya.
Artem seemed like a refined aesthete, immersing her in the world of sweet noble dreams. A flawless man, a knight from that old bookish past, always pleasing his lady.
Sometimes Artem would disappear for a few days and then return happy.
He said that the business trip was thrilling, pure adrenaline, but it only invigorated him. After the first year, when Ira finished her exams, Artem pulled an envelope from the glove compartment in the car.
«Baby, I have a surprise for you here. A trip for two to Venice.
You wouldn’t refuse to accompany me to this exquisite country full of wonders, would you?»
Ira willingly drowned in this whirlpool. She whispered in her mother’s ear.
«I love him to shivers. It’s impossible for one to have so much happiness.»
In Italy, Ira was immediately enchanted by the beauty. Like bewitched, she held onto Artem’s hand. She jumped aside when they encountered black people trying to sell souvenirs and some women’s handbags. Artem had booked a hotel near the house of the rogue Casanova.
Whether it was the uniqueness of their first night or the air of Venice in general, as it was the first time Ira was with Artem, she hardly remembered it. A sweet haze, a sharp sensation of falling into an abyss, holding hands again. By morning, before falling asleep, she asked:
«Artem, why have I never seen other women around you? Are you a magician?»
«I was waiting for you,» the man replied. «For such an inexperienced and trembling girl, to lead her down the path to paradise.»
The following days in Venice, Ira remembered as if in a fog. Coffee and pizza on a cozy summer terrace, long dinners with a glass of wine, shopping for gifts for her mother. They bought her a luxurious Venetian mask, decorated with bright red and black feathers, and colorful stones.
For Ira herself, outfits and jewelry were also purchased. Artem spared no expense on his girlfriend in boutiques or tenderness at night in their wonderful room. In terms of having offspring, the man took careful precautions. On the silent question in Ira’s eyes, he firmly noted:
«You’ll teach our children Russian and literature later. Now please go get your diploma.»
Ira shifted in her seat on the minibus. The final stop was no more than 50 kilometers away. Behind her, the children were peacefully snoring. She could have stirred more pages of «The Sweet Life» with Artem, but something else came to mind—the shock and horror she experienced upon learning that her now-husband was a gambler.
At the wedding, Artem’s parents seemed to look at her strangely amid the noisy party. The meaning of those looks she understood later, after a frank conversation with her mother-in-law.
«You don’t know, child, what a story you’ve gotten yourself into with this unearthly love. Our Artem is sick; he’s a mad gambler. Like every gambler, he has had his ups and downs. Big wins alternated with temporary financial disasters. Simultaneously, he started studying at the law academy, which, despite his addiction, he graduated with honors. Not even a budding career as a young specialist cooled the fervor of his addiction.
They sighed with relief only after he met you. They couldn’t believe their eyes; you managed to conquer the heart of our impregnable fortress.
By the turn of 2009, when all such establishments were officially closed with a bang, Artem even seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and then he began to break away on supposed business trips to those very unfortunate zones in Altai, the Far East, and Kaliningrad.
He flew there infrequently, returned invigorated, but he was increasingly unlucky.
«One day my husband discovered that expensive things started disappearing from our house. I missed jewelry with diamonds and emeralds in my jewelry box. The conversation my husband had with Artem was stern; the father gave him an ultimatum to either end his games or move out of the house.
That’s when Artem announced that he was getting married urgently and would live with his wife.
Ira couldn’t believe her ears. This whole story, told by her newfound mother-in-law, couldn’t be true. Her idol, her husband, her Temochka could not be a gambler.
They had been together for over a year, apart from the rare trips from which he indeed returned invigorated, there were no hints of this madness in him at all.
After the wedding, the newlyweds lived at the bride’s mother’s house. Artem didn’t complain that the conditions weren’t right, that it was modest and impoverished in the new house. If he needed personal items, he rushed to his parents’ and brought back full bags along with groceries and elite drinks.
They slept in a small bedroom of the former den of the three bears, now occupied by a huge marital bed. Ira continued to forget everything in the world as soon as her husband closed the door to their bedroom. After six months, she realized she was expecting a child, and when the doctor announced at the ultrasound that it was twins, she was terribly surprised.
«My God, Artemka, where did this miracle come from?»
Her husband reassured her with a smile.
«Well, my mother is from twins, genes. Now they have rewarded us with this happiness.»
For the first time after the birth of Vanya and Gleb, he was the most caring and attentive father.
He shared household duties equally with her. He even learned to wash dishes and cook porridge. A year later, Ira felt uneasy again. She felt drowsy in the evenings, nauseous from the smell of fried fish. The doctors’ verdict—you are in an interesting condition again, they met it with enthusiasm. By that time, Artem’s parents had gone abroad for a long diplomatic contract.
It wouldn’t be crowded for them now. The family decided to move into the parents’ palatial home in the neighboring entrance. Especially since Maria lately seemed to be getting moody with her health, quickly tired from fussing with grandchildren, secretly swallowing all sorts of pills while the children didn’t see.
The might of Artem’s mother’s genes proved quite strong. At the due time, another set of twins appeared in the family, this time girls—Maryana and Vera.
Credit where credit is due—mother nature didn’t decide to rest on Artem and Ira’s children. The babies managed to take all the most beautiful features from their parents. The brothers had blue eyes and black hair, like their mother. The sisters had huge eyes that took up half their faces with golden sparkles on the pupils, drowning in the brownish chocolate of their color.
Well-shaped figures from early childhood. No ailments ever clung to them. They have a good-natured disposition and a mischievous character, fond of pranks and inventions. But all four of them are neither whiners nor capricious.
Irina’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden braking of the minibus. The driver apologized for almost missing the necessary address.
But there was no reason to scold him. In the village, all the houses stood far apart from each other, like people sometimes displaying a kind of urban solitude. A man limped past their minibus, casting a scrutinizing glance at their expedition.
«Such an unfriendly border guard,» Irina thought oddly. «Here’s my local border control.»
They moved their belongings into the new home quickly, and the children went to inspect the house. Suddenly, Irina felt an unbearable hunger and feverishly began to search through the bags for a bunch of bagels. As she bit into a bagel, there was a knock at the door. Irina went to open it to the uninvited guests. On the doorstep stood that very border guard holding a basket.
«Good evening to the homeowners. My name is Nazar, I am the head of the village. You can get the house documents with all the seals tomorrow at the village administration. Meanwhile, I’ve brought you some milk, sour cream, eggs, fresh bread from our bakery. The store is already closed today, and all this will be useful to you on the road, since you have children.»
Irina was slightly taken aback. She knew no one in her new place of residence, and here was such a warm welcome.
She did not hesitate and took the basket of groceries from Nazar’s hands. She had packed so hurriedly and nervously at the apartment that, apart from a few bagels and half a jar of solidified apricot jam, they had nothing else in stock.
Nazar refused to come into the house. He turned awkwardly on the porch and finally said:
«The stove in the house is working; I checked it, you can make scrambled eggs or an omelette in no time for the kids.»
Irina helplessly turned around. She had no idea how to approach a Russian stove. Nazar understood without words.
«What’s your name, hostess?»
«Irina,» the woman replied.
«Step aside, Ira, I’ll show you how to use the stove. It’s not difficult.»
Half an hour later, dry logs crackled cozily in the stove, which Nazar had skillfully arranged in some intricate composition. Eggs sizzled on the table, and all four young rascals were already spreading sour cream on their bread, washing it down with warm, fresh milk from mugs that Irina found in the nearest box. After a hearty dinner, the children rushed in a flock to the far room, where wide beds stood.
The woman unpacked the bedding on the run, where her helper had gone in all this fuss, she didn’t even notice. Irina herself ended up with a surprisingly wide and comfortable divan. As she lay down, she thought she would fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, but treacherous memories surrounded her again in a crowd.
Artem suddenly missed gambling.
Turning his eyes away, he announced:
«I have a business trip to Sochi coming up; they are opening a new facility in the village there.»
Irina, of course, had no idea what the new facility was. The addiction in him had only been dormant until now, but then it burst forth freely, drawing him to the green felt.
Artem stayed away on a business trip for a whole week, returned as if on the wings of an eagle, bought gifts for Irina and the children, and said that he received a bonus for successful work. It never crossed Irina’s mind that her husband was shamelessly lying, spending another large win. After this trip to Sochi, a series of others followed. From them, Artem invariably returned sullen and gloomy. It never occurred to her that fortune had seriously turned away from her husband.
Thunder struck out of a clear sky when it turned out that Maria had cancer. The surgery was to be performed in Germany, but the German doctors asked for an exorbitant price. Irina didn’t have that kind of money close by, and Artem refused.
«There are no new orders from clients at work. Where am I supposed to find that kind of money for you?»
The disease clutched Maria with a deadly grip.
The woman weakened before her eyes. Irina was torn between two homes, and then she couldn’t take it anymore. She asked her mother-in-law for a loan. They did not refuse. Satisfied with the result of the negotiations, she flew to tell Artem the news. His reaction was strange. Where did he find those words?
«My little one, my girl, my goddess. I’ll withdraw the entire amount from the bank myself, you just get the code from your parents, right? What a clever girl you are, my treasure, my reward.»
As luck would have it, at that time all the twins simultaneously came down with a viral infection. They had fevers, were capricious, coughed heavily, and were mercilessly covered in snot. Irina learned all the details from her mother-in-law about the money transfer and sent her husband to the bank with her card. He disappeared for two days.
He returned home all grim, announcing from the threshold:
«Irka, I was set up, now I owe serious people a lot of money, I’m leaving Moscow for a while, I won’t even tell you where, it’s gone too far.»
Artem failed to hide from the criminal characters. A week later, officers from the Investigative Committee came to Artem’s parents’ apartment.
Irina was invited to identify an unknown man’s body found in the Moscow River. She didn’t walk to the morgue; she crawled on cotton legs. A dreadful institution. Blue-violet and neon lamps everywhere, rows of shiny metal tables, on one of which lay Artem. She recognized him instantly, as her heart plunged into an abyss.
His beautiful brown eyes were closed. The mole on his neck, which she so loved, caught her eye.
«Why must I suffer this torment?» her soul cried. «My beloved, the best, the only, my own.»
Oddly, there were no tears. It seemed that everything inside had turned into an icy stone. Unmeltable, immovable.
Irina mechanically signed all the necessary papers. She dryly asked when her husband’s body could be buried.
«The investigation is ongoing. We will inform you later when the burial can take place.»
This long day with the terrible news of her husband’s death did not end there. First, Irina called Artem’s parents and delivered the tragic news.
Diplomatic affairs even in such a mournful moment did not release his father from the distant edges to his homeland. Artem’s mother couldn’t even speak from grief. She refused to fly in, saying:
«I want to remember my boy alive. You take care of the dignified farewell there…»
Irina dared not ask her mother-in-law for money again. The mother was hospitalized, now living only on painkillers.
There were many people at Artem’s cremation. Irina knew only a few of her husband’s colleagues, yet a good hundred gathered. Most of the faces were unknown to her. A close friend of her husband, more a partner in legal affairs than a friend, helped with the funeral.
No matter how you look at it, Artem was not the most outstanding specialist. Many appropriate speeches were given, and Irina kept thinking about what the investigator had asked her.
«Did he have enemies?»
Irina did not know the answer to this question, but she was sure that her husband’s death was related to his gambling madness.
She didn’t even bother to ask where the large sum of money sent by her husband’s parents had gone.
After Artem’s death, Irina’s mother did not last long. With four children in her care, Irina had no means to take her mother to a foreign clinic, and the doctors said that time was irrevocably lost. Irina brought her mother home to die.
Her mother had changed a lot, turned into a frail, light-as-a-feather woman. She hardly ate anything anymore, just a couple of spoonfuls of liquid broth. A malignant tumor had invaded all her organs. Every movement became a feat. Maria could not overcome the illness.
Before this, Irina moved back to her mother’s place.
The huge apartment of her mother-in-law without her husband seemed like some kind of tomb to her. Everything reminded her of him. It was unbearable. After losing two very close people, she lived for a while with a sense of vacuum around her.
It turned out that Artem had actually provided quite well for the family, as she never became a Russian language and literature teacher as planned.
She was a housewife. For some reason, their former bearish estate became absolutely unbearable. In the once-beloved apartment, the walls pressed on her, and the ceiling seemed low and uncomfortable. The old lace curtains and floral drapes in the kitchen irritated her.
She wanted to tear them down and trample them underfoot. One fine day, Irina realized that if she didn’t move away from this place to somewhere far, her life would remain dreary and hopeless. The apartment, although on the outskirts of Moscow, now almost approaching the imperial center, was worth a lot of money. Irina had no savings, and no inheritance from wealthy relatives was expected.
The decision to sell everything and find a place to live within a 300-kilometer radius of the capital came quickly. A cottage in Berezovo village was found quickly by a realtor looking for a buyer for her apartment. She even refused to visit it, somehow trusting the specialist’s photos immediately. She was drawn to the small river flowing half a kilometer from her future home.
The forest and the neat rows of birches at its edge seemed appealing. The documents were processed in just a few days, with no delays. Irina figured the money from the sale would be enough for her and the children for a while, and then she would look for a job as a teacher at a local school or a caregiver in a kindergarten.
Remembering her children, Irina smiled.
Yes, there had been much good in her life; it was just that the last two years had been incredibly difficult and tragic. Now everything would surely improve.
Nazar walked toward his house, feeling melancholic. Having spent time with four lively children, he felt sad.
Healthy, broad-shouldered, outwardly stern, and unapproachable, this man with kind, radiant eyes would never admit to anyone that he selflessly loved children. Yet, he himself had not become a father by the age of 40. Everything in this life related to children remained tragic and painful for Nazar.
After 2004, when he and his unit freed people in Beslan, North Ossetia, he ended up there by chance with his friend Genka, with whom he had participated in several operations and studied at the academy. Since his youth, even childhood, Nazar had dreamed of serving somewhere at the epicenter of the struggle for justice and a bright future.
His parents were wild, both crazy bikers obsessed with motorcycles, which were hard to get in the USSR at the time. His father—a fan of heavy rock. Even named his son after the initials of a Scottish rock band. He’d pat the side of his iron friend, pull on a protective helmet, turn on the music, seat his faithful companion behind him, and race through the cities and villages of the vast country.
A disorganized household was a trivial matter.
After Nazar was born, his mother had to settle down in one of the small southern towns. They rented a house by the sea, and the family patriarch appeared sporadically. The wind of wanderlust in his head overcame thoughts of responsibility for his family.
He truly dedicated all his visits exclusively to his son. Nazar, who grew up amid the noise of the sea waves surrounded by the steppe’s mixed grasses, could stand up to any older bully in kindergarten if they bothered him. At six, he joined a sambo class. His coach, who took him to the children’s garden, noticed the feisty little boy, always defending the weak in the group.
At every children’s morning performance, Nazar invariably played the roles of heroes and brave astronauts. He quickly became one of the guys in the section, even earning the respect of the older boys.
Over the years, only the colors of his belts changed, he slipped through competitions often emerging as the winner, and his skills improved. At 15, he could fully fend for himself at home, cooked excellently, and kept himself and the entire household clean. His visiting parents were only amazed. The house in perfect condition, grades of «good» and «excellent» lined up in his diary, and fresh soup and cutlets with porridge were always in the fridge.
No matter how you look at it, Artem was not the most sought-after specialist.
Girls started swooning over the charismatic, charming Nazar already in middle school. His appearance was striking, as if he had been carved from rock with a large chisel. To add to his masculine, somewhat steely torso, he had thick hair and the same steel-gray eyes.
To ensure his image wasn’t too stern, Mother Nature finally smiled and graced Nazar’s cheeks with playful dimples. To all the women in the village, it seemed—behind him, like behind a stone wall. And they were not mistaken.
At 16, Nazar fell in love. Fate had it that he chose a cap not fit for Semyon (a Russian expression meaning the choice was far too ambitious). He was smitten with a girl who attended the same club where their dance section was.
This ethereal being was delicate. A little aristocrat, with lips like a bow, blue eyes, light curls tied with a blue ribbon. She spoke, slightly drawing out her words and making meaningful pauses.
«Nazar, what’s with that tank top on you? Yellow is not a suitable color for a man with your physique.»
They shifted to a first-name basis only after a month. Nazar didn’t even dream of kissing his passion; he circled around his Nastya and suffered silently. For each date, he brought her handfuls of wildflowers, and she graciously placed them on the table on the porch in a decorative pitcher.
Then she agreed to a couple of hours of walks, always trying to escape back to the dance barre. They dated for two years. Another suitor in Nazar’s place would have gone mad from overwhelming desires. Nazar endured it all manfully. They kissed a few times almost like pioneers; that was the entire harvest of his love.
When Nastya turned 18, he went to ask for her hand in marriage without his parents or friends. The girl lived with a rather prim mother and grandmother, always dressed in slightly old-fashioned dresses and sundresses, with strange hairstyles and faces without a hint of makeup. Nazar then thought:
«An old-fashioned family is not a problem. After all, it’s not them I have to live with, but my Nastya. People come in all sorts, and this isn’t the most unusual situation.»
To his utter surprise, Nastya agreed to his marriage proposal, and her mother and grandmother nodded wisely. They immediately dismissed the idea of a lavish wedding celebration. They decided it would be better to spend that money on a honeymoon trip. This way, the young couple could get to know each other better.
Nazar counted not the days but the hours until the scheduled date in August. He booked a hotel at a seaside resort. The parents paid for two weeks at the hotel, deciding it would be the best gift for the children on their wedding day. The groom, having worked as a bricklayer on construction sites after school, and the bride, immersed in the arts and having enrolled in a dance department at the cultural institute, could not boast high incomes. Nazar and Nastya were married at the village administration office. The table was set in the yard of Nazar’s parents’ house, thanks to a cozy gazebo, a grill, and a large wooden table the area allowed. There were few guests. Five guys from Nazar’s martial arts section, the girls from Nastya’s dance group, and parents from both sides, including the grandmother.
Nazar approached the vacation burning with anticipation. Finally, he could be alone with his beloved. Nastya, it seemed, was entirely unconcerned about Nazar’s inner turmoil regarding their first wedding night, as if it were not an important component of a strong marriage.
Nazar, quite resolute in other matters, did not dare discuss it with her. He constantly froze when it came to this aspect of their relationship. He sincerely considered Nastya a goddess and himself a rough man. He agonized over how he would be with this delicate, fragile creature. What if I do something wrong?
Before the wedding, guys in the section teased him.
«Hey, Nazar, how are you going to handle your ballerina?»
Everyone in his circle knew that the poor guy had already traveled to another city for a weekend, met a cheerful girl in a bar, and spent two days in her cramped apartment. Aliska had no complexes in matters of love.
In 48 hours, Nazar learned everything from «A» to «Z», afraid to appear inexperienced before Nastya. He kept his journey, which he did not consider shameful, hidden even from his closest friends. He was not a womanizer, and certainly not a Don Juan. It was his only slip-up. He could not explain to himself why he did not want Nastya to be his first.
As if his inner intuition was completely opposed to it.
The hotel stunned the young couple with its magnificence. The first floor—full of cafes, restaurants, shops, beauty salons. From their two-room suite with a sea view, breathtaking views opened up that took your breath away. The outdoor pool was so inviting, they didn’t even want to go to the sea.
Nastya still showed no strong emotions about the surrounding decor. At dinner in the restaurant, she only poked at the appetizingly fried fish with a fork and took a couple of sips of white wine. Nazar could think of nothing but being alone with his beloved soon. Everything that happened afterward in the room left him with mixed feelings.
They divorced in absentia when he had already been studying in Moscow for three months. His parents, refusing to grow old gracefully, were still roaming around Russia on motorcycles, while his ex-wife was learning yet another dance routine.
Amidst all these events, Nazar was mastering the science of being brave, ruthless towards enemies, and solid as the most durable metal or alloy.
After graduating from the Academy, he was assigned to the Caucasus with his close friend Genka. Genka was an utterly fearless guy.
Before the commanders could even issue an order, he would rush into the thick of the battle. Nothing could deter him, and he died in Beslan while trying to rescue two children from a burning gym. Nazar rushed to his aid, intercepted a girl and a boy, and carried them towards the exit.
He was wounded when he had moved several meters away from the place where his friend died. He couldn’t stop to close Genka’s eyes either, so the frozen gaze of his friend on the corridor ceiling of that Ossetian school sometimes haunted him on sleepless nights. Nazar was shot in the kneecap.
His leg gave out, and Nazar only slightly cried out before softly landing on the floor and clutching the frightened children. Someone’s hands lifted the schoolchildren from the floor like a passing red flag. Perhaps it was the blood on the floor and walls that made everything seem bright crimson.
Nazar shook his head in frustration and thought:
«What a disaster? I only talked to the new residents of the village for an hour, and already so many fragments of memory have been dredged up from the corners.»
He hated recalling those tragic days. The eyes of those searching for their loved ones in the chaos, the hospital staff where the surgeon initially declared his injury very unfortunate. He vaguely remembered those medical terms and verbose arguments, and the verdict.
«Sir, it would be better to amputate the leg above the knee. The inflammation will spread to the thigh, and we’ll have to cut further.»
He was incredibly lucky that an elderly woman, a doctor with extensive experience treating wounded soldiers, entered the operating room. She carefully examined his knee and said:
«I’ll take him. We won’t do any amputation. I’ll do what I think is necessary, and time will show who among us is right.»
More than ten years have passed since then. Nazar was medically discharged after his injury, and his leg still made its presence known with stubborn persistence. He even received a disability group without any doubts. He initially taught, but he couldn’t stand for long in the classroom.
His restless parents died on their old motorcycle three years ago. They decided to stir up old times at a gathering of veteran bikers, the road was wet after the rain, and they failed to negotiate a sharp turn. They died on the same day. Mother died right at the scene of the accident, and father two hours later in the hospital. Their injuries were incompatible with life. But Nazar knew—they couldn’t have wished for a better death for themselves.
Together, side by side, embraced by their iron friend.
Nazar no longer wanted to stay in his native village. He moved closer to Moscow, where many of his service comrades had settled. In the village, he wasn’t destitute; he received a decent pension and there were plenty of lonely elderly women, always inviting him to help around their yards. They paid with natural produce, fresh eggs straight from the hen, dairy gifts from the cows, and homemade pies.
So he lived comfortably, without want, only saddened at the sight of children. God did not bless him with his own offspring, and now, perhaps, it was too late.
Irina and the twins settled into the house surprisingly quickly, as if they had lived there for a hundred years. At first, the woman couldn’t understand how it was possible.
She didn’t build this household, but it felt like she knew every inch of it. A talkative neighbor told her that the house had belonged to very pleasant people. As she put it, «Intelligent to the bone.» They were descendants of some Russian aristocrats, but they didn’t like to talk about the past.
The former owners had spent a quiet, peaceful old age in this house, and then, inevitably feeling their strength waning, they moved closer to the city, to their children. The neighbor said that their ancestors had lived in the house before them, but she had no information about them.
Irina’s family moved to the village at the beginning of the summer. After getting the household in relative order, she immediately went to the local school, and then to the kindergarten.
There, she faced disappointment; there were no vacancies for her profession. The residents themselves lacked job opportunities. Mostly everyone survived by managing their households. Reflecting on this issue, Irina decided not to lag behind. The same neighbor shared some laying hens with her, even refusing to take money for them, indignant at the thought.
«What, have you gone mad? We’ll square up in this life. What, if I run out of salt or sugar, won’t you share a little from your stock? Better yet, let’s go, I’ll show you how to better set up the chicken coop.»
Strange relations developed between Irina and Nazar. The woman felt that he enjoyed visiting their house, interacting with the twins, and they reciprocated with joyful affection.
First, they fixed the porch together, after the splinter-loving Maryasha found yet another way to injure her foot there. Then they did something together with the kids on the roof, Nazar saying, «I take their safety under my responsibility.»
And she somehow instantly calmed down, trusted him. After the noisy fuss around the household, they all went to the river. Nazar showed them where, among the reeds, the most convenient entry into the water was, on a soft sandy carpet. After swimming, Irina sat on the shore and admired how skillfully Nazar swam far from the shore, leaving behind a smooth line of small waves formed by the strokes of his strong, weary arms.
For the first time, she felt surprisingly peaceful near this somewhat sullen, uncommunicative man. Sometimes she involuntarily listened to his conversations with the children. Without mockery or irony, he taught them to swim properly or to wield a hammer.
He instructed the girls with a smile on the best way to approach a chicken to easily get a fresh egg for breakfast.
The highlight of their shared delight was a trip to the forest for the first strawberries. Nazar showed them such a generous clearing with clusters of berries that everyone was silent for a long time, munching on strawberries. The foray for mushrooms closer to August was also a revelation. Under logs, leaves, and broken branches, there was so much fungal bounty that the unaccustomed twins and Irina were overwhelmed.
Everything was thrown into the basket indiscriminately, and Nazar just smiled, sat everyone down on a thick log, and conducted a lesson. He laid out all the forage on a blanket, introduced each type, ruthlessly sorting the children’s finds into edible and inedible parts.
In the evening, they all fried mushrooms in a huge pan, then waited while they stewed in homemade sour cream, acquiring that unique taste only forest mushrooms from clearings can have. Nazar inspected the stove and said to Irina:
«Let’s restore the old lady a bit. We won’t notice how quickly autumn will come. We need to get her in order so there are no issues.»
«Yes, I would love to freshen it up a bit. I just don’t know anything about stoves. I’ve learned to fire and cook on one. The rest is a mystery to me,» Irina responded eagerly.
They decided to fix the stove tomorrow. Today, Irina would cook something warm, enough for a couple of days.
Nazar came early the next morning.
Lately, he couldn’t stay at home when it involved meeting with Irina and her children.
«I run like I’m going on a date,» he tempered his enthusiasm, then added, «Admit to yourself, for the first time in so many years, it feels good, warm, cozy next to a woman. When was the last time you even paid attention to women, probably can’t remember?»
Everything was ready at Irina’s house for the important process. Nazar brought tools to clean the chimney.
The work went smoothly. Vanya, Gleb, Maryana, and Vera burst into joyful laughter every time the soot-covered face of the master turned towards their cheerful group. After finishing the inspection of the interior, they began to decorate the exterior.
Nazar carefully inspected the almost even surface of the stove tank, and his gaze caught on a barely perceptible protrusion not visible to the naked eye.
«What’s this disorder?» he asked aloud.
Ira approached closer, and while Nazar went to wash up, she poked at the bump with a kitchen knife. They were going to whitewash the stove anyway. Behind the unevenness, a handful of old plaster instantly fell to the floor, revealing a small hole.
Curiosity prevailed, prompting her to dig into the hole, rotating the knife clockwise. A couple of minutes later, Nazar returned to the room. The stove already shone with an empty cavity at first glance.
«What’s this here?» the man was immensely surprised. «There shouldn’t have been any such pits in the structure of a Russian stove.»
Meanwhile, Irina reached into the newly formed hole and there, in its depths, she encountered something cold, dusty, covered with a layer of velvety growth. Pinching something small and round with her fingers, she pulled a dull yellow disk into the light of day.
Upon first inspection, it was clear that this was an ancient coin.
The woman reached into the stove’s den again, feeling that there were countless such coins hidden behind the false brickwork. Meanwhile, Nazar had already cleaned the first find and whistled in surprise.
«I’m not an expert, although we did have classes on precious metals and other valuable items at the Academy, but your find looks like a gold coin minted during the tsar’s reign.»
It was decided to dismantle the masonry and see what other surprises it hid. No sooner said than done. The cache in the stove yielded them 67 coins. Even through the dust of time, it was apparent that they were of various denominations. Nazar watched to see how the house owner would react to the unexpected treasures.
Irina was completely calm, but along with everyone else, she marveled at each coin extracted. No greedy sparkle appeared in her eyes, nor was there any contemplation written on her face.
Nazar recalled another story involving a small hoard. Once, while in the Caucasus, they found a pot containing several gold coins.
One of the local women quickly prepared a soapy solution and instructed everyone to be patient. The next day, the coins in that pot shone with golden gleams in the sun as if brand new. After instructing the twins to bring a basin from the corridor, Nazar got to work on the stove. He removed all the old bricks, cleaned them of clinging clods, checked everything inside again, and resealed the former hiding place.
Meanwhile, Irina grated soap, placed the coins at the bottom of the container, and poured warm water from the kettle over them. She didn’t even think about what to do next with the find. Nazar’s question distracted her from her domestic chores.
«What will you do, madam, with this inheritance from the past?»
She did not hesitate.
«They’re not my coins, not for me to enjoy… Let’s wash them thoroughly and hand them over to the state, as we should.»
The man thought to himself that he would have done exactly the same. He and Irina saw the world and its wonders with the same eyes. A revelation flashed through his mind. He understood whom Irina had been reminding him of all this time. The comparison was strange. She seemed to him like a beautiful oriole bird, which he often encountered in the forest.
The caring mother oriole always fluttered around her nest, which looked like a little woven basket, and nurtured her chicks, who eagerly opened their beaks in anticipation of food.
This nest of the oriole turned out to be golden — Nazar suddenly thought.
Another woman would have hidden the coins away, pulling them out one by one as needed. But this woman immediately thought that you can’t be satisfied with someone else’s goods. She decided to hand them over to the authorities without complaint. Curious.
The entire company was busy with enthusiasm until evening. Nazar finished the work with the stove. The children watched the process of washing the coins in the basin. The profile of Emperor Nicholas II had already clearly emerged.
On other coins, the double-headed eagle on the coat of arms of the Great Russian Empire was visible. It created an illusion of some kind of purification ritual from centuries of sins. No one knew, perhaps there was some mysterious family legend behind this hoard. By evening, everyone was exhausted. Irina heated up the dishes prepared in advance, and at dinner, everyone silently ate, even the twins who usually chattered nonstop.
After the meal, the children wandered off to their bedroom, and Irina went to see Nazar out. Then something unexpected happened. She suddenly hugged him from behind and asked:
«Will you stay?»
Nazar was stunned, his whole body went limp. In that moment, the truth he had been ashamed to admit even to himself instantly became clear.
He very much wanted this woman to be by his side. From the first moment he saw her in the van and gazed at her for a long time. He turned around swiftly, despite his wound. He felt a surge of strength as if he had drunk a magical elixir.
He lifted Irina in his arms, as if in a fog, and carried her to the bed.
In Irina’s life, there had never been another man but Artem. In Nazar’s fate, there was Nastya and a series of casual girlfriends for one or two nights, whose names he sometimes didn’t know or couldn’t remember now. In rare moments of rest, Nazar managed to think vaguely:
«In my life, there were none of those women I knew before.»
Empty, they weren’t worth a nail on the little finger of the one who now serenely hugged him. Irina’s thoughts flowed in the same vein.
«And you thought the world revolved around your husband, who brought you so much trouble. Naive saintliness. Such a man as Nazar is worth clutching with a dead grip and never letting go.»
Before dawn, Nazar whispered in Irina’s ear that it was time for him to leave. No, not because he wanted to, he would have stayed by her side forever. He was left with a firm feeling that they were now together, that Irina thought so too, that they would share all matters equally.
Two days later, having carefully cleaned all 67 gold coins, Nazar and Irina took them to the local police station.
Now they did everything together, as the man had anticipated, and it was so natural, as if they had been a family living together for a long time. Before the process of handing over the treasure to the state, Nazar researched on the internet how to do everything according to the law correctly. He prepared photos of the stove hiding surprises, took pictures of the coins laid out in neat rows on the kitchen table.
Unfortunately, it was not possible to record witness statements about the discovery of the treasures. All four of the twins were still minors and incapacitated.
At the police station, the whole department gathered to marvel at the miracle. The act of transferring the coins was drawn up, and Irina was informed that after the experts’ assessment, she would be paid a monetary amount equal to 50% of the income received by the treasury.
By the most modest estimates, the size of the reward was substantial. On the way back from the district center, Nazar and Irina were silent. Each was thinking about their own things. They started talking simultaneously, as if both had made the only right decision.
«I want to take children from the orphanage,» the woman began.
«And I just want to be with you, your twins, and all those children that we will still have.»
Irina did not start the conversation about the orphanage without reason. At the end of the summer, they went to the nearest town for backpacks and school supplies. Maryasha and Verochka were going to first grade for the first time this year, the boys—to third.
A small bus stopped near the store then. Many children of different ages, but only two chaperones. Ira immediately understood, the children from the orphanage were brought to stock up on pens and notebooks. She would have immediately forgotten this meeting, but she was riveted to the floor by the gaze of one boy. He looked so eagerly at her children and at her herself, hugging them by the shoulders.
So many unfulfilled dreams and silent longing were in his gaze that Irina shied away and quickly took her schoolchildren to another store. Nazar and Ira returned to the conversation about the orphanage after receiving the money.
«Is everyone ready to vote for our family to become even bigger?»
Various suggestions came in.
«Let’s look for twins in the orphanage too.»
«We’ll only take boys.»
«Guys, maybe we shouldn’t set rules in advance, the heart will tell,» Irina said.
«I have an idea,» Nazar interjected timidly. «We need to find out in our district orphanage who among the kids there has it hardest.»
In the director’s office of the orphanage, Ira and Nazar felt a bit uneasy.
Half an hour ago, they voiced their ideas to the director. Her response was as follows:
«I won’t hide it, you surprised me. Potential adopters immediately shy away from children with complex destinies and problems. Everyone wants, if they have already decided on such an extraordinary step, for their future wards to be without flaws.»
She went to the archive with files of the wards for a long time, then brought them five folders.
«These are my most deprived, most unsettled ones. Get acquainted with their stories, I will go out and give you time to make a decision.»
Irina decisively reached for the top folder. Opened the cover. From the first page, the serious eyes of a ten-year-old boy looked at her. Even in the photo, such bitterness splashed in them that she felt dreadful.
Name—Kirill. He had been living in the orphanage for three whole years. His parents died in a car accident, and he himself was thrown under the wheels, blamed for the tragedy of the truck. His leg had to be amputated just below the knee. The boy adapted well to the prosthesis, took care of himself in everyday matters independently. The description said—introverted, poor at making contact, sometimes aggressive.
Nazar, to whom she read all this aloud, shivered with his own memories, looked at Irina, but she just smiled warmly in response, understanding everything without words, she already knew the story of his injury.
«Well, here’s the first candidate for our friendly company. Are you for it, dear?»
«I am. Thought his disability would unsettle you?»
«Not at all. I’m confident we can fight for changes in his character and mood. The children will also understand us in this choice. I have no doubt about that.»
Irina, for some reason, pulled out the next folder from the very bottom. Untied the strings. This time it was the personal file of a girl named Ekaterina. From the photograph, attentive eyes looked at her, greatly enlarged by some specific glasses.
Age—seven years, in need of a serious ophthalmological operation, waiting for a quota for a place in the eye clinic. An excellent student, enjoys drawing, molding from plasticine, wood burning.
«What do you say?» asked Nazar. «The twins just carried all the stocks of clean albums, plasticine, and paints to the attic.»
«We’ll have to climb up, bring everything back,» Irina summed up immediately.
The next folder immediately caused smiles. It contained the file of one of two twin brothers. Next to it, the biography of the other was outlined.
However, they were like copies of each other. The trouble with these two boys was that, although they had been orphaned a long time ago, no one wanted to take two rascals prone to minor hooliganism at their 10 years old into the family at once.
«The girls and boys of ours will be happy. We’ll fulfill their wishes,» Irina decided immediately.
«That’s right, comrade commander,» Nazar chimed in with her.
And at that time, the owner of the office just entered.
She looked at the folders, stamped.
«I told you it would be better to choose a child not on this list. They all refuse these right away. Why such trouble when there are many other offers?»
«You don’t understand us. We want to adopt all these kids. Take them to our family orphanage in the village of Beryozovy. There is a middle school, a kindergarten too. What documents do we need to collect to finish all the formalities faster?»
The director of the orphanage was stunned into silence, and when she could speak again, tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.
«Guys, you are amazing. If I hadn’t been a witness to this event myself, who would have told, I wouldn’t have believed.»
In a cozy house by the river, in the village, work is in full swing.
Around the tall figure of Nazar, boys are bustling.
No joke, they begin the construction of their own sauna on firewood!
«Dad promised that each will be assigned his own front of work. Kiryuha is appointed foreman. His task is to distribute building materials, hand out tools to little workers, keep an account of logs, nails, and other household trivia.»
The boy’s pride in the entrusted task is so great that he almost stopped limping from pleasure. The other four male twins were completely worn out, the process just wouldn’t start, especially since dad Nazar promised to take the whole guard to the river in the evening. In the shade of an apple tree, Katyusha sits on a swing.
She recently had eye surgery, her face is still bandaged, but they say that when all the bandages are removed, she will have almost perfect vision.
Maryasha and Verochka help mom knead the dough. They decided to bake pies with various fillings—potatoes, cabbage, mushrooms, which they all brought together from the forest yesterday, apples, which the boys had gathered at the top of an old tree since morning.
Lately, it has been difficult for Irina to manage everything in the house. By the end of autumn, their family is expecting another addition. Nazar will become a father for the ninth time, well, as Irina a mother, of course. On a thick branch of the apple tree, camouflaged between the green leaves thanks to its coloring, an oriole watches the people and thinks, with these people, everything is like with us.
A large nest, chicks, there goes the mother preparing food for them.
Good attracts good. Even the little bird Oriole knows this law. But she is not going to teach wisdom to anyone. They must have already guessed, so everything in the house is fine and orderly. And it’s time for her to fly to her chicks. There’s no end to the work. And she was here, got distracted, admired.
