Serguey had always been different from his peers, and his father often wondered about it. However, Pavel Ivanovich didn’t just love his son; he felt a deep sense of pride in him. When his wife, Natasha, was by his side, he would frequently ask her:
«Why do we have such a strange son? There has never been anyone like him in our family. Where does he come from?»
Natasha would simply smile in response:
«Pasha, stop it! Why do you always call Serioja strange? He is a thoroughly modern boy: he plays sports, he’s interested in all sorts of things. It’s just that he prefers poetry and drawing to cars and plastic guns. Does everyone have to be the same?»
Pavel Ivanovich would sigh deeply:
«I was hoping that as he grew up, he would become more ‘typical’ and leave these unusual interests behind.»
Natasha, smiling, would reply, «Pasha, people don’t understand that times are changing. But in reality, the essence remains the same. Nowadays, everyone chooses their own path. And Serioja… he is just special.»
Pavel Ivanovich avoided discussing family matters outside the home. He did his best to hide his concerns from Natasha so she wouldn’t worry. She simply knew that he worked with cars and owned a showroom where he sold both new and used vehicles. That was all she knew. What mattered to Pavel was that his family wanted for nothing.
When Serioja turned 15, during his birthday celebration, Natasha began to feel unwell. Serioja was the first to notice. He approached his mother and asked with concern: «Mom, why are you so pale? Are you not feeling well?»
«No, no, I’m just a little tired,» she replied.
«Mom, why all this fuss? We could just sit quietly, have some cake, and that’s it,» Serioja suggested.
«Serioja, you’ve always been against big parties, but fifteen is an important milestone. Besides, you have so many friends! Everything is fine, go celebrate with them.»
Serioja went to join the guests, but before doing so, he turned to his father: «Dad, please keep a close eye on Mom. She’s pale and has sweat on her forehead. She says she’s fine, but… I’m not sure.»
Pavel Ivanovich looked at him in astonishment: «What do you mean?»
«Just watch her, please, okay?»
Pavel turned his gaze toward his wife and realized his son was right. He decided to tell her to go rest, explaining that they could manage on their own.
Serioja felt frightened, not only because his mother looked ill, but also because she had agreed to rest—which was anything but usual for her.
Later, after the guests had left, Natasha’s condition deteriorated. Pavel called an ambulance. The doctors diagnosed a serious, rapidly progressing illness. Within three months, the disease completely destroyed her. For Serioja, it was a terrible shock. He watched his father, who had always been strong and confident, become weak and lost.
One evening, seeing his father drinking alone in his office, Serioja decided to speak to him: «Dad, it’s hard, I know.»
Pavel smiled, pointing to his glass: «You mean this? Yes, it helps. It helps to forget, if only for a moment.»
Serioja sighed deeply: «Then pour me one too.»
Pavel got angry: «Have you lost your mind or what?»
«What about me, Dad? You found a way to comfort yourself, but me… I don’t even have anyone to talk to.»
Pavel looked at the glass thoughtfully, then poured its contents into the ficus pot. Serioja stood frozen, then said: «Mom would have definitely killed you for that.»
Unable to hold back, he burst into tears. His father walked over and hugged him: «Cry if you want. Sometimes, it does you good.»
From that moment on, their bond became even stronger. They became a whole, like two halves of the same heart.
After school, Serioja enrolled in philology, while continuing to attend art school. Although he already had his diploma, he still took private lessons. Sometimes, Pavel Ivanovich would grumble: «Why don’t you choose something more ‘serious’? Self-respect comes with the money you earn yourself. Why these books and drawings?»
Serioja, not taking his eyes off the canvas he had been working on passionately for a month, finally replied: «Why have a lot of money, anyway?»
Pavel Ivanovich was speechless for a moment, then quickly found an answer: «With money, you can buy whatever you want.»
«Really? Absolutely everything?» the son asked, raising an eyebrow.
This question made his father think. «Well… maybe not health… I see what you’re getting at. Yes, there are things that cannot be bought, but everything else is within reach.»
Serioja looked at his father calmly and confidently: «Dad, if the most important things in life cannot be bought, is it worth suffering for everything else?»
Pavel Ivanovich stood up abruptly and began pacing the room. «Where do you get these ideas? You’re just used to living without a care thanks to my money!»
«Dad, if we had none of this, but still had Mom, would we be any less happy?» Serioja asked calmly.
A long pause followed before Pavel acknowledged: «Maybe so… But that’s another story.»
«No, Dad, you’re wrong,» the son retorted.
«What do you mean, are you mocking me? Imagine I die and leave you nothing. What will you do? How will you survive?»
Serioja smiled: «Dad, you’re talking about this way too soon! But seriously, I’ll find a job that allows me to earn a living while doing what I love. I’ll just continue living my life.»
Between them, a sort of invisible divide seemed to widen, yet Serioja expressed his opinion honestly, knowing his father wouldn’t be angry.
«So, that means you won’t be disappointed if I leave you no inheritance?» Pavel asked.
His son thought for a moment: «No. It’s your decision, and you will choose those who you think truly deserve to get it. You know, Dad, when I was little, I had a dream. I imagined living in a quiet little village, without all your partners, without those endless negotiations and all that businessman routine. Where we would all be together—you, Mom, and me. Just the family. Without the noise.»
Pavel Ivanovich stared intensely at his son’s face. «You’re weird, Serioja. I don’t think anything really bothers you.»
«Why, Dad? I’m interested in everything, really. I like to draw, to create something eternal that will always remain. Look at this, for example,» Serioja said, showing his painting to his father.
Painted on the canvas was Natasha. Pavel froze, his chin trembled, and tears began to roll down his cheeks.
«See, Dad? We can see Mom every day and remember her as if she were alive. It doesn’t matter that she is no longer with us. She will always remain a part of our life.»
«Maybe you’re right… But you have to admit that living without financial worries is nice too,» Pavel said, wiping his eyes.
Serioja smiled: «Of course, Dad. Who could doubt that?»
