Barely had I stepped out of the airport doors when I was instantly soaked and chilled to the bone. A terrible downpour, strong wind — even an umbrella and a cap were useless in such filthy weather. And my suitcase was unbelievably heavy: I had bought gifts in Germany for all my relatives. Meanwhile, the taxi I had ordered still hadn’t arrived. I called the dispatcher again.
“Oh, please wait just a little longer. The driver picked up a profitable fare on the way. He’ll drop off that passenger and then rush over to you.”
“Let him keep going about his business,” I snapped. “I’m canceling the order. I’ll figure something out myself.”
I flagged down a private driver in a shabby old Zhiguli, even though he charged an outrageous price. But what else could I do — keep freezing and getting soaked?
When I got home, I told my husband about my awful travel ordeal and complained about the irresponsible taxi driver.
“Couldn’t you have met me, Alyosha? You knew perfectly well what time my flight arrived. We talked regularly on Viber.”
“I was at the office. My dear, I was embarrassed to ask for time off. My wife is traveling abroad, and I’m supposed to discuss something like that with management?”
“Right, of course. I was at some luxury resort, not in that miserable city of Dortmund, watching and listening to stupid master classes on a business trip,” I said sarcastically.
My beloved husband began acting spoiled.
“Will there at least be something to eat, Natashenka? I’m starving. My stomach is growling.”
“Of course. I’ll boil some store-bought vareniki with potatoes. The package says they also have veal liver inside. Filling.”
“Ugh, what unspeakable nastiness. You should cook something homemade, something tasty,” he grimaced. “You cook wonderfully. I know what you’re capable of.”
“Sure. Braise chicken or pork fillet, make beef roast with green peas — the moment I walk through the door, before I’ve even taken off my shoes or had time to wash my hands. Besides, all of that is frozen. You could perfectly well have made dinner for yourself and your wife, after taking the meat out of the freezer in advance. You’re an adult. Capable. Homo sapiens, as they say. Everything I listed is very easy to prepare. You could have made an effort, and then we both would have eaten with pleasure. I’ve only just flown in. When was I supposed to start making delicacies?”
The next day, I boiled supermarket dumplings. They were absolutely awful. I poured plenty of ketchup over them, sprinkled them with dill and chopped garlic, and served them.
“What is this rubbish again? You’re home now,” my husband protested.
“By the way, just like you, I work. I’ll make something normal by the weekend. Stuffed cabbage rolls, for example. Or something simpler, but still edible — not supermarket ready-made food.”
He made a face, but ate it. On Thursday I fried some syrniki I had bought from a kiosk.
“Again, inedible food,” Lesha complained. “Can I have some milk?”
“The little bull hasn’t been milked yet,” I answered, using the joke my grandmother used to say. “You drive around in a Ford. Bought with our shared money, by the way. Why didn’t you stop by the store? They sell milk there, yogurt, sour cream, and kefir. Plenty of other groceries too. How much salary did you bring home this month?”
“Almost forty thousand. A little less, of course,” he said, embarrassed.
“And I, by the way, brought in eighty. I ride home from work on a bus packed with passengers. There’s nowhere to sit because the seats are already taken from the terminal stop. My colleagues’ husbands pick them up by car. I’m turning green with envy.”
“But gas is expensive,” he protested.
“And is your wife cheap? Logical.”
“Our public transport is excellent. Runs on schedule. Why feel sorry for yourself?”
“I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’m just horribly tired. I can barely stand by the end of the day. I come home later than you every day. Do you even notice that? I’m a deputy director. I have 200 people under me. Do you have that many?”
“Only six,” he lowered his eyes and blushed.
A heart-to-heart with my parents
When I went to visit my parents, I complained to them about Alexey.
“I’ve noticed for a long time that he’s lazy and an absolute egoist,” my father declared.
My mother agreed:
“Tell me what kind of husband you have, and I’ll tell you what kind of woman you are. Spineless! Either retrain him or divorce him. You’ll find another man. You’re such a beauty, and a successful woman too. No children. You’ll find someone.”
My female friends at work told me the same thing. It all came down to what my mother had said:
“What are you with a husband like that? A chicken plus a horse. Is that happiness?”
“Yes, an excellent combination,” I laughed, though by then I had started thinking seriously about the sad state of affairs in our family.
Indeed, I was a weak-willed fool, and I certainly did not consider myself happy. There was no trace left of the love I once had, although I still felt affection for him. Before the wedding, I had seen what he was like, but I had hoped he would change.
I began re-educating him
I waited until Lesha finished listening to his favorite program, took the laptop away from him, and invited him into the kitchen for a talk. He was surprised, but he drank the tea and ate the candies I offered with pleasure.
“Is there some problem, Natali?”
“Yes. And it’s sitting right across from me,” I answered calmly, with a smile.
“What did I do? Drinking and partying are out of the question. You’re my only one.”
“That’s true. But the happiness of family life is disappearing somewhere. Am I supposed to carry potatoes from the supermarket myself? We only have enough left for one batch of mashed potatoes. I asked you to buy potatoes, beets, onions, beans, rice, and millet. Is that difficult? Roll the cart with vegetables and everything else to the car, load it into the trunk, and bring it home. The security guard will take the cart from outside; you don’t even need to return it. It takes five minutes.”
“Natochka, I forgot. I’ll definitely do everything. It slipped my mind.”
“I wrote the list long ago. It’s been in your pocket for a week. I was counting on your help.”
“I’ll bring everything written on it tomorrow,” he said, slapping his forehead with his palm.
“And what about your minimal income? What do you have to say about that?”
“Management offered me a solid promotion. But I’m afraid of a position like that. The salary is almost like yours. But the responsibility…”
“You’ll handle serious work. You’re not an infant. Tear yourself away from the computer chair and take on something prestigious. Who knows, maybe you’ll grow into an even more serious position. Otherwise, this is some kind of kindergarten. Your wife is teaching you independence. Is that normal?”
“I understand, Natasha. I’m embarrassed myself. You should have kicked me into shape earlier so I’d open my eyes.”
“Good. We’ve sorted out the bigger issues and various nuances. There are still smaller things left. Before I come home from work, is it difficult to pour detergent into the washing machine and put in your home clothes and mine, socks, underwear, and bed linen? The machine washes while you watch football or hockey and drink beer. Next to you, the robot vacuum spins around, sucks up dust, and washes the floors. Is that hard labor? I don’t think so. Smart appliances are working while you rest. When you go into the kitchen, do you notice the full garbage bags? You should. The trash container is five steps away. I take them out in the dark after coming home from work. That’s my family happiness.”
“My love, I’ll start helping with the housework. I promise. You’ve rinsed my brains out. You should have done it earlier. I’ve been making you unhappy.”
“You noticed correctly. Our life is shared, and so is the household. Why should only one person drag all of it on their shoulders? Wash a mountain of your dirty dishes, run the washing machine, and so on.”
When Alexey began bringing home a good salary, we finally saved up for a vacation in Italy and visited Lake Como — unbelievably beautiful. Then we had a vacation in Spain. After that, I felt truly happy, especially when I found out I was pregnant. And when little Nastya was born and my husband began cooing over her adorably and constantly taking care of her so I could sleep, I felt even greater happiness.
