Alexey stopped the car. How many times had he planned, intended to come, but never found the time? While his mother was alive, he wasn’t around—and after she was gone, it was no different.
The memories filled him with disgust toward himself. All it took was a little shake for him to realize that the world he’d built around himself was nothing more than a mirage. Not a single word or deed had any real meaning. He even felt gratitude toward Irina, his ex-wife, for opening his eyes.
Then, in one moment, everything crumbled. His picture-perfect family life, admired by those around him, and his close friendships turned out to be a sham. It emerged that his wife and best friend had betrayed him, and those who knew the truth had kept silent. It was a total collapse. Everyone close to him had betrayed him. After the divorce, Alexey returned to his hometown. Eight years had passed since his mother’s funeral, and not once during that time had he found a moment to visit her grave. Only now did he realize that his mother was the only person who would never have betrayed him.
Alexey married late. He was 33, and his chosen one was 25. Oh, how proud he felt when he saw Irina by his side—she appeared striking and refined. Later, when she screamed in his face that she had hated him throughout their brief life together, that being with him was pure torture, Alexey realized just how blind he had been. Her face, distorted with rage, looked like a horrible mask—repulsive and terrifying. And yet, he had almost given in. Irina had cried so genuinely, begging for forgiveness, saying that he was always busy while she was left alone.
But when he firmly declared the divorce, Irina revealed her true colors. Alexey got out of the car and pulled out a huge bouquet of flowers. He slowly walked along the cemetery path. Over the years, everything had surely become overgrown. He hadn’t even been there when the tombstone was installed. Everything was handled online, remotely. That’s how quickly life can pass by.
To his surprise, the fence and monument looked well-kept, not a blade of grass out of place. Someone had been tending the grave. Who? Perhaps one of his mother’s friends—most likely, they were still alive. Since his son had not found time to come? He opened the gate. “Well, hello, Mom,” he whispered. His throat tightened, his eyes stung, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
He was a successful entrepreneur—a stern man who never cried or showed sadness. Yet now he wept like a child, and he didn’t want to stop the tears. It was as if his soul were being cleansed, and everything tied to Irina and his other failures was fading away. It felt like his mother was gently stroking his head and whispering, “Don’t worry, everything will be alright, you’ll see.” He sat in silence for a long time, conversing in his mind with his mother. He recalled the days when he would scrape his knees and cry, and how she would rub his wounds with antiseptic, blow on them, and soothe him: “It’s nothing, all my boys get scraped knees; they heal, and there won’t be a trace.” And indeed, they healed. Each time, the pain became easier to bear.
“You get used to everything—everything. But you can’t get used to betrayal,” she would repeat. Now he understood the deep meaning of her words. Back then they had seemed ordinary, but now he realized how wise his mother had been. She had raised him without a father, yet she never coddled him; instead, she raised him to be a normal, capable man.
How much time had passed? Alexey didn’t know, nor did he want to look at the clock. Now, he felt at peace. He decided to stay in town for a few days. Something had to be done about his mother’s house. Sure, he could pay the neighbor to watch over it, but how much longer would he let it lie idle? He smiled, remembering how he’d met her daughter. When he arranged for someone to look after the house, he met Katya. He had been so miserable then, so bitter—and Katya turned out to be kind. They met one evening, talked, and everything happened naturally. In the morning, he left, leaving a note indicating where to put the key.
In Katya’s eyes, he might have looked unremarkable. But he hadn’t promised anything. Everything had happened by mutual consent. Katya had come to his mother’s house after her divorce from a tyrant of a husband. She told him about it. She was having a hard time, and so was he. And then, everything just happened.
“Uncle, could you help me?” a child’s voice called out. Suddenly turning around, he saw a little girl of about seven or eight, holding an empty bucket.
“I need some water to water the flowers. My mom and I just planted them, and today Mom fell ill. It’s so hot outside—they’ll wither. There’s water very close by, but I can’t carry the bucket all the way. And I don’t want Mom to know I came here alone. If I carry a little at a time, it’ll take so long, and she’ll figure it out.”
Alexey smiled: “Of course, show me where to go.”
The little girl went ahead, chattering non-stop. Within five minutes, Alexey knew everything—how she had told her mom not to drink cold water in the heat, and that now Mom was sick. Liza had come to visit her grandmother’s grave, who had died a year ago. Grandmother would have scolded Mom, and she wouldn’t have fallen ill. Besides, Liza had been in school for a year now and dreamed of graduating with top honors.
Alexey felt a lightness in his heart. How sincere children are! He now understood that he would have been happy if he had a normal, loving wife and a child waiting for him after work. His Irina had resembled an expensive doll, and she never even wanted to hear about children. She said one must be utterly foolish to sacrifice one’s beauty for the sake of a whining little person. They had been married for five years. And now Alexey realized—he had not one warm memory of their family life.
He placed the bucket inside the fence, and Liza carefully began to water the flowers. Alexey looked at the monument and froze. In the photo was the neighbor with whom he’d arranged the house-sitting—Katya’s mother. He turned his gaze to the little girl.
“Galina Petrovna was your grandmother?”
“Yes. And did you know her?”
“Then why do I ask? You were at Grandma Galya’s grave. My mom and I always come there to clean and bring flowers.”
“You with your mom?” Alexey asked, puzzled.
“Well, yes, with my mom. I already said that Mom doesn’t allow me to go to the cemetery alone.”
The little girl took her bucket and glanced around. “Well, I’m off—otherwise she’ll worry and ask too many questions, and I really can’t lie.”
“Wait, let me give you a ride.”
Liza shook her head: “I can’t get into a car with strangers, and I don’t want to upset Mom—she’s already sick.”
Quickly, Liza said goodbye and ran off. Alexey returned to his mother’s grave and sat down to think. “Something’s odd. Katya didn’t live here; she came to my mother’s house for a while, but now it appears that Katya lives here, and she has a daughter.
Back then, I knew nothing about Katya having a child. Although who knows how old Liza is? Perhaps Katya got married and had her.” After sitting a while longer, Alexey finally got up. He understood that most likely now Katya herself was taking care of the house—and that he paid her.
Well, in principle, what did it matter to him whom he paid? Alexey drove up to the house. His heart tightened. The house hadn’t changed at all. It seemed that in just another minute, Mom would step onto the porch, wipe away her tears with the corner of her apron, and rush over to hug him. Alexey lingered in the car for a long time. Mom didn’t appear. Finally, he stepped into the yard. Wow! Even the flowers had been replanted.
Everything was beautiful and immaculate. Well done, Katya. I’ll have to thank her. Inside the house, everything sparkled with cleanliness and freshness—as if someone had lived there and only stepped out for a little while. Alexey sat at the table. He lingered for a moment, then quickly got up. He needed to speak with the neighbor—to settle all the issues before he could relax. The door opened, and Liza greeted him.
“Oh, is that you?” she said, putting a finger to her lips and giving a conspiratorial wink. “But don’t mention anything to Mom, okay? We already saw each other at the cemetery.”
Alexey pretended to lock his mouth, and Liza burst into giggles.
“Come in,” a voice called from inside the room. “I’m feeling a bit better, but don’t come too close, or you might catch something.”
Katya looked at him with a frightened expression: “You?”
Alexey smiled: “Hello.”
He looked around. “And where’s your husband?” he asked, though he already sensed that he wasn’t there—and perhaps never had been.
“Alexey, you… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your mother’s death. With work in town being so hectic, I ended up taking care of the house myself.”
“My condolences, Katya. And about the house… thank you so much. I came back—and it’s as if Mom had just stepped out for a minute. Everything is clean and cozy. Are you staying long?”
“No, just a few days.”
“And what do you think about selling the house? Are you going to sell it?”
Alexey shrugged: “I haven’t thought about it yet. Katya, here…” He took out an envelope. “This is for you—for taking such excellent care, sort of like a bonus.”
He placed a sizable wad of money on the table.
“Alexey, what are you doing? You really don’t need to!”
Liza smiled: “Thank you, Uncle Alexey. Mom has long dreamed of a new dress, and I want a bicycle.”
He laughed: “Good job, Liza.”
Just like he had been as a child—money never passed him by.
That evening, Alexey realized he was falling ill. It seemed he’d caught something. His temperature was high. He remembered where Mom always kept the thermometer, checked his temperature, and realized something had to be done.
Not knowing which medicine to take, he sent an SMS to the neighbor’s number—now he knew that it was Katya who answered. “What should I take for a high fever?” Ten minutes later, the neighbor was already at his place.
“Oh my, why did you even come into the house? Am I the one who infected you?”
“You’re the one who’s sick—what are you worrying about?”
“Everything’s fine now.”
Katya handed him some pills, and Liza made him tea.
“You’ll get burned.”
“Who? Liza?”
“No, I’m more likely to get burned. She’s our jack-of-all-trades.”
Alexey smiled. Something in his mind clicked, just like in childhood. And then, the thoughts came together so clearly that he even sat down on the couch.
“Katya,” he said.
She looked at him warily: “What’s wrong?”
“And when was Liza born?”
Katya slumped onto a chair, exhausted: “Why do you need to know that?”
“Katya?”
The woman turned to her daughter: “Liza, run to the store—buy a couple of lemons and something to drink.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Liza ran out the door, and Katya began to speak: “Alexey, let’s be clear right away. Liza has nothing to do with you. We don’t need anything. We have everything; just forget it.”
“What? So it’s true? Katya, do you even realize what you’re saying? Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Alexey jumped up. “I decided to keep the child back then. You had no part in that decision, so I didn’t say anything. I never even imagined you’d come back. And I certainly didn’t expect you to be interested.”
Alexey sat down: “I must have hurt you back then.”
Katya shrugged: “Well, it’s alright—I managed, as you can see.”
Alexey was silent. He was in shock. All these years he had lived an artificial life, and the true, genuine life was right here at home, in the faces of little Liza and Katya. Now he looked at her and wondered: what more did he need?
Nothing. He no longer needed to search for anything.
“Alexey?” Katya asked, worried. “What will you do? I beg you—don’t say anything to Liza. If you leave and forget, she’ll be left waiting and worrying.”
“No, Katya, that won’t happen. How can you think so poorly of me? I don’t even know what to do yet myself.”
That night, he dreamed of his mother. She smiled and rejoiced, saying she had always dreamed of having a granddaughter like Liza.
Alexey left after three days. Katya sat at the table listening to him. “In any case, I’ll sort out some matters and come back—in a week, maybe a little longer. And I won’t come back just for nothing. I’ll come back to win you back. I promise I won’t tell Liza anything if… if it doesn’t work out. But I’ll help regardless. Katya, tell me— is there at least a chance?”
“A chance at happiness, at a family.”
She shrugged and wiped away a tear: “I don’t know, Alexey.”
He managed to return only after three weeks. He stopped his car not at his own house, but at Katya’s. He pulled out huge bags of gifts for Liza and Katya and went inside.
“Hello,” he said.
Katya was sewing something. She looked up and offered a faint smile: “You came?”
“I said I would come. And where…” Liza emerged from the room.
“Hi, Uncle Alexey.”
Katya stood: “I’ve thought about everything you said, and… Liza, I want to introduce you to your father.”
Alexey dropped the bags. “Thank you,” he whispered.
They left after a week. Both houses were put up for sale. They decided to start life with a clean slate. Liza was still a bit shy—sometimes calling Alexey ‘dad,’ other times ‘Uncle Alexey.’ And he laughed, hugging both the little girl and Katya, believing that now everything would finally be as it was meant to be from the very beginning.
