Katya moved into her new apartment a week ago. And for almost the entire week, she didn’t go outside.
But how could she, with so much to do? She bought the apartment she could afford. Her grandmother, a kind soul, left her an old dacha and a room in a communal apartment as inheritance. Katya sold all of it, added her own savings that she had been collecting for about five years, and finally had enough for a tiny one-room apartment in an old building.
Previously, marginal people had lived in the apartment, so it wasn’t just in poor condition — it was practically wrecked.
Katya had no money for repairs or cleaning; she had spent every penny to buy this apartment. But she wasn’t afraid of hardships, so from day one, she started cleaning everything.
She washed the floors, windows, and walls until they shone. She threw out a ton of trash that had accumulated in the apartment. She cleaned the bathroom and kitchen, which, in the end, turned out to be in decent condition.
The furniture was given by relatives and friends. The sofa came from her parents, the kitchen table was given by her best friend who just wanted to buy a new one anyway. Chairs of different colors and shapes were brought by anyone who felt like it. Katya didn’t even remember where the computer desk came from.
From time to time, people showed up at the apartment. Her dad came to help with repairing kitchen cabinets, friends together tore down old wallpaper so Katya could put up new ones (which someone had also donated, though they badly miscalculated the number of rolls needed), her mom helped tidy up, and even her brother came to assemble furniture.
Katya was incredibly happy to have such a great family and friends. There was someone to rely on. Moreover, she hardly asked anyone for help; she didn’t want to bother anyone. They called her themselves, asking what kind of help she needed.
In the end, after a week, the apartment was unrecognizable. Nice furniture, fresh wallpaper, cleanliness everywhere. Even a beautiful fluffy carpet was proudly displayed in the center of the room — a gift from her mom.
And that’s when Katya realized it was time to leave her den for at least a little while. Maybe even meet the neighbors.
Almost immediately, she ran into the neighbor on the stairwell. She learned the neighbor had two children (the neighbor had already apologized in advance for the evening noise when the kids did homework and the mom helped them loudly), and got to know a little about the other neighbors. Overall, it seemed the building welcomed her kindly. People here knew each other.
Gradually, Katya got to know almost everyone. Except one neighbor she only met two weeks later.
An elderly grandmother, leaning on a cane, slowly descended the broken steps of their entrance.
Katya politely held the door open for the old woman, who thanked her.
“Are you new here?” she asked.
“Yes, I moved in recently. To number thirty-five.”
“Oh, yes… Not very nice people lived there before you. But you don’t seem like that.”
“I’m not,” Katya said confidently. She had been cleaning the apartment for a week, so she knew she wasn’t like that. “My name’s Katya.”
“I’m Nadezhda Vasilievna.”
“Nice to meet you. Where are you headed?”
“To the store, to buy fresh bread.”
“Let me buy it for you,” Katya offered, “I’m going to the store anyway.”
Katya noticed the walk was hard for the grandmother.
“Oh no, I’ll go myself. Need to keep moving. And I’m just buying bread,” she said. “Masha brings me the rest. She comes three times a week.”
“Is that your daughter?” Katya asked.
“No, granddaughter. Well, kind of…”
The grandmother quietly shuffled towards the store, and Katya watched her with surprise. What did “kind of” mean? It was curious, but Katya decided not to pry where she wasn’t invited. If the grandmother wanted to tell her, she would.
Over time, Katya almost forgot about the conversation until one day she bumped into a young woman carrying bags full of groceries.
Katya held the door open and smiled.
“Are you Nadezhda Vasilievna’s granddaughter?” she asked with a smile.
“Yes, how did you know?” the woman smiled back.
“She told me about you. And I hadn’t seen you around before, but I saw you with bags. I figured you must be going to Nadezhda Vasilievna.”
They smiled at each other again, then went their separate ways.
Katya was waiting for a taxi. She decided to visit her parents and catch up. Since getting her own apartment, she rarely saw them. And her mom seemed to be taking it personally.
But the taxi was delayed. One driver canceled, so she had to order another. No one wanted to come for a while, but finally, someone accepted the order. Still, she had to wait fifteen minutes.
The weather was nice, so Katya sat on a bench, enjoying the spring sunshine. As she sat, the same Masha, Nadezhda Vasilievna’s granddaughter, came out.
“You’re quick,” Katya smiled.
“Yes, rushing to work. I work evenings as a waitress in a café. During the day I study.”
“Got it. Which way are you headed?”
Masha replied, and it turned out they were going the same way.
“I’m waiting for a taxi, let me give you a ride.”
“That’d be great,” the neighbor’s granddaughter smiled. “I’ve been running around and lost track of time.”
Masha sat next to Katya on the bench, also soaking in the sun.
“Nadezhda Vasilievna is lucky,” Katya smiled. “She has a very caring granddaughter. She said you visit her three times a week and bring groceries.”
“Oh, she exaggerates. I shop once a week, and the rest of the time I just drop by with gifts.”
“Still, that’s great. Not all children do that, and even fewer grandchildren.”
Masha smiled sadly.
“Actually, I’m not even her granddaughter.”
“How’s that?” Katya asked in surprise, recalling Nadezhda Vasilievna’s earlier words that Masha was kind of a granddaughter.
“Well, it happened like this…” Masha looked at Katya, who decided not to press for details. But unexpectedly, Masha continued:
“My mother was a drinker. I never knew my father. When I was seven, my mother met a man who also liked to drink — that’s how they connected. Of course, I was scared; there were now two people drinking all the time at home. There was little food, no one cared about clothes. At least I was enrolled in school.
Katya listened empathetically but didn’t yet understand what role Nadezhda Vasilievna played in her life.
“One day my stepfather said we were going to visit grandma — Nadezhda Vasilievna, his mother. My mother’s parents were gone, also heavy drinkers. I didn’t even imagine what kind of grandmother my stepfather had. I remember clearly — the grandma didn’t want to open the door at first. She didn’t get along with her son, who kept stealing money from her. Then, as she told it, she looked through the peephole and saw the girl next to him. Me, basically.
Katya listened without interrupting. It sounded like a movie plot, and it was painful knowing it was real.
“She opened the door right away and asked who was with him. He said I was his daughter now. Of course, that was just showy talk. He didn’t care about me. Neither did my mother. He wanted to get to grandma to steal money. But grandma wasn’t timid — she kicked the stepfather out and took me into her apartment. I remember eating my first delicious meal there! I felt awkward eating every last bit but couldn’t stop.
“And then what happened?” Katya asked breathlessly.
“Then grandma asked me all about myself, where I came from. I was so afraid she’d tell me to go home. But she said, ‘Get ready.’ I remember holding her hand tightly. With her — a stranger — I felt comfortable. She went to my mother and said she was taking me away. And if they resisted, she’d contact social services, and it wouldn’t be pleasant for them. Though I think my mother was glad.
“She really took you?” Katya asked.
“She did,” Masha smiled. “She turned to me and asked, ‘Will you live with me?’ I nodded. I don’t know if she made it official, but I lived with her. That’s when my happy childhood began. She took a complete stranger’s child, knowing what kind of son she had and the woman he chose.
“Wow,” Katya breathed.
“Yes, I don’t know how she decided to do it. She was already older. But she raised me, brought me up. Then my mother died, my stepfather passed away earlier, and I inherited an apartment. When I started studying, I moved there. But I never forget grandma. And never will. It doesn’t matter she’s not my biological grandmother — she’s my closest and dearest person. I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t come into my life.”
The taxi arrived. They rode in silence to Masha’s work. Only when Masha got out did Katya say:
“You’re very lucky with Nadezhda Vasilievna. But don’t forget she’s lucky to have you, too. She’s not alone anymore.”
Masha smiled and nodded, then walked briskly toward the café.
Katya was heading to her parents but couldn’t get the conversation out of her mind. How often a brave decision can save the fate of several people. Nadezhda Vasilievna and Masha found each other, and if not for that, who knows how their lives would have turned out. And how good it was that things happened just this way.
