Vadim sat for a long time staring at his phone. He’d been putting it off as it was. Finally, taking a deep breath, he pressed the call button. One ring, two… “No, I can’t,” he cursed himself for being a coward and was about to hang up when Misha’s voice came through the receiver:
“Hey, you devil! Where did you disappear to?”
“Hey. Yeah, I’ve been swamped…”
“Everything okay? Need any help?” his friend responded immediately.
“No, everything’s fine. How are you guys?”
“We’re good too. Only Lera’s worrying us. She fell in love, can you imagine? One minute she’s crying, the next she’s dancing. Sometimes you can’t get her out of the house, sometimes she’s out till late. And the main thing—she’s tight-lipped like a partisan. And you still haven’t gotten married?”
Vadim swallowed, like before a jump from a ten-meter platform. There it was, the slippery question.
“No, but I’m going to,” he said, his voice suddenly rough.
“Don’t tell me someone finally conquered the bachelor’s heart? It’s time, my friend, long past time. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding. I’ll be offended if you cheap out.”
“Of course. No way without you.”
“Are you planning to come see us?”
Vadim had been waiting for that question. That was it—no turning back.
“Actually, I’m… here. I’ve arrived.”
“What? Then why are you keeping quiet, you devil? Did you settle into a hotel? Natasha will be offended. When are you coming over?”
“Hey, slow down. I can’t keep up with your questions,” Vadim laughed. “I’ll drop by sometime.”
He’d arrived a long time ago—six months back. But his friend didn’t need to know that. He’d been buying an apartment, furnishing it, sorting out work, and on top of that his father had been ill. And most of all, because of Lera he hadn’t shown up before the right time.
“No ‘sometime.’ Hear me? I know you. Come over right now,” Misha fired up.
“It’s already late today. Tomorrow,” Vadim promised.
“See that you do—we’ll be waiting tomorrow. I’ll go make Natasha happy.”
So, the first step was taken. Ah, if only his friend knew what a pig he and Natasha were about to be served, he wouldn’t be so glad. Lera could be proud of him. Instead he was behaving like a timid youth afraid to meet his girlfriend’s parents. “And Lera—good girl—didn’t spill a word. Unbelievable, I held her as a newborn in my arms, and now I want to marry her.”
But first things first…
They’d been friends since freshman year—Misha, Vadim, and Natasha. Both fell in love with the beautiful, intelligent girl. Lots of people liked her, but no one could compete with Misha and Vadim. Because of her, even they quarreled; neither wanted to yield her to the other. If Natasha guessed at the passions raging in her friends’ hearts, she pretended not to, treated them both evenly, didn’t particularly single anyone out and, to her credit, didn’t take advantage of her influence.
The guys were furious; things almost came to blows. Then they agreed that if their friend chose one of them—or someone else entirely—they wouldn’t interfere. Even so, each tried with all his might to pull Natasha’s attention to himself. But she didn’t favor either. The guys had nothing to do but wait.
At the end of their third year, Natasha suddenly started showing interest in Vadim. He swelled with pride. And Misha went mad with disappointment and love, but a deal was a deal. He withdrew so completely he stopped coming to the institute just so he wouldn’t have to see the two of them.
Vadim bought a bottle of vodka and went to his friend. They drank and talked all evening. By the end Vadim realized he didn’t love Natasha with the same force Misha did. Misha truly didn’t want to live without her.
He solved the problem simply—he made it look as if he’d fallen for another girl. Natasha, of course, got jealous, gave Vadim a scene, cried, accused him of betrayal and treachery. Just as Vadim had calculated, she found comfort at Misha’s side.
And he loved her so selflessly that soon Natasha answered him with a genuinely sincere feeling. Vadim, of course, was jealous—love doesn’t vanish at once—but he understood that Natasha would be happier with Misha. He never regretted what he’d done. Neither Misha nor Natasha suspected what role he had played in their family happiness.
They married right after getting their diplomas. Vadim was the best man at their wedding. Nine months later Natasha gave birth to a daughter. The friends went together to the maternity ward to meet her and the baby. Both were happy, with flowers. The midwife even hesitated over which of them to hand the treasured bundle tied with a pink ribbon.
Misha stepped forward, took his daughter in his arms, then passed her to Vadim.
“Here, take her. I’m afraid I’ll drop her, I’m too worked up,” he whispered to his friend.
Vadim took the baby, peeked into the bundle, and among the lace saw a tiny miracle with pink bow-shaped lips, a button nose, and velvety cheeks. His heart responded with such warmth and love that tears of tenderness welled in his eyes. “She could have been my daughter,” he thought.
A few days later, Vadim suddenly left. First to Yaroslavl, then to the North. When he came home on vacation, he visited his friends. Lera was growing up a copy of her mom. From a skinny girl with thin braids she turned into a slender, beautiful young woman. He was kindly envious of his friends’ happiness. As for himself, he never managed to meet the one who would capture his heart. There were women, but it never got to a wedding.
He always felt something special for Lera. Maybe because of that moment in the maternity ward, when his heart flooded with love at the sight of that little miracle. Coming home on leave this time, he was struck by how grown-up she’d become, how much she resembled Natasha, whom he had once loved. She no longer ran to him happily, didn’t kiss his cheek the way she used to when he appeared at their apartment. He chalked up her embarrassment around him to growing up.
The vacation, as always, ended far too quickly. His parents were aging, getting sick, and Vadim seriously began thinking of returning to his hometown to support them. They said their goodbyes at home because he was taking the earliest commuter train to Moscow, and from there he would fly to Murmansk.
There were few people on the train at that hour. Vadim settled comfortably by the window and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep. Soon the train started. He heard someone sit down on the seat opposite. Feeling someone’s intent gaze, he opened his eyes. How great was his surprise when he saw Lera in front of him. Sleep vanished in an instant.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in astonishment.
“I’m seeing you off. I know you don’t take me seriously, but I have to say… I love you,” she said, straight out, throwing Vadim into confusion.
“I love you too. I loved you the moment I saw you—as my daughter, my friends’ daughter,” he answered evenly. “Your parents don’t know where you are; otherwise they’d have blown up my phone by now. I don’t have time to take you home, I’ll miss my plane. You’ll get off at the next stop and go back,” he said sternly.
“I knew that’s exactly how you’d answer,” the girl said, not the least bit upset by his dressing-down. Vadim saw before him no longer a child but a quite young woman, skillfully manipulating a man’s feelings. She didn’t cry, but she spoke of her love so movingly and sincerely that he couldn’t answer with the banal phrases people use in such cases.
“I’ve known your parents a long time. I was in love with your mom. I think you know that story. I’m thirty-seven. What would happen if I returned your feelings? I’ll tell you. When you’re as old as I am now, you’ll be a beautiful young woman. You’ll hate me because the man next to you will be an old man. People will pity you, sympathize with you, men will fall in love with you. Yes, yes—don’t interrupt. And one day you’ll take a young lover…”
“You see awfully far.” Lera switched to the familiar “you.” “And what if I don’t live to see the moment you become an old man? Life is so unpredictable. Either way, I’ll break your heart. So why not spend that time together and be happy until that happens?”
Yes, the little devil had prepared well. Vadim didn’t immediately find an answer.
“We can just talk for now, call and write each other. I still need to finish school and get into university. But don’t count on me falling for some silly boy my age and giving you up.”
“And what if I fall in love and get married in the meantime?” Vadim had recovered and joined the game.
“Unlikely. You yourself just said you love me. The stop is coming up and I’ll get off.” She suddenly moved over to him and kissed him on the lips—quite skillfully at that.
The train slowed. Lera stood up and, without looking back, walked toward the door with dignity. Vadim pressed to the window, searching for her with his eyes, but the platform was empty, as if she had evaporated. Or maybe he’d fallen asleep and dreamed her? But the sweet taste of her kiss remained on his lips.
It would have been better if she’d cried, screamed, rather than this. Vadim didn’t know how to take it—as true love or a grand provocation. Did he have the right to ruin a young girl’s life? But then he calmed himself. Time would pass and she herself would understand he was right, would fall for a peer, and everything would fall into place.
She called him when he was standing in the boarding line. She said sweet nonsense. And he suddenly realized that no other woman had ever touched his heart like this.
She called him almost every day, and if she didn’t, he paced about, unable to find a place for himself, missing her voice. She wrote him beautiful emails. He answered carefully, neutrally. Her parents could read them.
Sometimes Lera called on Skype. Getting ready for prom, she spun in front of the screen, asking him to judge her outfit. How young and lovely she was!
Vadim asked her to forget him, reminded her of his age, lied that he had finally met and fallen in love with a woman. For a while Lera went silent, stopped writing and calling. He felt relief—but also longing. And then she called, said she hadn’t believed him, and it all spun up again.
His father fell ill. That sped up Vadim’s move home. He took his father to Moscow, and they operated on his heart. Then Vadim bought an apartment not far from his parents and furnished it. He didn’t tell Misha and Natasha he’d come back. Because of Lera.
Vadim avoided places where he might run into her by chance, but one day they met anyway. And he realized how desperately he’d missed her. They began seeing each other, fairly chastely, though it took Vadim incredible effort to control himself. He extracted a promise from her that he would be the one to talk to her parents.
And now the moment had come. Vadim bought a bottle of good wine, roses for Natasha, and a bouquet of violets for Lera. The girl adored them. The friends’ reunion was warm. Misha had gotten sturdier, put on weight, acquired a belly and thinning hair. Vadim looked youthful, as Natasha remarked.
They reminisced, shared news. Lera sat very quiet, casting tender glances at Vadim. Misha noticed their secret looks and Vadim’s awkwardness.
“Come on, let’s step out for a smoke,” he said.
They went out onto the landing.
“Spill it—what’s going on?”
And Vadim told him everything. He asked forgiveness, said he’d been fighting with all his might against his and Lera’s feelings.
“So what do you want me to do—die? Disappear? Say the word and that’s what I’ll do,” he finished.
“Are you getting back at me because of Natasha? Is Lera pregnant?” Misha pounced.
“What do you take me for? Everything’s on the level. You know I never laid a finger on Natasha, and certainly not on your daughter. I should probably go now.”
In the middle of the night Lera came to him. For the first time he saw her tears. She told him what had gone on at home after he left. Vadim calmed her down, gave her tea, and drove her home. As if he’d known—he hadn’t drunk.
“Come in,” Misha asked. “What am I supposed to do with you two? Lera can make a mess of things. Look at her—ran away from home in the middle of the night. So we agree. Get married. Only on the condition that she finish university.”
“Dad, you’re the best!” Lera threw her arms around her father’s neck.
They had a modest wedding; only relatives as guests. Lera was a beautiful bride. They danced their first dance so movingly that everyone cried. And then came their first night…
Vadim had never been so happy. Only now did he understand that he had loved her his whole life, from the very moment he looked into the lace-trimmed bundle tied with a pink ribbon at the maternity ward.
Then Natasha fell ill. Misha wandered around lost, black with grief. Vadim turned every acquaintance upside down, sold his car, put in all the savings he still had left from the North, and sent Natasha and Misha to Germany for treatment.
The illness retreated. For how long? Time would tell. And then Lera sprang another surprise. No sooner had her parents returned buoyed by hope than she announced she was pregnant. Even for Vadim it was unexpected.
“Mom, we need you. I won’t cope without you,” she said, hugging Natasha.
Vadim understood that this was Lera giving her a reason to live—for the sake of her future grandchild, for Misha, who would be lost without her. Because he knew Lera would manage just fine on her own.
Try as he might, Vadim couldn’t outwit fate. In a strange way, destiny tied him to Misha and Natasha again through Lera’s love. She gave birth to a son. They all came to meet her at the maternity ward. And this time the midwife had no doubt who the father was. Vadim looked so happy that Natasha and Misha had no doubts left—he would carry their daughter in his arms to the very end of his days, just as he had right after she was born.
Love. What do we know about it?
