«Ver! Can you hear me?» Alexey called out even before he crossed the threshold of their home.
«I can hear you,» Vera responded, her gaze fixed on the screen she manipulated with a stylus.
«Igor, along with his wife and daughter, wants to stay with us!» Alexey announced.
Vera was familiar with Igor—her husband’s younger brother, a man of perpetual motion and a passionate photographer. His career had taken him from a newspaper photographer to a sought-after name in the fashion and advertising industries, often found capturing the glamorous at beauty contests and various high-profile events. His camera was an extension of himself, even during personal moments like Alexey’s wedding, where he had darted about, eagerly documenting every moment.
Vera put down her stylus and sat up as Alexey entered the room. She offered him a warm smile.
«So, I say yes,» she declared.
Alexey’s request was a nice touch; their seaside home was a magnet for visitors. «We should finish that guest house soon,» she reminded him.
«Just a few small fixes left,» Alexey replied.
«When?» she pressed.
«If you’re okay with it, in about two weeks,» he suggested.
«Let them come, then.»
«How about a walk?» Alexey ventured, hoping to draw her out of the house.
«Too much work.»
«Maybe just this once…»
Vera’s days were typically spent indoors, either immersed in her illustrations or tending to her garden in the cooler evening air. Her sedentary lifestyle had led to a cycle of dieting and indulgence, a pattern she both chastised herself for and struggled to break.
Outside, the sea hummed its eternal song, the garden was alive with the scent of roses, and their cat lazily observed the world from the windowsill.
Alone again, Vera stood and stretched her back, then approached the scales with a sigh. The needle edged up.
«Again,» she murmured, noting the weight gain with a mix of resignation and resolve.
Her eyes caught the half-eaten bag of pastries in her office. «Maybe just one more,» she thought, reaching out but then hesitating, overcome by a sudden sense of guilt. Instead, she gathered the bag and took it to the kitchen.
Vera’s remote work demanded results—she was a book illustrator. Meanwhile, Alexey had ventured into the advertising business, gradually expanding from basic printing to a full-service agency employing a mix of permanent staff and freelancers.
They had settled in the south after an impulsive purchase of a plot of land during a summer vacation led to building their current home and, eventually, planning a guest house.
Despite marrying before Igor, their daughter Natasha was the same age as his daughter Olya. Igor’s life had taken a turn when Julia became pregnant, leading to a quick marriage.
With summer underway, Vera planned to fetch Natasha from her grandmother’s, preparing her for school and reuniting her with Olya. «I’ll make a quick trip there and back,» she assured Alexey. «Keep our guests entertained and, please…» she paused to secure her monitor with a protective film, «make sure no one uses this room.»
«I’ll lock it up,» Alexey quipped.
With that, Vera departed with a light heart.
«A few days later, Igor arrived with his family,» Alexey declared as they pulled into the driveway.
«Wow!» Yulia exclaimed, impressed. She had heard much about the place from her husband but was seeing it for the first time.
«It’s all Vera’s doing,» Alexey proudly explained, gesturing towards the lush garden.
Indeed, the garden was a bit wild, teeming with fruit trees—pears, hazelnuts, apples, and plums—though the grass grew faster than Alexey could manage, even with a mower.
«Look, Olya, there’s a cherry tree over there,» he pointed out, directing the young girl to a tree atop a small rise.
Olya scampered off without hesitation.
«It’s really beautiful here,» Igor acknowledged, admiring the view as he lugged the suitcases towards the guest house.
«What’s that area over there?» Yulia asked, curious about the surroundings.
For the next hour, Alexey led them around the property, detailing each type of tree. Eventually, they made their way back to the main house, where Alexey noticed the door to Veronica’s room ajar. Inside, Olya had removed the protective film from the screen and was fiddling with the stylus.
«Stop!» Alexey intervened, his tone calm yet firm. «You shouldn’t touch this.»
He retrieved the stylus from her, placing it back on its perch.
«And you shouldn’t be in here either.»
Olya dashed out, and Alexey resecured the screen before firmly closing the door.
«Is your wife still putting on weight?» Yulia asked Alexey with a hint of sarcasm.
Alexey flinched. He was aware that Vera wasn’t slender like Yulia, a former model.
To deflect the topic gracefully, he remarked, «Not everyone can maintain your kind of figure.»
Yulia smirked, satisfied with herself.
«Let’s not discuss this, please,» Alexey quickly added.
Yulia snorted dismissively, «To stay slim, you just need to eat less.»
«I get it,» Alexey nodded. Vera had tried various diets and counted calories, but…
«You just need to eat less,» Yulia reiterated.
Alexey realized she missed his point. «Just… don’t mention this around Vera,» he implored.
Yulia snorted again, shrugged, and as she walked out, she quipped, «Just eat less, don’t be a pig.»
Alexey grimaced at her departing back, baffled by such insensitivity, a trait all too common among some models he’d encountered professionally.
The following day, Vera returned home with Natasha. Alexey welcomed them, enveloped in relief, and hugged his daughter, who seemed to have filled out a bit.
«Grandma,» Vera quickly justified, anticipating any concern.
«It’s fine, she’ll slim down after running around and swimming for a few days,» Alexey reassured.
«How are our guests?» Vera inquired.
«They went to the beach, should be back soon.»
«They weren’t hungry, I hope? Probably just had some pizza?» Vera joked as she entered the kitchen.
«No, Yulia cooked something; they’re fine.»
«Good, I’ll start on lunch,» Vera announced, heading to change before cooking.
An hour later, as the guests returned, lunch was served. Yulia remained silent, but her looks conveyed clear disapproval of both Vera’s and Natasha’s appearances, though she wisely kept her comments to herself.
During the meal, while the children eagerly ate, Yulia suddenly scolded her daughter, «Don’t eat too much, or you’ll end up fat like Natasha.»
Luckily, Vera and Natasha were outside by then, but Alexey heard everything. His face reddened with anger. He was about to confront Yulia, but Natasha burst into the room, diverting his attention.
«Dad, dad, dad!» she excitedly approached. «Can I go up the hill?»
The cottage sat in a valley, with the hill behind it strewn with hazelnuts and wild grapes, a natural wake-up call courtesy of the local birds. Initially a nuisance, Alexey had grown to appreciate their morning serenades.
«Take Olya with you,» he suggested.
Natasha reached out to Olya, «Come, I’ll show you the nest, and there’s a cliff and rocks!»
Olya looked disdainfully at Natasha and retorted sharply, «I don’t make friends with pigs.»
Stung, Alexey took his daughter aside, «Go find your mom in the garden,» he directed gently, the hurt palpable.
Facing Igor, who had remained silent throughout, Alexey expressed his disappointment, «You’ve insulted my daughter by allowing her to be called a pig.»
«I didn’t say that!» Igor protested.
«But you were silent, just like them,» Alexey pointed out, his gaze lingering on each guilty face.
That evening, despite the tension, dinner went on as if nothing had occurred. Igor praised the food, but Yulia’s earlier words echoed in Alexey’s mind. When she casually remarked on not overeating, Alexey couldn’t hold back.
«Go for a walk,» he suggested to Vera.
Alone with Igor and Yulia, Alexey finally laid down the law, «You’ve insulted my family. Tomorrow, you leave.»
«What? Just because I’m right?» Yulia exclaimed in disbelief.
«One more word, and you leave tonight,» Alexey stood firm, his voice steely.
The next morning, as Igor’s family departed, Alexey and Vera planned a day at the beach to escape the unpleasantness. Focused on the promise of a relaxing day, they packed and headed out, leaving the discord behind.
