Very bright, beautiful, I would say, quite unusual,» Vadim thoughtfully said, carefully examining his wife’s drawings. «Do you like it?» Natasha asked with a smile, sitting down next to him on the sofa.
«Unusual,» the man admitted, flipping through the sheets with illustrations.
«Children love everything bright; it’s the adults who later prefer something gray, inconspicuous.»
«No, it’s not about practicality here, it’s about character. Children are bright, they’re curious about everything, interested in everything, but adults are not, so they become inconspicuous, they blend in, that is, they camouflage themselves, so they aren’t scolded, so they aren’t noticed.»
«Maybe you’re right,» Vadim agreed with her. «But why do you draw specifically children’s pictures?»
«I don’t know, I like them. I’ve loved looking at books since I was a child, see them there?»—she pointed to two large shelves filled with old children’s books.—»I’ve read them ten, maybe even a hundred times, it’s a whole world, through pictures children come to know it.»
«And you help them?»—hugging his wife, Vadim asked, half questioning, half affirmatively.
«I help them see a new world.»
«Well done,» he said and kissed his wife.
Outside the window, the spring wind swayed the branches of a blooming apple tree, and the sun rays, breaking through the lace curtains, created whimsical patterns on the walls of the room, complementing Natasha’s vibrant illustrations with their special light.
The next day, Vadim visited his mother at her home. She was retired but still continued to work at least half a day.
«How’s your little painter doing?»—that’s how his mother always referred to Natasha.
«Painting,» Vadim replied with a smile.
«Painting,» said Lyubov Stepanovna.
She knew very well that Natasha was an artist, and possibly even a good artist, but instead of painting portraits, those that are in demand and cost good money, she paints, or rather doodles, various bunnies, rabbits, hedgehogs, dragons.
«She should grow up,» the woman said, shaking her head.
«She likes it,» her son replied.
«The word ‘like’ won’t fill you up. You need to earn money, and she’s been sitting at home for a year now.»
«Well,» Vadim dragged out, not knowing what to answer his mother.
They got married a year ago, and Natasha immediately said that she would pursue her art, and Vadim did not object, but he thought, as did his mother, that being an artist meant painting portraits, landscapes. But something that specifically brings in money, and Natasha seemed to paint just for the sake of it.
«Alright, I understand, you can’t deal with your girl yourself.»
«Mom,» and Vadim looked at her disapprovingly.
«I’ll have to help then,» she said, making a business-like face, and started tapping her fingers on the table.
In the evening, after a hearty dinner prepared by Natasha, Vadim joined her and, caressing her hand, said:
«Mom will come stay with us for a week.»
«Why?» his wife asked immediately.
Natasha loved her home, she had wallpapered and painted the ceiling herself—it was no longer white, but like the sky with clouds. Her house was filled with favorite flowers, a grandmother’s rug, an armchair, a dresser that her great-grandmother had probably used. She had sanded it down, stained it, and then varnished it. She loved having guests, but she didn’t really like having someone stay over at her house, especially Lyubov Stepanovna, with whom she had had friction from the start.
«You see,» Vadim began, «Aunt Sveta has a problem with her husband. You remember her?»
«Of course, she was at our wedding. What happened?»
«Well, I don’t know, they probably argued, and now Aunt Sveta and her daughter Yana came to stay with my mother.»
«And-and-and?» the girl stretched out.
«So, mom will move in with us for a week.»
Natasha didn’t like this. But on the other hand, Lyubov Stepanovna was still her husband’s mother, maybe they could find some compromise on how to run her house.
«Well, okay,» Natasha said reluctantly. «For a week, right?»
«Just for a week. Then Aunt Sveta will probably have sorted out her family issues.»
«Alright,» and she nodded her head.
While Natasha was washing the dishes, Vadim began to move his wife’s things from the room-pavilion, where she painted, to the bedroom.
«Where will I paint?» she asked her husband, distressed.
«Well, mom won’t be sleeping in the living room, that would be improper.»
«Yes,» Natasha agreed and, entering the pavilion, began to gather her paints.
If the apartment was a universe, then the pavilion was a separate world. Here she had glued children’s wallpapers with giraffes, tigers, and monkeys climbing vines. And also flowers, there were many of them.
«They need to be removed,» Vadim entered the room and, taking the first pot, dragged it to the living room. Natasha sighed deeply and also took a pot, carrying it to the bedroom.
The next day, closer to the evening, Lyubov Stepanovna arrived with two large trunks of things.
«Wow!» Natasha exclaimed upon seeing them.
Vadim greeted his mother, took one trunk, and carried it to the room.
The mother-in-law coldly greeted her daughter-in-law, then followed her son into the room where she was to live.
«Oh dear!» she exclaimed, examining the wallpaper. «What a horror!»
«You don’t like it?» Natasha entered the room.
«What bad taste,» the woman said, examining the children’s wallpaper. «Remove the flowers,» she ordered her son, «I’m allergic to them.»
Natasha shrugged and instead of her husband began to remove the remaining flowers.
«And the curtains! Oh dear!» the mother-in-law complained for another fifteen minutes, then closed the door behind her and likely began unpacking her things.
By lunch the next day, Lyubov Stepanovna came home from work, changed into a home robe, went out, and without asking Natasha’s permission, opened the door to her room.
«And what are you up to?» she asked coldly.
«Painting,» Natasha replied as calmly as possible.
«You’re an artist, you should be painting.»
«And I am painting,» and Natasha dipped her brush in water.
«Is this painting? Just a hobby, playing around. There are art galleries, there the paintings really cost something.»
«To each their own,» the girl replied, not engaging in debate.
«This doesn’t bring in money, you need to find a real job. You’re a wife, you’ll have kids soon, a house needs to be maintained.»
«That’s what a husband is for,» Natasha replied just as calmly.
«You need to help him! You’ve been sitting at home for a year.»
«I work,» she replied and, taking out a sheet with a drawing, showed it to her mother-in-law. «How do you like it?»
The woman just glanced at the drawing and immediately grimaced:
«Scribbles!»
«That’s exactly what most museum visitors say when they look at paintings. For them, it’s scribbles, but for others, it’s a canvas.»
The mother-in-law didn’t know much about painting, but what her daughter-in-law showed her certainly didn’t seem like any masterpiece. Yes, beautiful rabbits, some knights, but it’s child’s scribbles, not something serious.
«Children explore the world with their eyes, also hands and smells. It’s important for them that the world is colorful.»
«Grow up already,» Lyubov Stepanovna muttered. She didn’t continue the conversation with her daughter-in-law, left the room, and quickly headed to the kitchen.
In the evening, when Vadim arrived, the mother-in-law put on her record:
«Your wife didn’t want to cook dinner.»
«Don’t lie!» Natasha immediately objected.
«I had to go to the kitchen and cook everything.»
«And I didn’t ask you to,» added the girl. «You started cooking at two in the afternoon, why? I usually cook at five o’clock and manage everything just fine.»
«Lazy,» Lyubov Stepanovna muttered.
«Natasha,» Vadim addressed her, «maybe it’s really time for you to find a job?»
«I have one,» the girl replied immediately.
«You know this isn’t a job, it’s just a hobby. I thought you’d paint for a month or two, but it’s been a year now…»
«It’s a job,» the girl said again, «my job. Look, you’ve been working at the factory for the second year. I’m not complaining.»
«Because it brings in money!» Lyubov Stepanovna defended her son.
«I earn too,» added Natasha.
«Pennies,» the mother-in-law said with disdain.
The girl stood up and looked at her husband with offense, then left the kitchen.
In the evenings, Natasha loved to read, but now she didn’t want to, so she took up her easel again, attached a new sheet of paper, poured a clean glass of water, and sat down to paint.
«I want to sleep,» Vadim muttered as he undressed and approached the bed. «Turn off the light.»
«Okay,» she said and, putting the brushes aside, turned off the light. A minute later, the girl undressed and lay down next to her husband.
The next day closer to noon, Leonid, whom she had once met at an exhibition, visited Natasha. He was also fond of watercolor and loved to paint children’s drawings, but he wasn’t very good at it, so he took lessons from Natasha.
As usual, closer to two o’clock, Lyubov Stepanovna returned from work. Seeing a strange man in the house, she immediately asked:
«And what is he doing here?»
«Lyubov Stepanovna,» Natasha approached her and said, «this is my guest, and please don’t insult me or my friends.»
In response, the woman snorted:
«Her husband is at work, and she’s here bringing men home!»
Leonid felt uncomfortable staying in this house, he apologized to Natasha and, dressing quickly, left.
As soon as the doors closed, Natasha turned sharply to her mother-in-law and loudly said:
«Don’t you dare insult my friends anymore! Your stupid suspicions won’t lead to anything good!»
«And you still dare to scold me here! You’d better get busy, instead of sitting on my son’s neck!»
«I work!» the girl replied, almost crying.
«This isn’t work! You’re a nobody and you’re hiding behind this!» and she pointed at the sketch Natasha hadn’t finished.
«My drawings are needed by publishers, and right now I’m working on an order!»
In response, the mother-in-law laughed:
«Misery!» she said and looked at her daughter-in-law with disdain.
In the evening, when Vadim arrived, the mother-in-law declared:
«I quit my job to help you,» she meant Vadim, «around the house.»
«And what’s there to help with?» hearing this shocking news, Natasha asked.
«To maintain order,» the woman declared.
«Order?» the girl asked and looked around. «What, is it dirty here? What other order?»
«Alright,» Vadim approached her, «don’t get worked up, mom wants what’s best.»
«What order?» Natasha asked again. «I vacuum every week, I mop the floors, I dust, I water the flowers! What other order?!» she raised her voice.
«Calm down, mom wants what’s best, let her help.»
Natasha got angry, she turned sharply and went to her room.
In the morning, as soon as Vadim left for work, Lyubov Stepanovna turned on the TV and sat in front of it.
«Please, turn it down,» Natasha asked her.
The mother-in-law, of course, turned it down, but it didn’t help. The girl was constantly distracted by the voices coming from the TV screen. She was annoyed by everything they said: who slept with whom, who bombed whom, who deceived whom, and so on.
«Please, turn it off!» the girl came into the living room and, taking the remote, demonstratively pressed the button, and the screen went dark.
«What are you doing?» the mother-in-law was outraged.
«I can’t work when that’s on,» and she pointed at the screen.
«I can’t sit at home in silence!»
«Get a job,» the girl said quietly. «Or better yet, go for a walk.»
«That’s what you need, to go for a walk, you sit at home all day!»
Natasha didn’t listen to her mother-in-law. She, apparently, got worked up and was now going to grumble for at least half an hour. The girl went into the room, closed the door, but even here she could hear her grumbling.
The girl picked up a brush, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t draw anything.
In the evening after dinner, Vadim declared that he wanted to sleep. Natasha gathered her art supplies, moved them to the kitchen, and turned off the light in the bedroom.
Maybe the mother-in-law was doing this on purpose, or maybe she had insomnia, but she kept going to the kitchen, pouring water, and leaving.
Natasha worked almost all night. She liked the silence, the peace. During this time, her thoughts began to work, and her hand, as if someone was guiding it, began to draw. By morning, the girl had finished two drawings. Pleased with her work, she put them on the shelf and, when her husband left for work, went to bed.
In the evening, as usual, Lyubov Stepanovna began complaining to her son:
«She slept all day,» the woman meant her daughter-in-law.
«Slept because I can’t work during the day. You watch TV all day, and at night I draw,» Natasha calmly replied.
«Oh, see, she draws!» the mother-in-law was outraged.
«Natasha, mom wants what’s best…»
«What’s best?» the girl raised her voice. «What’s best? The house is in order! I clean everything, and I also cook! What’s best?» she asked her husband again.
«You need to get a job.»
«I work!» Natasha almost shouted.
«I demand that you get a job next week!» Vadim spoke harshly and very loudly.
The girl looked at her husband, then at the satisfied expression of her mother-in-law. It was useless to prove anything to them. She got up from the table and, without saying a word, went to her room.
The next day, Natasha decided to visit Aunt Sveta. She remembered her from the wedding—a good woman, kind. So, taking her phone, she called her:
«Aunt Sveta, can I come visit you today?»
«Of course,» the woman replied, surprised by such a proposal. «But I’m in the village.»
«In the village?» the girl was surprised. «And Yana?»
«She’s with me, she goes to school.»
Natasha began asking questions, and it turned out that Aunt Sveta hadn’t argued with her husband at all, as she had lived, so she lives in the village, which means that Lyubov Stepanovna and her husband Vadim lied about everything.
The girl got angry. She didn’t ask Lyubov Stepanovna about her sister during the day, only when Vadim came home from work did she ask her mother-in-law:
«And how is Aunt Sveta? Has she made up with her husband?»
«Not yet,» Lyubov Stepanovna replied to her.
«You’re lying!» Natasha declared and looked her mother-in-law in the eye, her face also reddening with anger. «Aunt Sveta lives in the village, just like her daughter, and they didn’t argue!»
«Mom wants what’s best,» Vadim immediately spoke up.
«Ah, what’s best!» Natasha was outraged. «All I hear is how bad a wife, housekeeper, worker, woman I am! I’m always bad!»
«You’re a nobody,» Lyubov Stepanovna said quietly.
«And you understand painting?» Natasha was curious.
«You bring men into the house when your husband isn’t here!»
Vadim sharply turned his head and looked at his wife.
«These are my friends,» the girl calmly replied. «And don’t look at me like they’re lovers. They’re my friends, what, can’t I have them?»
«So they come when I’m not here?» Vadim began to get angry.
Natasha understood only one thing, that Lyubov Stepanovna had come to their house specifically: either to quarrel her with her husband or to force her to get a job.
«What I paint—this shouldn’t concern you,» the girl said this for her mother-in-law.
«It’s all scribbles!» Lyubov Stepanovna immediately said.
The woman got up, looked at her daughter-in-law with disdain, then patted her son on the shoulder, as if sympathizing that he had such a wife, and headed to her room.
When it became quiet in the kitchen, Natasha turned to her husband:
«I ask you to talk to your mother, to have her move out, otherwise you and I will definitely argue.»
«She’s not going anywhere,» Vadim said harshly. «And you need to think about getting a job.»
A couple of hours later, Natasha sat in the kitchen with her easel. It was hard to draw, tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the drawing.
The mother-in-law, sensing this, came into the kitchen and declared:
«Stop whining!»
«Get out,» the girl said quietly.
«What did you say?»
«I said: get out!» Natasha shouted so loudly that her ears rang.
Almost a second later, Vadim rushed into the kitchen.
«Apologize to my mother!» he demanded of his wife.
«You’re a mommy’s boy,» Natasha said maliciously. «Just because you work in a factory now doesn’t mean everyone should work in such a factory!»
The mother-in-law turned around and slowly walked to her room.
«You’re going to get a job tomorrow!» Vadim demanded of his wife.
«But you used to like how I draw.»
«I thought it was a temporary hobby for you, but I didn’t think you’d sit in your childhood for years.»
«This isn’t childhood, it’s work!»
«I’m tired of pulling the house, you’re going to get a job tomorrow!»
«You’re tired of pulling the house?» Natasha asked him. «You probably forgot—this is my apartment, we don’t pay rent. And that’s a big difference! I pay the utilities and buy all the groceries. And you only pay the rent. Who is pulling this house?»
Vadim, probably for the first time, thought about something, muttered, then his face reddened, and, realizing he had nothing more to say, left the kitchen, where he already said in the living room:
«You need to find a normal job, otherwise I can’t live with you.»
Natasha sat in the kitchen for another hour, couldn’t draw, and couldn’t sleep. The next day she went to her friends, didn’t want to be in the house where her mother-in-law was present.
However, returning home, she discovered that her brushes and paints were gone.
«Where?» jumping out of the bedroom, the girl approached Lyubov Stepanovna. «Where are my paints?»
The woman smirked:
«In the trash.»
Without saying a word, Natasha quickly dressed and ran down the stairs. Approaching the trash can, she began to dig, then approached another can and continued to sift through the bags of trash. A woman approached her and asked what she had lost. Natasha said that her mother-in-law threw out her paints. The woman approached another trash can and began to help her search for what had been thrown away.
«Here it is, probably,» the woman said and showed her a bag from which jars of paint began to spill out.
«Thank you!» Natasha quickly gathered the brushes and paints. «Thank you again,» she said and went home.
Coming home, Natasha, without saying a word, went into the kitchen, spread out the jars on the table, and began to wipe each one.
«You’re a liar,» Natasha coldly said to her mother-in-law. «You’re a liar, a mean and envious woman.»
The girl didn’t hear her husband come into the house.
«Apologize!» Vadim demanded of his wife.
«Let your mother leave!» Natasha demanded, looking at the woman standing in the doorway.
«My mother is not going anywhere!» Vadim declared to her.
«It seems you’ve forgotten—this is my apartment. I’m the mistress here, and there’s no need to dictate your rules to me!»
«Oh, listen to her!» Lyubov Stepanovna spoke up.
Natasha opened the cabinet, took out trash bags, and headed to the bedroom.
«Your wife is completely out of control,» Lyubov Stepanovna muttered to her son.
For about five minutes they sat in the kitchen, talking about something. Finally, Natasha appeared in the living room, dragging a large bag of things. Putting it in the hallway, she returned to the bedroom and pulled out the next bag.
«What is this?» Vadim asked her.
«Your things,» Natasha briefly replied. «You’re going to your mother’s.»
In response, Vadim laughed.
«This is my apartment, not yours! You’re nobody here, a zero! If you don’t leave with your mother, I’ll call the police!»
Hearing this, Lyubov Stepanovna bustled about, cursing her daughter-in-law. She went into the room and a minute later returned with her own trunk of things.
«She’s incorrigible,» Lyubov Stepanovna muttered to her son.
Realizing that his support group was leaving, Vadim decided to spend the night at his mother’s. He went out onto the landing and had just started to go down when a bag of things flew in his direction, then a second and a third.
«Don’t throw a fit!» Vadim shouted.
«Get out! I don’t want to see you!» Natasha said loudly and closed the door behind him.
Sadness descended on her soul. In the spacious living room of the three-room apartment, furnished with old but sturdy furniture, she sobbed like a little girl, then howled like a village woman. She went into the living room, where heavy velvet curtains let in the dim light of the evening day, and, sinking into a worn armchair, cried.
However, the girl didn’t cry for long. Resolutely, she wiped away her tears, took the usual rag, and began to wipe the massive oak table with it. Within a couple of minutes, she got carried away with housework, started cleaning. An hour later, the house was in perfect order: windows polished to a shine, furniture squeaked clean, carpets vacuumed.
Natasha took out her favorite easel, which had seen better days but held many creative memories, placed it in the middle of the living room, and, turning on the bright light of a table lamp, sat down in front of it. A dreamy smile appeared on the girl’s face. She dipped her brush in water, then ran it over the dry paint. For a moment, she pondered, looking at the clean canvas, then began to draw.
A month later, Natasha published her first book with her illustrations—a colorful collection of children’s fairy tales in hardcover. The book took its place on the shelf in her office, which she had set up in a small room. Now it not only housed her favorite easel but also a comfortable work table with a computer, and the walls were adorned with sketches of future works.
She began to receive regular orders from publishers. Every day, envelopes with business proposals appeared in her mailbox, the phone rang off the hook with calls from editors. Everyone wanted their fairy tales illustrated with her bright, unusual drawings, where reality and fantasy whimsically intertwined, and each character seemed to come alive on the pages of the books.
The apartment gradually turned into a real creative workshop, where fresh watercolors dried on the windowsills, and stacks of books and albums with sketches piled up in the corner. Even the old cat, which Natasha had picked up from the street and dozed on the sofa, seemed to be part of this cozy artistic mess.
