Mom! Where are you?» the voice of her daughter, like the chirping of a bird, scattered throughout the yard.
Valentina straightened her back with effort, leaning on the ancient wooden handle of the shovel. How old was this tool? It seems Sergey himself made it, always repeating, «With a reliable tool, any job is easier.»
«I’m in the garden!» she responded, slowly heading towards the gate, carefully holding her lower back.
At the gate stood Irina — elegant in a light coat, on high heels. Beside her jumped Sashka, energetically waving some toy. Her son, Valentina’s grandson, remarkably resembled his father as a child — just as active, restless.
«Oh, and Sashenka came too!» Valentina opened her arms, but immediately grimaced from back pain.
«What’s wrong, mom?» Irina looked anxiously into her mother’s face.
«Oh, nothing special, daughter. My back just aches after work. I’ll walk it off—it will pass. And Andrei, is he busy again?»
«As always,» Irina slightly pursed her lips. «Stuck at work for days on end. Let’s go inside, I brought you some groceries.»
Valentina carefully ascended the porch, clinging to the railing. Each step echoed with pain, but she tried not to show it. Lately, her daughter had been watching her too closely, as if looking for some problems.
Inside, at the kitchen threshold, stood two huge bags. Valentina looked inside:
«Why so much? I can’t eat all this alone. Maybe you’ll stay with me?»
«Mom! I found my food gun! And a chamfering tool!» Sashka suddenly burst out from behind the stove, pretending to shoot.
«Stop bothering,» Irina brushed him off. «I’d like to stay, but I can’t. We’ll leave tomorrow.»
Something in her daughter’s tone made Valentina wary. After thirty-five years of motherhood, she had learned to sense when something was wrong with her children. Now her intuition suggested — this was not just a visit.
But she did not ask further. Open relations between them had ceased ever since her daughter started her own family. And Irina had a complicated character — if she planned something, she would beat around the bush until she decided to share.
«It’s warm here,» Irina leaned against the stove. «Very cozily heated.»
«The nights have become cold and damp. I’m afraid of catching a cold on my back.»
The day passed with usual chores. Sashka, having played outside, fell asleep early. And Irina couldn’t start the conversation, though Valentina noticed — she clearly had something to say.
In the evening, as they sat on the porch admiring the sunset, Irina finally decided:
«Mom, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time. Natalya and I are worried. You’re alone in such a big house…»
Valentina looked attentively at her daughter. In the twilight, her face seemed pale and tense.
«And what are you planning?» she asked softly.
«You see…» Irina stood up, slowly walked across the porch. «My sister and I decided to open a medical center. Modern, large-scale. We already have investors, a suitable building selected. But we need initial capital…»
Valentina felt her heart squeeze. Now everything became clear.
«And what does my house have to do with it?» her voice became firmer and stricter.
«Mom, don’t rush to reject the idea!» Irina sat down next to her, gently taking her hand. «Hear me out. Andrei and I bought a new apartment — four rooms. One of them will be entirely yours. The area is excellent, near a park, a clinic… And this house can be sold. The money will go into our business, and you’ll become a co-founder. Can you imagine the potential profit?»
Valentina was silent, looking at the darkening garden. There, by the old apple tree, she and Sergey once planned their future. Brick by brick, they built a house, planted trees… Every corner was filled with memories.
«Think about it, mom, don’t rush to answer,» Irina stood up. «Tomorrow I’ll bring Natalya, she also wants to talk to you.»
Valentina could not sleep that night. She wandered through the house, touching familiar walls, sinking into memories. Here Irina took her first steps, and there Natalya liked to hide when she was upset. In that corner stood Polina’s crib when they brought the granddaughter for the summer…
Closer to two in the morning, she sat down on the old sofa in the living room — the place where she and Sergey always spent their evenings, discussed the day, and dreamed of the future. Now his half remained empty.
«Seryozha,» she softly called out in the darkness, «what should I do? Remember how we started building this house? You always joked — why such a big one, we two wouldn’t fill it…»
Her hand slid over the worn upholstery:
«And then Irinka was born. Remember how you carried her in your arms, singing lullabies with your deep voice? And three years later, Natasha appeared… What a happy time!»
Outside, the night wind rustled the branches of that very apple tree they had planted when they moved here.
«Our girls have grown up. Maybe they’re right? You always said: help your children while you can. And I’ve become stubborn, fixated. Give me some sign, some advice on what to do…»
She fell silent, listening to the night sounds of the house. The old floorboards creaked, as if pondering along with her.
Unnoticed, she dozed off right on the sofa. A bright ray of sunlight woke her in the morning. Opening her eyes, she froze — a gust of wind had flung open an old wedding photo on the wall.
Sergey looked out from it with his special, slightly mocking glance. On the back of the frame, where the glass had cracked, the sunlight illuminated an inscription made by his hand many years ago: «The main thing is to have your soul in place. And it is there, where you are.»
Valentina pressed her palm to her chest. There it was, the sign. The house could be sold, everything could start anew. But the main thing was to preserve herself, her soul. Like then, in their youth, when she and Sergey believed only in each other and in their strength.
She stood up, straightened her shoulders. Now the decision was obvious. But she would not allow herself to become a silent shadow in someone else’s home. Sergey would have understood her. He always did.
By morning, everything was decided. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the only right way.
The children had grown up, they needed help. And the house… The house was just walls. The main thing was to preserve the family.
Natalya arrived by noon. The younger daughter seemed tired, sunken. It was evident that she was worried.
«Mommy, I’m sorry that it all happened so suddenly,» she began, embracing her mother. «But this is a unique chance for all of us! We’ve long wanted to open our own clinic…»
«I agree,» simply replied Valentina.
Both daughters froze, not believing their own ears.
«Really?» Irina beamed. «Mom, you won’t regret it! We’ll organize everything, you’ll live in luxury!»
The move was scheduled for a month later. Valentina methodically packed things, wrapped up photos, sorted through years of accumulated trinkets. Some she gave away to neighbors, some she threw away. Each day made the house more empty, more foreign.
Irina’s new apartment turned out to be spacious and bright indeed. A separate room was prepared for Valentina with expensive furniture. Everything new, modern, comfortable.
At first, it seemed that everything would work out well. Valentina helped around the house, walked with Sashka, sometimes looked after Polina when she came from her art school. But soon cracks began to show.
First, there were small misunderstandings. Irina frowned if Valentina, out of old habit, got up at five in the morning and clattered dishes in the kitchen. Andrei scowled if she forgot to turn off the light in the hallway.
Even Sashka, who joyfully greeted his grandmother at first, now increasingly locked himself in his room with a tablet.
«Mom, why did you start a general cleaning again? We have cleaning services on Thursdays,» Irina irritably adjusted the flowers that Valentina had just arranged. «And these vases… they don’t match the interior.»
Valentina remained silent.
These vases belonged to her—the only thing she took from the old house besides personal belongings. Old, with peeling paint, but so dear. And Irina preferred glass ones, «in the Scandinavian style.»
Business at the medical center progressed slower than anticipated. Irina often came home tired, easily lost her temper. Natalya called less and less—too busy, on duty. When Valentina tried to inquire about affairs, her daughters evaded answers or changed the subject.
And then «receptions» began.
Irina and Andrei regularly hosted business evenings, inviting business partners. On such days, they asked Valentina to stay in her room to not embarrass the guests.
«You see, mom, these are important people,» Irina explained. «We need to show a certain level. And you… well, you know yourself. You have your habits, your style of communication.»
One evening, Valentina accidentally overheard a conversation. She was heading to the kitchen for water when voices from the living room reached her.
«…and what am I to do?» Irina’s voice was louder than usual. «She ruins everything! Imagine, yesterday in front of Roman Sergeevich, she started talking about her garden! And he’s an investor, by the way!»
«And what about Natalya?» asked someone’s female voice.
«Natalya?» Irina bitterly chuckled. «My little sister is busy with her problems. Her husband is against mom moving in with them. And I’m supposed to pull everything on my own?»
Valentina froze by the wall, feeling her hands treacherously tremble. The glass accidentally hit the umbrella stand, and silence instantly reigned in the living room.
«Mom? What are you doing here?» Irina came out into the hallway, her face flushed.
«I came to get some water,» Valentina replied quietly.
«I asked you not to leave your room when I have guests!»
That night, Valentina couldn’t sleep. She lay staring at the ceiling, thinking: how did it happen that her girls, her little ones, became so alien? She remembered how little Irina ran to her with scraped knees, and Natalya cried, burying her face in her shoulder when she didn’t get into the institute the first time.
The next morning, Natalya called.
«Mom, how are you?» her voice sounded guilty. «Ira told me that you talked yesterday.»
«Everything’s fine, daughter,» Valentina tried to speak calmly. «How are you? It’s been a long time since you visited.»
«Mom…» Natalya paused. «Maybe you’ll stay with us for a bit? Take a break from Irka’s business meetings.»
Valentina closed her eyes. There it was, what she had feared from the beginning.
Natalya’s apartment was in an old five-story building on the outskirts of the city. Two rooms, a tiny kitchen. Viktor, Natalya’s husband, greeted her coolly—muttered «hello» and went into the bedroom.
«Don’t mind him,» Natalya whispered. «He’s just tired. Make yourself comfortable in the living room, I’ll set up the sofa for you.»
But Valentina saw that her daughter was clearly not happy with the situation. Natalya constantly apologized—either for the cramped space or for the neighbors who were noisy. Viktor demonstratively ate in the room, not approaching the common table. In the evenings, his dissatisfied muttering: «When will this end?» echoed off the walls, making the space even more cramped.
After a week, Valentina realized: a decision had to be made. She couldn’t be a burden to her own children. She packed her few belongings in an old bag and went for a walk to think.
Her legs led her to the city park. She sat on a bench, watching mothers with strollers. A nearby elderly couple—an old man with a cane and a woman in a bright scarf—settled next to her.
«Excuse me, may I sit down?» asked the woman. «My legs are just not listening to me.»
«Of course,» replied Valentina. «It’s hot today.»
«Yes, indeed,» the woman pulled out a bottle of water. «Would you like a drink? You look a bit pale.»
A conversation ensued. Galina Mikhailovna and Nikolai Petrovich turned out to be surprisingly pleasant companions. They mentioned that they owned a small house on the outskirts—they used to live there themselves, now they rent it out.
«The last tenants moved out a month ago,» Galina Mikhailovna sighed. «A pity, they were good people. We don’t rent it out for money—just so the house isn’t empty. Now we live in an apartment ourselves, moved closer to the children.»
Valentina listened and felt warmth in her chest. Maybe… maybe this was a sign?
«And you… you’ve found new tenants already?» she asked, surprising herself with her decisiveness.
Galina Mikhailovna looked attentively at the new acquaintance:
«Are you interested?» she turned to her husband. «Kolya, what do you think?»
Nikolai Petrovich gave her a thoughtful look:
«The house is small but sturdy. Two rooms, a kitchen, a veranda. There’s a garden, though it’s overgrown…»
«A garden?» Valentina’s voice trembled.
«Yes, old apple trees, currants…» Galina Mikhailovna suddenly fell silent. «Wait, are you… you’re Valya? Valentina Petrovna?»
Valentina looked up in surprise:
«Yes, but how do you…»
«My God!» exclaimed Galina Mikhailovna. «Kolya, it’s Sergey Nikolaev’s wife! The one who worked in engineering at the factory? We used to go to demonstrations together!»
Nikolai Petrovich squinted:
«That’s right… And your daughters—Irina and Natalya? Irka always played with my calculator when we gathered.»
The world suddenly seemed incredibly small and warm. They talked until evening. Remembered mutual friends, factory holidays, youth… Valentina learned that Galina Mikhailovna’s and Nikolai Petrovich’s children had long moved to another city, calling them to join, but the old couple didn’t want to leave their native places.
«You know what,» Galina Mikhailovna spoke decisively as the sun began to set. «Let’s go, take a look at the house. It’s nearby, we’ll get there by bus.»
The house turned out to be small but exceptionally cozy. Whitewashed walls, blue trim, a sturdy porch. And most importantly—the garden. Large, overgrown, but alive and breathing life. Valentina slowly walked among the apple trees, gently touching the rough trunks, tears silently rolling down her cheeks.
«Doesn’t it fit?» Galina Mikhailovna was concerned.
«What are you…» Valentina shook her head. «On the contrary. It just reminds me so much of my old house…»
That same evening she called Natalya:
«Daughter, don’t worry. I’ve found a place where I’ll live.»
«What do you mean?» anxiety sounded in her daughter’s voice. «Mom, what are you planning?»
«I met some good people. They rent a house, there’s a garden. The cost fits my pension.»
«What house? Who are these people?» Natalya raised her voice. «Mom, you can’t live alone!»
«Why not?» Valentina replied calmly. «I’ve lived in my own house all my life and somehow managed.»
«But… but…» Natalya stumbled. «Wait, I’ll call Ira, let her explain to you.»
Irina rushed over within an hour. Burst into Natalya’s apartment, not even greeting Viktor:
«Mom, stop this immediately! What house are you talking about? We didn’t start all this for you to wander around strange corners!»
«And for what then, daughter?» Valentina looked her in the eyes. «So that I’d sit locked up and not embarrass you in front of important guests?»
Irina recoiled:
«You… you know?»
«Yes, I know,» Valentina nodded. «And about your conversations regarding where to ‘place’ me, I’m also informed.»
«Mom…» Natalya stepped forward. «We did everything for your good…»
«I understand, girls. Really, I understand,» Valentina smiled sadly. «But you’re different now. You have your own life with your own rules. And I… I can’t change anymore. And I don’t want to.»
She took out a worn envelope from her bag:
«Here, take it. These are the documents for the old house. Sell it, build your center. My pension will be enough.»
«Mom, please…» Irina began.
«No, daughter. I’ve made a decision.»
A week later, Valentina moved into the house of Galina Mikhailovna and Nikolai Petrovich. They helped her settle in, brought old furniture from the attic, even provided a TV— «it was just sitting idle anyway.»
And the garden… the garden came to life. Day after day, Valentina cleared the overgrowth, tied branches, weeded grass. Her hands remembered this work, her body rejoiced in familiar movements. In the evenings, the owners often dropped by—just to sit on the porch, talk about life.
The daughters appeared two months later. They came together, silent, guilty. Irina started immediately:
«Mom, we have problems. The bank denied the loan, investors backed out…»
«And now?» asked Valentina, pouring tea into old cups.
«The money from the house… it…,» Natalya lowered her gaze. «In short, it didn’t work out. Forgive us, mommy.»
Valentina looked closely at her daughters. Irina, always so confident, now seemed small and lost. Natalya nervously crumpled a napkin, like in childhood, when she got bad grades.
«Well,» Valentina finally said. «Then it was meant to happen.»
«You… you’re not angry?» Irina asked in surprise.
«Of course, I’m angry,» Valentina sighed. «But you’re my daughters. Where can I go from you?»
«Mom,» Natalya raised her tearful eyes. «Maybe you’ll come back? We’ll figure something out…»
«No, girls,» Valentina replied firmly. «I’m fine here. I’ll take care of the garden, there will be apples—come visit with the grandchildren.»
They sat on the veranda for a long time. Talked—for the first time in a long time openly and honestly. And in the garden, the leaves of the apple trees rustled, promising a rich harvest, and from somewhere came the bitter smoke—Nikolai Petrovich was heating the sauna next door.
When she saw off her daughters in the evening, Valentina went out to the garden. Sat on an old bench, closed her eyes. And suddenly felt—she was home. Not in the house that was sold, not in Irina’s apartment, not at Natalya’s. But here, among the apple trees and currant bushes, next to these amazing people, formally strangers, but who had become almost family in spirit.
Somewhere above, an apple fell, thudding against the ground.
Valentina picked it up, wiped it on her skirt. Firm, ripe. There would be something to treat the grandchildren when they visit.
And they would definitely visit…
