Snowflakes spun slowly in the light of the streetlamps, resembling dancing performers in pristine white costumes. Maria Andreevna stood frozen by the window of her fourth-floor apartment, immersed in the February darkness. Every time the headlights of passing cars illuminated the courtyard, her heart began to beat faster. Andrey was soon to return from yet another business trip.
Their meeting had taken place ten years ago in the university library: she—a student of the philological faculty, he—a promising economist. It was a beautiful romance that led to an early wedding and the birth of a son. Back then, it seemed that happiness would last forever. But in the past two years, everything had changed.
—Mommy, will Daddy really come home today? —the voice of six-year-old Kostya interrupted her thoughts.
—Yes, sunshine, —Maria replied, trying to smile despite the unsettling feeling in her chest.
—Let’s bake his favorite cabbage pie?
—Hooray! —the little boy exclaimed joyfully. —I’ll help!
The aroma of freshly baked goods filled the kitchen. Maria recalled how Andrey used to always hurry home, drawn by that very scent. «A home should smell of pies,» his mother, Nina Vasilievna, used to say as she taught the young daughter-in-law to cook.
Nina Vasilievna had been living with them for three years following her stroke. This kind-hearted yet stern woman remained the only one who could still influence her son. Although lately even her authority seemed to have lost its weight.
The click of a key turning in the lock made Maria jump. Her husband appeared at the doorway—emaciated, unshaven, with eyes red from fatigue. He carried a barely perceptible scent of someone else’s perfume.
—Dinner ready? —he snapped, ignoring the son who had rushed toward him.
—Daddy! —Kostya cried, trying to hug his father by the legs.
—Leave me alone, I’m tired, —Andrey brusquely pushed him away. —Why are you baking those pies again? Stop transferring money.
Maria said nothing. She had learned to remain silent when her husband was like this. Wordlessly, she set the table and placed the most appetizing piece of pie on her husband’s plate.
An oppressive silence settled over the table, broken only by the clink of cutlery and the soft voice of Nina Vasilievna, recounting tales from her youth to her grandson.
—How did the business trip go? —Maria cautiously inquired once Andrey had finished eating.
—Fine, —he replied curtly. —Enough with the questions.
—I just wanted to…
—Just what? —he snapped, pushing his plate away. —I’m sick of your endless questions! All you do is keep an eye on me!
Kostya clung to his grandmother in fear. Nina Vasilievna shook her head:
—Andryusha, calm down. Masha is just showing interest…
—and you too? —he growled. —All of you are against me!
At that moment, Andrey’s phone rang. He stepped into the corridor, but even through the closed door, a feminine murmur could be heard. «Alyona,» Maria thought. She had long known that name, though she had never met the woman to whom it belonged.
When Andrey returned, his face contorted into a grimace of anger.
—Enough! —he seized his bag. —Take your kid and get out!
—Andrey! —Nina Vasilievna cried out. —Pull yourself together!
—Shut up, mother! I’m fed up! You’re all fed up with me!
He grabbed Maria by the hand and dragged her toward the exit. Kostya, sobbing, ran after them.
—You’ll freeze in the communal apartment! —the husband roared as he shoved his wife and son right into the blizzard.
The last thing Maria saw was Andrey’s angry face and the tears on Nina Vasilievna’s cheeks, as he rudely shoved her away from the door.
Outside, the blizzard raged. Maria held tightly to the shivering Kostya, trying to shield him with her coat. There wasn’t any money for a taxi—Andrey held all the bank cards. Her phone had run out of battery earlier that day.
—Mommy, I’m cold, —Kostya whimpered plaintively.
—Hold on, sunshine, we’ll figure something out.
As if in answer to her quiet prayer, an old Moskvich pulled over nearby, its wing noticeably dented.
—Get in quickly, —a soft proposal came from inside the car, voiced by an elderly gentleman. —In this weather, you can’t stay outside with a child. I’m Mikhail Petrovich; I used to work as a mechanic, now I’m retired.
Maria hesitated for only a second. What could be scarier than freezing with her son?
Mikhail Petrovich indeed turned out to be a true angel. He took them to his modest apartment, where his wife, Anna Grigorievna, immediately began to help: offering steaming hot tea, wrapping them in warm blankets, and finding some old clothes for Kostya.
—Do you have anywhere to go? —Anna Grigorievna asked when Kostya finally fell asleep.
—There’s a room in the communal apartment, left from my mother, —Maria whispered. —But I haven’t been there in a long time…
—Misha will drive you in the morning, —the woman said confidently. —For now, just rest.
The communal apartment on the outskirts of Lipovsk greeted them with the wary glances of neighbors. Five families sharing one kitchen and a single toilet was always a challenge. But there was no other choice.
The room was small, yet neat. The yellowed wallpaper, the creaking sofa, the rickety wardrobe. Kostya immediately climbed onto the windowsill, gazing out at the snowy courtyard.
—Mom, are we going to live here?
—Temporarily, sunshine. Until we find a better option.
Mikhail Petrovich frequently dropped by to help with repairs. Thanks to his expertise, new shelves appeared in the room, and the dripping tap in the communal kitchen was fixed. Over time, the neighbors grew more amicable, especially after Maria began baking her signature pies for everyone.
Mikhail Petrovich had worked all his life at an automobile factory. Even in retirement, he couldn’t stand still—he had assembled his Moskvich from old parts, which the locals had nicknamed «Frankenstein.» Together with his wife Anna Grigorievna, they had spent forty years, raised three children who now lived in different cities. The elderly couple found joy in helping those in need.
—You know, Masha, —Anna Grigorievna would say while tucking Kostya in, —Misha and I have been through a lot too. In the nineties, the factory was idle, there was no work. We thought we wouldn’t survive. But people helped one another, sharing what little they had. Now it’s our turn to pay it forward.
Meanwhile, Andrey was enjoying his freedom with Alyona. He immediately brought her into the house, ignoring his mother’s protests. However, their happiness was short-lived. Alyona soon realized that living with a tyrant was unbearable, and she fled with a young fitness trainer.
In the communal apartment, Maria met Dmitry, a programmer renting the neighboring room. After being laid off from a major company, he was trying to launch his own startup. At the same time, he worked as a tutor. He helped Kostya with mathematics and often kept him company in the evenings, telling amazing stories about computers and robots.
Dmitry had ended up in the communal apartment after a bitter divorce. His project to create educational applications never gained popularity. His wife couldn’t withstand the constant financial difficulties and left him for a wealthier man. Yet Dmitry did not lose faith in humanity and retained his capacity for empathy.
The first time he met Maria—seeing her crying with little Kostya—moved him deeply. Perhaps he saw in them a reflection of himself—a confused and lonely person…
Gradually, life began to improve. Maria found work as a waitress at the café «Siren,» where her talent as a cook was soon recognized. Before long, she became the assistant to the head chef.
The owner of the establishment, Stepan Arkadyevich, began to show interest in her. Elegant courtships, gifts in the form of flowers, and plenty of compliments. He seemed to be the complete opposite of Andrey—charming, successful, caring.
Dmitry tried to warn her: —Masha, be careful. There’s something shady about his business. I’m wary of the people who go there in the evenings. —You’re just jealous, —she replied, though inside she felt uneasy.
Trouble crept in subtly. Stepan suggested taking out a loan to develop the business, promising enormous profits. And within a week, he disappeared, leaving Maria with a substantial debt and shattered hopes.
At that moment, Andrey’s neighbor called: Nina Vasilievna had fallen ill. She didn’t survive her second stroke. Just before her death, she changed her will, leaving the apartment and her savings to her grandson and ex-daughter-in-law.
Andrey rushed over as soon as he heard about the inheritance: —This is mine! You set it all up! —Get out, —Maria replied decisively. —I’m not afraid of you anymore.
Stepan was detained in Thailand. His scam with fraudulent loans was uncovered, and the money was recovered. At an auction, Maria acquired the café «Siren» and, with Dmitry’s help, transformed it into a cozy place with an original kitchen and a children’s room.
Mikhail Petrovich took on the role of chief mechanic—the value of his versatile skills, from repairing the coffee machine to maintaining the ventilation, proved indispensable. Anna Grigorievna sometimes dropped by to help with the baking, and her signature gingerbread became the café’s calling card.
Dmitry was always by her side. He helped with the paperwork, spent time with Kostya, and provided support during the tough moments. One evening, while they were working on reports late into the night, he simply took her hand. And Maria realized—that this was true happiness.
A year later, their daughter Nadya was born. Kostya proudly bore the title of the older brother and actively helped his mother with the baby. And Dmitry became the father figure the boy had always dreamed of.
Sometimes Andrey passed by «Siren.» He would see through the window a joyful Maria, a grown-up Kostya helping Dmitry with new equipment. Once, he even came in for a coffee, but upon meeting his ex-wife’s gaze, he silently left.
In little Lipovsk, it is still said that there is no cozier place than the café «Siren.» If you listen closely to the conversations of its visitors, you might hear the amazing story of how a winter blizzard changed one family’s fate, gifting them with true happiness.
Every year, with the first snowflakes, Maria stands by the window of her café and recalls that terrible night. Now she knows—sometimes you have to lose everything to find true love and happiness. And the blizzard… it only clears the way for a new life.
