Lena found out about her husband’s departure by accident. She came home early and caught her husband in an unusual activity: for the first time, he was packing his own bag.
Elena entered the room and quietly watched for a few seconds as he struggled to fold a t-shirt and shorts. He was failing miserably, so Lena decided to make his task easier.
“Let me help. Is this how you fold clothes?” she couldn’t help but ask, walking up to him from behind. He jumped in surprise, even though he wasn’t the athletic type.
“Lena?!”
“What?” she quickly stuffed the clothes into the bag that had been pulled out of the wardrobe. He hadn’t even had time to say where he was going. “Are you leaving again? Should I make pancakes for the trip?”
“Well… I wouldn’t mind…”
“Okay, I’ll change from my dress into a robe.”
Lena hummed her favorite song as her husband checked the drawers to see if there was anything valuable he could take with him. The apartment belonged to Lena, and he had already figured out that his claim would be limited to movable property that could fit into his suitcase.
“Will ten pancakes be enough?”
“Yeah…”
“Should I pour some condensed milk over them?”
“Better with sour cream.”
Lena pulled out a jar of 20% fat sour cream from the fridge, and before opening it, she finally asked her husband:
“How far are you going? Won’t the sour cream spoil?”
“I’m going just next door… to the neighboring building.”
At first, Lena didn’t think much of it, but after analyzing it, she set the jar aside.
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah… I’m leaving for another woman. I’m going to file for divorce. Thanks for the pancakes.”
Her husband shuffled around, grabbed the container with the pancakes, and walked toward the door. Lena stood frozen, holding the frying pan in her hands.
When realization hit, she ran out into the street, wearing nothing but her robe, apron, and holding the hot frying pan. Thankfully, her husband had already managed to load his things into a taxi and literally slipped away from under her nose, just as Lena was ready to do anything.
She had to go back home. The frying pan cooled down, and the sour cream started to sour. Perhaps it was the summer heat, or maybe Lena’s mood.
“He left for another woman! And I packed his things…” she cried, calling her friend.
“What do you mean?!”
Lena explained everything, mixing her speech with sobs and hiccups.
“He left! How do I live now?!”
“Like everyone else, Lena. That’s how you’ll live.”
“I won’t be able to do it on my own!”
“You will.”
“No!”
“Then go to your son.”
“I’ll be in the way there.”
“Get a dog.”
“My husband is allergic to fur…”
“Your husband left you! What does it matter what he’s allergic to?!”
“Maybe he’ll come back?” Lena asked hopefully. But her friend gave her a lecture about how after 50, a woman should be self-sufficient and learn to enjoy life not just in her husband’s presence but also on her own.
Despite her friend’s words, they didn’t have the desired effect. Lena couldn’t sit still.
“How could I not notice? He was living with someone else on the side… Maybe he was missing my attention. Why did I go to those tailoring and sewing classes?! I should’ve stayed at home, spent more time with my husband,” she thought, searching for the reasons for his betrayal in herself.
“Mom, stop moping! I saw dad, and he’s not sad at all. He’s walking around like a proud peacock, bought himself a new suit! And you? Look at yourself… no hairstyle, no manicure!” her son even evaluated his mother’s condition, though he had never cared about the state of her nails before. “Here, take this.”
He handed his mother some money. Vova was already working and could financially help her. She had never taken money from her son before, but this time, she decided to accept it.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask…”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, son.”
Lena made an appointment with a hairdresser, bought fabric for a new top, and chose special perfume. She loved changing scents when her life went through changes. The fragrance was fresh, like a sea breeze. Lena liked to dream while generously spraying herself with perfume.
Perhaps that’s why she met Vasily.
“You smell so good…” he said when they were on the bus together. Lena even blushed with embarrassment. She wondered if she had forgotten to use deodorant in the morning, but fortunately, the man added, “Very delicious. What perfume is that?”
“Do you like it?” she exhaled. It wasn’t that she cared about his opinion, but at that moment, the desire to appear well-groomed from the outside was important to her.
“Yes! I work in a perfume store, and I’ve never smelled anything like it.”
“This is a ‘resourceful’ scent. It was made specially for me. Personally, so to speak. There are several types of oils that match my mood right now.”
“Now it’s clear why I’ve never heard of it before.”
“And you… A perfumer?”
“In a way, yes. My name is Vasily. And you?”
“My name is Elena. Oh! I almost missed my stop!” she jumped up and rushed toward the exit. Thankfully, she made it just in time.
She didn’t think about the stranger until they met again on the bus.
“Oh, Lena! Good morning!”
“Good morning to you too…”
“You know, I’ve noticed you for a while now.”
Elena tensed.
“Don’t think anything bad, it’s just not every day you see an interesting woman on the bus.”
“My husband used to drive me to work.”
“And now?”
“We’re divorced.”
“In that case, you’re not just interesting but also free?”
Elena shrugged. Her stop was approaching.
“Give me your number, I’m leaving for another city tomorrow on business, and I don’t want to lose contact.”
Elena looked at Vasily, then at the toes of her shoes, then back at him… and without knowing why, she quickly gave him her number.
Vasily called her a week later. During all that time, Elena wondered, and now he finally called.
“I want to invite you on a date.”
“Go ahead.”
“Come to my place. Here’s the address.”
“But that’s not Moscow…”
“Yes, I live in the suburbs. I moved because of circumstances. My ex-wife decided the apartment should go to her and the son.”
“I see.”
“Is that a problem for you? There are trains, and I’ll pick you up at the station.”
“I need to think about it.”
“Okay. I’m not in a hurry.”
Elena didn’t think long. Once again looking at the empty room and talking to the cactus, she put the address into the navigator and set the route.
Vasily met her as promised. He didn’t bring flowers but paid for the taxi.
“Where are we going?”
“To my place.”
“Just like that?”
“Why waste time and money? I have everything at home. Wine, ‘salad,’ my mom cut it, sausage, cheese…”
Elena looked at Vasily. Her first thought was to ask him to call a taxi back. But imagining herself walking into an empty apartment, Elena quickly changed her mind.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll take me to the train station when I want to go. And no trying to pressure me into doing something I don’t want to do.”
“Of course.”
Elena entered Vasily’s apartment with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she hoped that this meeting on the bus might turn out to be fate — here it was, a second chance… But on the other hand, the voice from the kitchen nearly crushed her hopes.
“Vasya! Is that you?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Did you buy kefir?”
“No.”
“Why not? What am I supposed to eat my okroshka with?”
“Mom, I came with a guest.”
“With a guest? Okroshka doesn’t go with guests. I need kefir.”
“Lena, go on in, make yourself at home. I’ll be right back… the store is in our building,” Vasily apologized and, without waiting for a response, dashed out the door.
Lena decided to head toward the kitchen.
“Good afternoon…”
A woman in her seventies stood across from her in an apron. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and her sharp features and dryness reminded Lena of a nasty old woman with a rat on a leash from her favorite cartoon. And as if to confirm her thoughts, a small dog, resembling a rat, ran out from behind the corner. The rat-dog started barking at Lena.
For some reason, Vasily’s mother didn’t notice this. She just kept staring at Elena, waiting for something.
“Hello!” Lena repeated a little louder.
“Good day…”
“Could you please calm your dog? I’m afraid he might bite me.”
“He’s part of the family, and he won’t bite you. He’s just showing that he’s protecting his owner.”
Lena didn’t know how to respond to that. She decided to wait for Vasily in the hallway.
“What are your plans for my son? Do you want to marry him?” the woman asked Lena’s back.
“I don’t have any plans. He invited me over, and I came.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m back. Mom, here’s the kefir. Lena, this is my mother, Larisa Nikolaevna. Baron, hush!” Vasily tried to lighten the mood. “Well, let’s sit down at the table.”
“Wash your hands before sitting down at the table!” commanded Larisa Nikolaevna. “And how can we sit down without Alexander?”
“Who’s Alexander?” Lena quietly asked.
“Sasha — my son. I’ll call him now.”
The guy didn’t pick up the phone, and after a few minutes of pointless arguing, they decided not to wait. Finally, Lena was invited to the table.
The table didn’t look abundant: aside from the okroshka, there was stale cheese, questionable-looking sausage, and a lot of bread. Instead of the promised wine, there was a carton of kefir on the table.
“So, you’re divorced?” Larisa Nikolaevna asked.
“Yes.”
“Why did your husband leave you? Although don’t answer, I can guess…”
“And why’s that?”
“He found someone young and beautiful? What’s it like living with us old women?” Larisa Nikolaevna laughed hoarsely.
“I’m far from old. I’m not even retired yet,” Lena blushed.
“Do you work? At least that’s a plus… What do you do? I hope your salary’s good? At our place, it’s understood: all the money goes to me. And I’ll make sure to save it.”
“Vasily, didn’t you say you work as a perfumer?” Lena turned to Vasily to avoid hearing her potential mother-in-law’s nonsense.
“A perfumer?!” Larisa Nikolaevna nearly fell off her chair from laughter. It was so loud and hoarse, it was unclear whether she was laughing or dying.
“Vasya the perfumer! Ha ha ha!”
“What? That’s not true?” Lena raised an eyebrow.
“He’s a security guard. In a household goods store.”
“What about the perfume?”
“We sell perfume and cosmetics, and other household products,” he confessed.
“I see…”
“Well, you probably got your hopes up! Oh, I can’t stop laughing! Vasya the perfumer! With his education and health, it’s a miracle they hired him as a guard! And by the way, are you healthy? No chronic diseases? Don’t answer though. I won’t believe you on your word. You’ll bring me all the documents. I need to know you won’t infect me with anything.”
Throughout the meal, Lena sat on edge. She couldn’t leave, but she didn’t want to stay either. Also, the chair they gave her was squeaky and incredibly uncomfortable…
She declined the “main dish,” asking for tea instead.
“We’ll have tea after the meal. Nobody drinks tea first!” Larisa Nikolaevna snapped.
“And why aren’t you eating the okroshka?” Vasily asked.
“I don’t like it.” Lena couldn’t understand how anyone could eat pickles, sausage, and onions drenched in kefir or kvass.
“What do you like?”
“Olivier salad.”
“Same as okroshka,” Larisa Nikolaevna sniffed. “And anyway, you don’t come to someone’s house empty-handed. You should’ve brought your ‘olivier’ with you. Then we could evaluate your culinary skills.”
“Lena, what do you like to cook?” Vasily asked.
“I like cooking everything. Cooking is my passion.”
“Maybe you could demonstrate something for us?”
Lena didn’t have a chance to respond before the doorbell rang, and Vasily’s son arrived.
“Hey, grandma! Hey, dad!” the teenager sat down at the table. He didn’t pay any attention to Lena.
“Lena, don’t just sit there! You see, a young man has arrived? He needs a clean plate, utensils…” Larisa Nikolaevna demanded, staring at the guest.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing to apologize for. Go to the kitchen and bring everything I said, quickly!” Vasily’s mother repeated sternly.
“Me?”
“You!”
Lena was taken aback.
“And take the dirty plates from the table. Wash them, dry them, and bring them back. We haven’t finished our meal yet.”
Lena stood up, gathered the dishes, and took them to the kitchen. She wasn’t planning on washing them. This whole situation felt like a prank. While she was trying to figure out what to do, Vasily appeared in the kitchen.
“Listen, Lena… Since you promised, could you quickly whip something up for tea? Maybe some pancakes, something quick? Sanya doesn’t like okroshka either, and my mom’s been acting strange lately. She demands kefir and okroshka every day…”
“I noticed her peculiar behavior.”
“Don’t pay attention, Lena. You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m afraid I won’t.”
“What are you two stuck on? Lena! How much longer do we have to wait for a simple plate?! You should be sent for death, that’s how slow you are!” Larisa Nikolaevna shouted. “You brought some kind of shabby woman! Unpolished, careless! What kind of wife can’t even bring a fork?”
Lena didn’t respond. She looked pityingly at Vasily, who didn’t really appeal to her, and, thanking him for the “romantic” dinner, she headed for the door.
“Lena, what about the pancakes?”
“Maybe next time.”
“She’s already leaving?!” Vasily’s mother noticed the noise in the hallway and the dog’s barking. “No sense of tact! She came, ate us out, and now she’s leaving! Where do you find such rude women, Vasily?!”
“MOM…”
“Goodbye, Larisa Nikolaevna,” Lena said, and without looking back, she hurried out.
At home, she was greeted by silence and peace.
“Oh, how good it is! I’m the mistress of my own life! I can eat jam if I want, I can make pancakes… but I won’t bake!” she said, surveying the room: her favorite couch, the chair with the soft upholstery, and her beloved cactus. What more do you need for happiness? Maybe just a little kitten.
Vasily called several times, tried to make suggestions. Once, he even waited for her at the bus stop. But Elena refused to continue the strange relationship.
Now Lena clearly understood that clinging to a man was a thankless task. Better alone than with a whole family of cockroaches in the potential mother-in-law’s and his relatives’ heads.
