— Mom, can I come in? I need to talk, — Natalia stood in the doorway of her parents’ apartment, clutching a large bag.
— Come in, but take off your shoes carefully, I just cleaned the floors, — her mother stepped aside to let her in. — Your dad’s home, reading the newspaper.
The apartment smelled of fried potatoes and cutlets. Fyodor, the younger brother, was supposed to return from his trip, and their mother always cooked his favorite food.
Natalia went into the room, catching her breath, and sat down on the couch. Her belly was already noticeably protruding under her loose dress.
— Your legs are swollen again? — her father asked, putting down the newspaper. — Maybe you should see a doctor?
— It’s fine, dad. Is this the first time? — Natalia adjusted the pillow behind her back. — Listen, I wanted to discuss something… — she hesitated. — I have an idea. About the apartment.
— What apartment? — her mother came in with a cup of tea for her daughter.
— Yours, — Natalia took a sip of the hot tea. — Look, there’s enough space for you and Fedya here, right? He’s in one room, you’re in the other. What if you sell the two-room apartment and get a one-room…
— And give you the difference? — a mocking voice came from the door. Fyodor was leaning against the doorway, still wearing his work jacket with the transport company logo. — Looks like you’re not wasting any time, sis.
— Fedya, you’re back already? — their mother perked up. — I’ll warm something up…
— Later, — he waved her off, eyes fixed on his sister. — First, let’s hear what ideas you have.
— Fedya, why are you starting like that? — Natalia frowned. — I’m serious. It really would be fine for you to live in a one-room…
— Who would it be more convenient for? — he walked into the room and loudly threw his trucker bag into the corner. — Me with our parents in a one-room apartment? Or you with our money?
— Son, don’t shout like that, — their father tried to calm him. — Let’s talk calmly.
— What’s there to discuss? — Fyodor paced the room. — Five years ago, we sold the summer house and gave it to her. Now what, the apartment too? You bought the eldest daughter an apartment? Then go live with her, — Fyodor told their parents.
— I’m actually having a third child! — Natalia also raised her voice. — We need to expand! It’s already cramped in the three-room!
— And what about me? — Fyodor suddenly turned to his sister. — I’m thirty-two years old and still don’t have my own place because all the family money went to you! For your three-room!
— Well, that’s right, — Natalia scoffed. — Because I achieved something in life. I have a normal husband, a business, kids, an apartment…
— Normal husband? — Fyodor laughed out loud. — The one who’s closing store after store? The whole city already knows your Pavel is up to his ears in debt.
Natalia went pale:
— What are you talking about?
— Stop pretending, sis. I’m a trucker, I travel all over the region. Do you know how much talk is going around? Two stores already closed in the next city, here three are barely surviving. Suppliers don’t give goods because you haven’t paid for the old ones. So why do you really need the parents’ money?
A heavy silence hung in the room. Their mother looked from daughter to son fearfully:
— Natasha, tell me that’s not true. It can’t be true, right?
Natalia went limp on the couch:
— I didn’t want to tell you… Pavel really has problems. Serious problems. The stores aren’t profitable; two had to be closed already. Suppliers are demanding their debts back. If we don’t find money fast…
— And you decided to leave parents without a home? — Fyodor shook his head. — So we’d have to squeeze in a one-room with them while you cover your husband’s debts?
— What else can I do? — Natalia snapped. Her eyes were red. — I have two little ones! The third is coming soon! We could lose everything!
— Then solve your problems yourself! — Fyodor shouted. — Stop living off your parents! They gave you everything all your life — sold the summer house, gave you all their savings! And now you want to take the last thing?
— You’re just jealous! — Natalia jumped up, almost knocking over her cup. — Jealous that I succeeded, that I managed to marry a normal guy, unlike you… Who are you? A driver!
— Yeah, you “made it,” — Fyodor smirked. — So now you want to rob the parents. Hey, maybe you should take them in? Since they gave you everything — the summer house and the money — let them live with you!
— What? — Natalia recoiled. — No! I have my own family, little kids…
— Ah, so you can take from them but not help? You only know how to take!
— You don’t understand anything! — Natalia grabbed her bag, her hands trembling. — We have such problems… Pavel might lose everything!
— And we’re supposed to be left homeless? — Fyodor stepped closer to his sister. — Get out of here. Stop milking our parents. Solve your own problems.
Natalia stormed out, slamming the door so hard the glass in the china cabinet rattled. Their mother sank onto a chair, covering her face with her hands:
— Why are you like that with your sister? She’s pregnant…
— And how should I be with her? — Fyodor sat across, rubbing his neck tiredly. His whole body ached from the long trip. — You see, she doesn’t care about you. The main thing is to get the money.
— But she really has a difficult situation…
— And what about us? — he looked around the old apartment with peeling wallpaper and cracked window paint. — Dad, your pension is next year. Mom, your blood pressure spikes. And she wants you to move to a one-room apartment in a new district far from the clinic…
— Maybe she’ll come to her senses, — the father said quietly.
But Natalia didn’t come to her senses. A week passed with no news from her. Their mother tried calling — Natalia ignored the calls. Then something unexpected happened — Pavel came.
Fyodor was just about to leave for work — a new trip was starting. There was a knock at the door. Standing there was his sister’s husband — gaunt, in a wrinkled suit, with empty eyes.
— Can I come in? — His voice was hoarse and tired. — We need to talk.
Their mother silently led her son-in-law into the kitchen. Fyodor wanted to leave, but his father stopped him:
— Sit down, son. Listen. This concerns the whole family.
Pavel was silent for a long time, twisting a cup of cold tea in his hands. Then he spoke:
— I came to apologize. For myself, for Natasha. We shouldn’t have dragged you into all this.
— What happened? — their mother asked quietly.
— It’s all over. The business is done for, — he smiled bitterly. — Yesterday, they closed the last store. Creditors came, took the goods, equipment, the car. I thought I could manage somehow. Borrowed, borrowed again… Natasha believed in me, that’s why she came to you. Thought if you sold the apartment…
— Did you think about your parents? About asking pensioners for the last of their money? — Fyodor couldn’t hold back.
— You’re right, — Pavel looked up. — Absolutely right. I got carried away. Tried to play the big businessman, took on too many loans. And when it all fell apart, I couldn’t think straight. Now I’m ashamed to look anyone in the eye.
— And how is Natasha? — their mother was worried.
— She cries all the time. Says she doesn’t know how to build her life anymore. She’s ashamed to come to you after that conversation. You know how proud she is…
— But are you managing somehow? The kids are small…
— We’re trying, — Pavel nodded. — I got a job as a delivery driver at a wholesale company. Natasha also found a job — she’ll go work as an administrator at a mall once she recovers from childbirth. We’ll live like everyone else. Just… — he hesitated, — please forgive us. We shouldn’t have involved you.
When Pavel left, a heavy silence hung in the kitchen. Fyodor sat, staring out the window at the gray autumn yard. Thoughts about his sister swirled in his head. How much she had changed over the years — from a cheerful girl to a haughty rich wife. And now…
— You know, son, — his father suddenly said. — You did the right thing not letting us sell the apartment. We spoiled Natasha all the time, always forgave her. And she…
A month later, Natalia appeared again at the door. Thinner, only her belly sticking out sharply, in a simple dress, without her usual jewelry and makeup. She sat down right in the hallway and burst into tears:
— Forgive me. I’m such a… You’ve done so much for me, and I…
Their mother rushed to her:
— That’s enough now. You’ll manage somehow.
Fyodor looked at his sister and didn’t recognize her — where was the recent proud woman? Sitting tearful, unmade, in worn-out shoes.
— Alright, — he finally said. — Forget it. Now you’ll live like everyone else, no fancy stuff.
— Thank you, — Natalia raised her tear-stained eyes. — For not letting them sell the apartment then. You were right — we have to manage ourselves.
That evening, they sat long in the kitchen. Natalia told how everything fell apart — first one store closed, then the second. How Pavel ran all over the city trying to find money. How she didn’t sleep at night, thinking what to do next.
— You know, — she said to her brother, — I really thought we were better than everyone else. That since we had money, we were special. And now… Pavel delivers freight, I’ll soon go to work at the mall. Like normal people.
— Well, good, — Fyodor nodded. — There’s nothing bad about that. I’m driving trucks too — and I don’t complain.
A year passed. Natalia had her third child — a boy. Pavel worked as a delivery driver, was gone all day, but always came home with groceries. Natalia got a remote job as a copywriter, quickly learned, even got a bonus for the first quarter.
One evening, Fyodor stopped by his sister’s after a trip. Natalia was busy with the kids in the kitchen:
— Oh, brother! Come in, I’ll pour you some soup.
— Just for a minute. Here, for these little ones, — he pulled out a bag with candy and toys.
The older children ran squealing to their uncle. Natalia smiled:
— You spoil them all the time.
— Why not? — Fyodor tossed the nephew up. — You’re raising good boys.
Later, when the kids ran off to the room, Natalia poured tea for her brother:
— Listen, I wanted to ask. You know that company, “Transoil”? Pavel got an offer to switch there, salary’s better.
— Good company, — Fyodor nodded. — I work with them often. They pay on time.
— That’s what I tell him — to agree. But he’s afraid to change.
— After his own business? Understandable. But they really pay well.
Natalia was silent for a moment, then said:
— You know, I recently passed by our old stores. There’s some pharmacy chain there now. And you know — I’m not even sad. Like it was all another life.
— That’s right, — Fyodor sipped his tea. — You live well now. You have a job, the kids are growing.
The next day Fyodor visited their parents. Father was reading the newspaper, mother tending seedlings on the windowsill.
— Fedya, sit down, — father put down the paper. — We talked with your mother…
— No introductions, dad.
— In short, we decided to give you some money. For a down payment on a mortgage. We saved a little.
— What? — Fyodor even stood up. — What money? You should keep it yourselves…
— Don’t argue with your father, — mother interrupted. — We see how hard you’re working. And they just raised the pension…
— No way, — Fyodor shook his head. — I’ll manage myself. You keep the money.
— We know how you manage, — father grumbled. — You take extra trips, work yourself to the bone. Take it, don’t argue. You’ve always been our support.
Fyodor wanted to refuse but then thought — how long can I keep renting? And agreed.
Two weeks later he found a suitable one-room. Not in the center, but near work. Parents helped with the down payment, the rest was mortgage.
— Well, now you have your own place, — mother said, helping with the move. — Not renting anymore…
— It’s fine, mom. I managed.
Natalia also came to help. Brought some curtains and pots:
— This is from Pavel and me. A housewarming gift.
— I have everything.
— Take it, take it, — she started putting dishes in the cupboards. — You know, I thought… You were right to yell at me then. I really got carried away. Kept demanding, demanding…
— Forget it, — Fyodor waved. — The main thing is you understood.
That evening, after everyone left, he sat in the kitchen of his new apartment. The city buzzed outside the window, the kettle whistled on the stove. Fyodor smiled — well, it all worked out. Bought an apartment, made peace with his sister. And most importantly — their parents stayed in their two-room.
Now he visited his parents on weekends — brought groceries, helped around the house. Their mother always tried to give him cutlets to take home:
— Take it, son. I know you don’t cook for yourself.
— I eat fine, mom.
— Take it, take it, — she shoved a container at him. — You’re the only one I have.
And what more do parents need? The main thing — children nearby. Everything settled with Natalia, and Fyodor got his own home. Life was slowly getting better.
