— Nin, hi! Am I bothering you? — my daughter-in-law Katya’s voice rang in the receiver with a forced cheerfulness.
I silently stirred the long-cold soup with a spoon. You’re not bothering me. I’m never busy when they need something.
— I’m listening, Katyusha.
— We have news — it’s amazing! Lesha and I got tickets, we’re flying to Turkey for two weeks! All inclusive, can you imagine? So spontaneous, a last-minute deal!
I imagined it. The sea, the sun, Lesha and Katya. And somewhere off-camera — their five-year-old son Misha. My grandson.
— Congratulations. I’m very happy for you, — the words came out even, lifeless, like instructions for medicine.
— See! And you’ll take Misha to your place, right? He can’t go to kindergarten now, there’s some chickenpox going around again.
And he has swimming lessons, can’t miss those. And an appointment with the speech therapist next week, I’ll send you the whole schedule.
She spoke quickly, not letting me say a word, as if afraid I’d have time to think and refuse. Though I never refused.
— Katya, I was thinking of going to the dacha for a couple of days while the weather’s still nice… — I began, not believing in my weak attempt.
— The dacha? — genuine amazement slipped into her voice, as if I planned to fly to Mars. — Mom, what dacha? What are you thinking?
Misha needs attention now, and you’re talking about garden beds. We’re not going for fun, but to strengthen health. Sea air, vitamins!
I looked out the window at the gray yard. My sea air. My vitamins.
— And also, — Katya continued without pause, — our premium cat food will be delivered on Wednesday, twelve kilograms.
The courier will come between ten and six, so don’t leave the house, okay? And please water our flowers, especially the orchid. She’s delicate.
She listed my duties as if they were self-evident. I wasn’t a person, but a function. A convenient free app to their comfortable life.
— Okay, Katya. Of course.
— That’s my smart girl! I knew I could always count on you! — she chirped as if she had granted me the greatest favor. — Alright, kisses, gotta run to pack!
The line went dead with short beeps.
I slowly put the phone on the table.
My gaze fell on the wall calendar. The next Saturday was circled in red — the day of a meeting with friends I hadn’t seen for almost a year.
I took a damp cloth and with one motion erased that red mark. As if erasing one more tiny piece of my own unlived life.
In my head there was no resentment, no anger. Only a viscous, all-consuming emptiness and a quiet, distinct question: when will they notice that I am not just a free app, but a living person?
Probably only when they see me at the airport with a one-way ticket.
Misha was brought over the next day. Lesha, my son, carried my grandson’s huge suitcase, a sports bag with swim gear, and three bags of toys into the apartment. He avoided looking me in the eyes.
— Mom, we’re quick, or we’ll be late for the airport, — he babbled, setting the suitcase right in the middle of the hallway.
Katya rushed in after him, already in vacation mode — a light dress, a straw hat. She cast a quick, assessing glance around my modest apartment.
— Nina, just don’t let Misha watch cartoons for too long, better to read to him. And less sweets, otherwise he’ll be uncontrollable.
Here’s a list, I wrote everything down, — she handed me a folded sheet. — There’s the schedule, phone numbers for the speech therapist, coach, allergist. And what to prepare for him each day.
She spoke as if I was seeing my own grandson for the first time. As if I hadn’t been with him since birth, while they built their careers.
— Katya, I remember what he likes, — I said quietly.
— Remembering is one thing, diet is another, — she cut in. — Okay, Mishyul, be a good boy, obey grandma! We’ll bring you a really big jeep!
They left, leaving behind a trail of expensive perfume and a drafty feeling.
Misha, realizing he was abandoned, burst into tears. The first three days were a continuous marathon.
Pool on one side of town, speech therapist on the other. Tantrums, crying at night, and endless “I want my mom.” I was falling with exhaustion.
On the fourth day, I dared to call my son. They were just supposed to check into the hotel.
— Hello, mom? Is something wrong? Is Misha okay? — Lesha’s voice was tense.
— Misha’s fine, don’t worry. Lesha, I wanted to talk… It’s very hard for me. I can’t keep up with this pace.
Maybe you could find a way to hire a nanny for a few hours a day? I’d pay half.
Silence hung on the other end of the line. Then Lesha sighed heavily.
— Mom, don’t start, okay? We just arrived. Katya was already on edge before leaving. What nanny? Who would we trust with the child? You’re grandma. It should be a joy for you.
— Lesha, joy doesn’t cancel out fatigue. I’m not getting younger.
— You’re just out of practice, — he said gently but insistently. — You’ll get used to it. Let’s not ruin each other’s vacation. We don’t get away often. Okay, mom, bye. Katya’s calling.
He hung up. I looked at the phone and something slowly hardened inside me. Not resentment.
More like a cold, clear understanding. For him, I’m not a mom who might find it hard. I’m a resource. Reliable, proven, and most importantly, free.
On Wednesday, just as Katya promised, the courier arrived with the cat food. A young guy indifferently dropped the huge, unwieldy bag on the doorstep and left, mumbling something about “delivery to the apartment door.”
I spent ten minutes trying to drag those twelve kilograms into the hallway, straining my back. When I finally succeeded, I sat on the floor next to the bag, smelling of dried fish, and laughed. A quiet, silent laugh.
In the evening, Katya called. The sound of waves and music played in the background.
— Nina, hi! How are you? Did you water my orchid? Only with settled water, remember? And not on the leaves, but at the root!
She didn’t ask how Misha was. Didn’t ask how I was. She cared about the flower.
— I remember, Katya. Everything’s under control, — I replied, looking at that damned bag of food.
That night I hardly slept. I wasn’t thinking about the dacha or the meeting with friends. I opened the closet, took out my old savings book and passport. Just looked at them, running my fingers over the cover.
The thought that came that day after the call no longer seemed just a fantasy. It was taking shape. Becoming a plan.
A click happened on the tenth day of their “vacation.” The phone rang after lunch, when I had just put Misha to sleep. Lesha again.
— Mom, hi! How’s our fighter?
— Sleeping, — I answered shortly.
— Listen, here’s the thing… — he hesitated, and I immediately knew — a request was coming. — We like it here so much, it’s paradise. And the hotel offers a discount if we extend for another week. Can you imagine what luck?
I was silent. I already knew what was next.
— So, we decided to stay. But we miscalculated the money a bit… — he spoke with that cajoling tone I hated. — Mom, could you…
Well, Katya remembered you have dad’s sapphire earrings. You don’t wear them anyway.
— What do you want, Lesha? — my voice was frighteningly calm.
— Take them to the pawnshop, okay? — he blurted out. — They’ll give a decent amount, just enough for us. And when we come back — we’ll buy everything back. Honest! Why should they gather dust in the closet? And here — real emotions!
In the background I heard Katya’s voice: “Lesha, stop stammering! Nina, it’s just a thing! And we’ll have a proper vacation!”
Just a thing. My memories. My family. My life. Just a thing you can pawn to pay for their “real emotions.”
And at that moment something inside me finally froze. Not broken, not cracked, but froze, turning into an icy, sharp crystal.
The emptiness that tormented me suddenly filled with cold, ringing resolve.
— Fine, — I said evenly. — How much do you need?
— Really? Mom, I knew you were the best! — my son rejoiced. — Fifty thousand will be enough. Just take a photo of the receipt, so we know how much to repay.
— Of course, Leshenka. Don’t worry. Enjoy your vacation.
I hung up. Walked to the door of the room and opened it slightly. Misha was sleeping, arms spread wide, puckering his lips in sleep. My little boy, needed by no one but me.
And the icy crystal in my chest cracked for the first time. I couldn’t abandon him. Couldn’t give him to strangers. But I also couldn’t live like before.
I took my phone and typed a short message to my son: “I will not sell the earrings.
Your vacation ends in four days, as in the tickets. If you’re not here by Sunday, on Monday I’m going to social services. And this is not negotiable.”
The reply came almost instantly: “Are you threatening us?!” I didn’t answer. I opened the airline website and bought a ticket. Antalya. Departure next Tuesday. No return date.
They came Sunday evening. Didn’t enter — burst into the apartment. Sunburned, angry, and mortally offended.
— Well, happy now?! — Katya started from the doorway. — You ruined the best vacation of our lives! Manipulator!
Lesha silently went to the room where Misha was building a constructor. My son threw himself around his neck.
I came out of the kitchen holding my passport with the ticket tucked inside. I was completely calm.
— I’m glad you came back to your son, — I said quietly. — Now listen to me. Both of you.
They fell silent, surprised by my tone.
— Five years, Lesha. Five years I was your shadow.
I picked Misha up from kindergarten when Katya couldn’t make it from the manicure. I stayed with him at night when he was teething, so you could get enough sleep before work.
I canceled dozens of meetings, trips, plans, because “mom, we need help.”
I spent more time with your son than both of you. I was your free function.
I looked at my daughter-in-law.
— You never asked how my health was, Katya. But you always remembered your orchid. You decided it would always be like this. That I wouldn’t go anywhere.
I put the passport with the ticket on the table.
— You’re wrong. I love Misha very much. That’s why I waited for you and didn’t turn your life into official hell. But my role in it is over. I want to see the sea too.
Lesha took the ticket incredulously. His eyes widened.
— Turkey?.. Mom, you… for how long?
— I haven’t decided yet, — I shrugged and took my small pre-packed bag. — I want to live for myself. And you… you’re parents now. One hundred percent. Without help, discounts, or favors. Learn.
I went to Misha, kissed him on the crown of his head.
— Grandma will be back soon, — I lied to him and smiled.
And I walked out the door. Leaving them three in my small apartment. Leaving them with twelve kilograms of cat food, a fickle orchid, and full responsibility for their own lives.
For the first time in many years, I felt not emptiness, but anticipation.
