Lida hurried home. At last, the head doctor had signed off on her long-awaited vacation. Now she could finally delight her family with the news that soon all of them would be flying off on a holiday together.
Driving her beloved old car past the makeshift market that had sprung up at the beginning of their street, Lida decided to buy some large, rosy apples for her son and husband. And she herself suddenly craved the crunch of those wonderful juicy fruits—just like at her grandmother’s in childhood, where she spent every summer.
Lida parked near the spot where, a little apart from the other vendors, a man stood with buckets heaped high with tempting apples.
“Hello! How much for your beautiful apples? They smell amazing, simply magical. Do you grow them yourself?” Lida felt like chatting—just talking to a stranger for its own sake. Her heart was light and happy.
“Yes, they’re mine. From my own orchard. It’s a good year for them. Decided to sell the surplus. They’ll go to waste otherwise, and that’d be a shame.”
The man smiled kindly at Lida and poured a whole bucketful into her bag.
“Thank you! My boys will be thrilled.”
Lida drove home already imagining what she would make for dinner. Tonight’s dinner would be special. Her family deserved it. At last she would be able to rest and unwind. She would forget about her dissertation and those crazy months when day and night her head was filled only with work and the upcoming defense of her doctorate. She’d had to forget about her family. How had they—her son and her husband—managed without her? It must have been hard. But never mind; from now on things would be different.
Her husband wasn’t home—probably working late. Andrey was in his room, glued to his computer as usual.
“Hey, Mom! I’m starving—are we eating soon?” he asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Soon, honey. I’ll start cooking now. Has Dad called?”
Lida walked up to her son and put an arm around him. He’d gotten so big already, and she hadn’t even noticed how he’d grown.
“Dad’s running late again. He called about an hour ago to say he had urgent work. He actually thought you’d be getting in close to midnight again today. Told me to make myself something and have dinner.”
“Really? And what urgent work would that be? Strange. Well, never mind—I’ll find out for myself.”
Lida left her son’s room. A pity there wouldn’t be the celebratory dinner she had planned. If Dima was stuck at work, she and Andryusha could keep it simpler. She’d fry some cutlets and boil some pasta, with her signature sauce. And toss together a little salad.
With a sigh she put the bottle of dry white wine she’d picked up for tonight’s dinner into the fridge. Oh well, they could open it next time—no big deal.
Dima came home well past midnight and went straight to bed. Lida, though awake, felt it wasn’t the time to share her news.
And in the morning, after Andryusha had already run off to school, her husband said words that made Lida’s head swim.
“You’re leaving? For whom?” she whispered with lips that wouldn’t obey her.
“You don’t know her. And what difference does it make.”
“What about me and our son? He’s in his final year. If you don’t care about me, at least think about the child. This is so stressful,” Lida said, just to keep from falling silent.
It seemed to her that if she stopped talking now, Dima would turn and walk out. But as long as she kept speaking, kept asking questions, he was still here, next to her, and maybe something could still be fixed. God, what nonsense. Dima had cheated on her!
The last few days at work passed on autopilot. She didn’t want to think about anything. There was a deep ache inside, and there was no medicine for that dull pain. If anyone should know that, it was her—she was a doctor. A very good one.
Lida suggested to her son that they fly to Turkey during the fall break. Yes, it was early November, but the weather there was lovely then—no blazing heat, but still warm enough to sunbathe and swim.
Her son agreed. He, too, was struggling with his father’s departure, and Lida desperately wanted to cheer Andryusha up, if only a little.
It wasn’t a perfect cure, but the sea did help them both to switch off. Lida even managed to convince herself that this wasn’t the end of life. She was young, smart, and healthy. She had a wonderful, almost grown son, a job she loved, a home. And everything else, when you really think about it, wasn’t so important.
But when they came back home, a surprise awaited Lida. And what a surprise.
In their house were Dmitry and his new love—the one for whom he had destroyed their marriage.
“What’s going on? Have you decided to introduce us to your chosen one? Only, neither my son nor I have any interest in that,” Lida said, unable to keep her emotions in check.
“You’re mistaken. Veronika and I are going to live here now. And you and your son will move out. And the sooner you do it, the better,” Dmitry declared, all cold cynicism.
“What? We’re supposed to move out of our own home? Has love melted your brains? Or did you never have any to begin with?”
“Watch your mouth,” the husband’s live-in girlfriend suddenly cut in. “Better yet, pack your things and get out of here with your son. What’s unclear? We’re the ones who’ll live in this house now! I’m in charge here!”
“What is this?” Lida demanded, pointing at the mistress. “I’m standing in my own home, and some tramp is going to make faces at me and throw me out? Have you two lost it?”
“Veronika, step out for now—I’ll talk to her myself,” Dmitry said, nervous.
“Exactly—and not just step out, she can get out altogether, because I’m calling the police right now. Maybe she’ll even manage to disappear before they arrive!”
“Lida, hold off with the police. Let’s talk like civilized people,” Dmitry began.
“Let’s. Only why on earth did you drag this brainless upstart in here? Do you seriously think I’ll allow her to be in this house? And what was that nonsense I just heard about how my son and I are supposed to go live somewhere else?”
“Well, we wanted to explain everything to you, and you immediately flew into a scene,” Dmitry tried again to smooth things over.
“Oh, that’s rich. So I’m the one making a scene, am I?”
“Enough. Let’s talk about the house, finally.”
“Let’s. My son and I will be living in this house. What’s unclear? Any other questions?” Lida fired back, crisp and clear.
“Why you two? I have a right to half the house! And Veronika and I have decided we’ll live here. I’ll pay you for your half—you and your son can buy an apartment. I’ve got a good project lining up at work, I’ll get a decent payout for it, and in the near future I’ll settle up with you for the house.”
“No, you won’t be living here. Don’t even dream about it—and tell your girl to roll up her lip,” Lida said firmly. “My father helped us build this house; he poured so much of his effort and money into it that I won’t let anyone think that someone other than my son and his future family will live here.”
“Enough about your late, lamented father! There’s the law, and by law the house belongs to the two of us. So it’s far from decided how this will turn out.”
“Oh, I know exactly how it will turn out. Now get out, both of you—take your rude little darling and go—far away. Or I will call the police. And if they let you stay, she’ll have to leave the house by force.”
Dmitry and Veronika left reluctantly, but they left. And Lida sat down to think how she and her son could protect themselves from the encroachments of the brazen lovers.
Her father really had helped build that house—he’d had good connections in construction at the time. He helped with materials and with crews. And he slipped them money so the building wouldn’t stall.
And when he fell gravely ill two years ago, he begged his daughter to keep the house for his grandson and future great-grandchildren.
“All right, Dad, I promise you—the house will stay in our family forever,” Lida had said through tears.
Her father passed away six months later. And now it turned out that her ex-husband had decided to throw her and her son out.
“You won’t pull this off. I’ll bust my tail if I have to, but I’ll defend my house,” Lida said with quiet certainty.
And then the solution came. Unexpectedly, and very simply. The way the right people sometimes enter our lives, as if someone sends them to help us in hard times.
That day Lida was driving home from work. Passing the market, she again saw the man who had been selling apples there recently. There were no bright, juicy fruits in his buckets this time. He was selling potatoes.
“Hello!” Lida walked up to him and smiled. “I wanted to thank you for those apples. They were so delicious. Just wonderful!”
“My pleasure! Glad you liked them. Here—try some potatoes. They’re tasty and fluffy,” the pleasant man offered.
“Oh, you grow potatoes too? You must have quite a plot—what, twenty sotkas?”
“No, these aren’t mine. I’m helping an elderly neighbor. She’s alone, and her pension is small. I helped dig them up, and now I’m selling the surplus for her. You have to help people who are alone,” he said thoughtfully.
“You know what, I’ll take some. I suddenly want boiled potatoes with onion and oil—sunflower oil, the kind that smells like seeds.”
“And some lightly salted herring,” he added with a smile.
“Exactly!”
They both burst out laughing—easy and unforced.
“I’m Pyotr. I live on the next street over.”
“And I’m Lidiya. My house is at the end of this street. Nice to meet you.”
All evening she was under the spell of that meeting. Her heart felt inexplicably light.
From then on, every time she turned onto her street, Lida hoped to see Pyotr there. But, sadly, he wasn’t.
And then they met again, completely by chance, at the supermarket. They were both pleasantly surprised. They even exchanged phone numbers, deciding it must be fate.
One day Lida called Pyotr and told him about her trouble. She so wanted to share her pain with someone that she could no longer hold it in.
“Lida, I’ll help you,” he promised simply and firmly, without unnecessary words.
“You’ll help me?” she asked, surprised and relieved. “How?”
“Well, we still need to go over the details. But in principle I already understand what needs to be done,” Pyotr replied.
A few days later Lida called Dmitry and asked him to come to the house.
As Dmitry drove up to what used to be his home, he had no idea what awaited him inside.
“Oh, he’s been out carousing, our young lad, our handsome lad! In a red little shirt, so fine!” A folk tune flowed from the living room as Dmitry opened the front door.
Two dark-haired little boys ran out to meet him and darted past, deeper into the house.
“Well then, Roma folks, it’s a good house. Big and beautiful. We like it,” a stout elderly man said to his kinsmen seated at a large, well-laid table.
“W-what’s going on here?” the ex-husband stammered.
“Ah, Dima, you’ve arrived? Good,” Lida said. “Come meet Pyotr Ilyich, my attorney. And these are his friends who want to buy my share of the house. By law, we first have to offer you the chance to buy out my portion, which I’ve already had formally partitioned in kind. If you refuse, I already have buyers. Here they are—allow me to introduce them.”
The representatives of the Roma community seated at the table nodded along with Lidiya’s words.
“What kind of circus is this?” Dmitry shouted, furious. “What have you set up here?”
“No circus, sir—everything’s strictly by the law. We have another option: you agree to sell your share of the house to the lady of the house. We can formalize the deal very soon,” Pyotr answered calmly but firmly.
“I’m not selling anything! Is that clear? I’m going to live here myself!”
Dmitry left, but very soon he called Lida and agreed to let her buy out his share. He never did come up with the money to purchase her portion.
And now Lidiya lives peacefully in her house with her son. He finished school and entered the medical academy. He wants to become a doctor, just like his mom.
Lida is seeing Pyotr. They’re in no rush; they’re still getting used to each other, watching and learning one another, simply enjoying being together. And how things will turn out—life will show.
