“Regina, where do you keep the folding bed? There’s only one bed in your mother’s apartment.”
Lyudmila Borisovna was already standing in the middle of the kitchen, still wearing her coat. She set the pie she had brought in a mesh shopping bag on the edge of the table.
“What folding bed?” Regina asked, peeling potatoes without looking up.
“Just a regular one. You probably don’t have one. Fine, I’ll bring mine. It’s light.”
“Lyudmila Borisovna, what are you even talking about?”
“The boys! Rodion and his brother are coming for their exams. Just for a month. They’ve been kicked out of the dorm because they’re doing renovations.”
Regina put the knife down on the cutting board and took a moment before answering.
“You mean they’re staying in my mother’s apartment?”
“Where else? It’s standing empty! It’s been empty for a year and a half, gathering dust.”
“There’s still a lot to sort through.”
“Well, you can sort it out while they’re there. The boys will help. They’re strong.”
“Not now, Lyudmila Borisovna.”
“Then when?” Lyudmila Borisovna pulled a stool closer and sat down as though she intended to stay for a while. “Their exams start on May twenty-sixth, not in November.”
Vitaly appeared in the doorway wearing sweatpants.
“Mom, why are you making such a fuss?”
“I’m not making a fuss. I’m explaining.” She turned toward her son. “The dorm is closed! The boys have nowhere to stay!”
“Well… I heard something about that.”
“Exactly. And I only have a two-bedroom apartment, and my sister is coming with them too. Am I supposed to put them on the floor?”
“They can rent a room,” Regina said.
“With what money?! My sister has nothing but her pension and her vegetable garden!”
“They’ll get their dorm room back afterward.”
“They will! In September!” Her mother-in-law slapped her palm against the table. “I’ve already made a list of what they’ll need. A saucepan, a grater. Your mother didn’t have a decent grater. I checked.”
“You checked?”
“Back in the fall, when I let the plumber in. What, do you think I went rummaging through her cupboards? The grater was hanging right there in plain sight.”
“And I suppose you just happened to touch the bed linen too.”
“It was damp, that’s all. I’ll bring my own for the boys. Dry linen. The cupboard door was open. I wasn’t snooping.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t.” Lyudmila Borisovna leaned forward. “Regina, stop dancing around the subject. Just say it. Are you too stingy to let them stay?”
Regina stood up, turned on the tap, and rinsed her fingers. The water came out in uneven spurts, and she kept her hands beneath it longer than necessary.
“Take the pie out,” her mother-in-law ordered. “It’s made with kefir. I started it at six this morning.”
“Thank you.”
“‘Thank you.’ At least cut it. I didn’t bake it so it could sit there like decoration.”
“I’ll think about it, Lyudmila Borisovna.”
“Oh, it’s always ‘I’ll think about it’ with you!” Her mother-in-law pursed her lips. “Your mother, God rest her soul, would have let them stay without a second thought. She was a kind woman. Unlike…”
Lyudmila Borisovna stopped herself and smoothed the tablecloth with her palm.
“I’ve already told my sister it’s settled. The tickets are bought.”
Regina’s mother had died a year and a half earlier, in December. The two-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor had gone entirely to Regina. She had no brothers or sisters, so there had been no one to divide it with.
Regina went there every Saturday. She would open the wardrobe, move things from one shelf to another, and throw nothing away.
Vitaly had suggested a couple of times that they rent the apartment out. Extra money wouldn’t hurt, he had said.
Regina always answered, “We’ll deal with it later.”
Once, during the winter, she had even lied and said there were already tenants living there. That kept everyone quiet for about two weeks.
Her mother-in-law had started dropping hints even before Vitaly did. One day some friend’s daughter needed a place to stay for a while. Another time a niece was renovating her apartment. Sometimes she mentioned it casually: the apartment was just sitting there when it could be earning money.
That evening, Regina sat down on the edge of the sofa beside her husband.
“Vitaly. Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“About the boys.”
“Well… Mom mentioned something.” He scratched his cheek. “It’s only a month, Regina.”
“A month.”
“It’s not a big deal. They’re good kids. Rodion was practically a straight-A student.”
“Vitaly. My mother’s things are there. Her bed. Everything.”
“They won’t touch anything!”
“Your mother already said we could move everything into the storage room.”
“So we move it. What’s the problem? It’s not gold.”
“Her bed is still made exactly the way it was when she was alive.”
Vitaly pulled a pillow toward himself.
“She doesn’t mean any harm, Regina. She worries about everyone.”
“Everyone. Right.”
“What am I supposed to do? She’s almost seventy.”
“Vitaly, what if it were her apartment? And I decided to move some of my relatives into it for a month.”
“But she doesn’t have an empty apartment.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“My mother. She has a two-bedroom place, and my aunt stays there sometimes.” He turned toward the wall. “Regina, don’t start this so late at night.”
“She’s almost seventy, and I’m forty-six. And it’s my apartment.”
“Listen, she has a key anyway.”
Regina straightened.
“What key?”
“You gave it to her in the fall. When the meters were being replaced and she had to let the repairman in.”
“I gave it to her for two days.”
“Yeah. And it’s been hanging on a nail at her place ever since. I’ve seen it.”
“Vitaly, tell her yourself.”
“Call her and explain nicely. Gently.”
“I’ve been speaking gently for a year.”
“Then you’re not doing it right.” He pulled the blanket up to his chin. “What does this have to do with me? This is between you women.”
“So I’m the one who gets blamed.”
“No one’s blaming anyone. Just find a way to keep everyone happy. You’re good at that.”
“It’s my apartment.”
“Exactly. So deal with it.” He got up and adjusted his sweatpants. “Regina, just do something already. Just don’t drag me into it.”
On Thursday, Regina stopped by her mother-in-law’s apartment to borrow a baking dish. Her own had cracked, and she needed one before the weekend.
She could have stayed away.
But she went.
In the small bedroom, a stack of bed linen was lying on the bed. Two blankets and two pillows had been tied together with string.
“What’s all this?”
“For the boys.” Her mother-in-law came out of the kitchen carrying a large saucepan. “I set this aside too. I’ll make them borscht on the first day so they don’t sit there hungry.”
“Lyudmila Borisovna.”
“Does the stove work? You said last year that one of the burners was acting up.”
“It works.”
“Wonderful.” She placed the saucepan on top of the blankets. “I’ll wash the curtains too. Your mother never washed them properly. And we’ll bring the folding bed over on Sunday. Vitaly can drive it there.”
“Vitaly won’t.”
“He will. Where’s he going to go?” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Just clear out one wardrobe, all right? We’ll move your mother’s things into the storage room. There’s plenty of space.”
Regina stood in the doorway without moving.
“Are you listening to me at all?”
“I’m listening. You’re the one who isn’t.” Her mother-in-law adjusted the stack so it sat evenly. “Regina, I’m not a stranger. I’m not asking you to sell the apartment. They’ll stay there for a month and leave.”
“Give me back my mother’s key.”
“Oh, the key.” Lyudmila Borisovna smoothed the blanket. “I’ll make the beds myself, so you won’t even have to go over there.”
“Give it back, Lyudmila Borisovna.”
“I will. After the exams.”
Her phone rang. She walked over to the window, and her voice immediately changed, becoming cheerful and bright.
“Yes! Yes, let them leave… What are you talking about? Of course she doesn’t mind! We’re family.”
She put the phone on the windowsill and returned to the blankets.
“My sister is worried. It’s the first time she’s sending the boys away on their own.”
“Lyudmila Borisovna, I never agreed.”
“‘My mother’s things,’” her mother-in-law mimicked. “‘Her things, her things!’” She threw up her hands. “They’re just old clothes hanging in a cupboard. Who needs them? I already told your mother’s neighbor that the boys would be staying there. She was happy. Said at least there would be lights in the windows.”
“You told the neighbor?”
“Well, yes. Don’t make that face. Living people matter more than old clothes.”
On Friday evening, Regina sat in the kitchen scrolling through advertisements. She messaged three locksmiths. Only one replied.
He was free on Saturday at eleven.
Regina arrived at her mother’s apartment by nine the next morning. She opened the windows and walked through both rooms.
Her mother’s coat was still hanging in the wardrobe, one button missing. It still had the same smell. Regina could never have explained what it smelled like, but she recognized it instantly.
It smelled like her mother.
The storage room was filled with jars. Every August, her mother had made zucchini spread and given most of it to the neighbors, even though she barely ate it herself.
For some reason, Regina started counting the jars. She lost track on the second row and closed the door.
The locksmith arrived shortly before eleven. He was young, carrying a toolbox, and worked quickly.
“The handle will look like this. There won’t be a keyhole at all. You’ll use your fingerprint. There’s also an emergency code.”
“And the keys?”
“There won’t be any keys anymore. None.”
“Install it.”
He removed the old lock in about ten minutes and put it on the windowsill beside his toolbox.
“It’s completely worn out. Anyone could copy a key from something like this.”
“They already have.”
The installation took a little over an hour. It wasn’t cheap, but Regina didn’t bargain.
“Put your finger here. Use the pad of your finger, not the tip.”
She touched the sensor. The handle flashed and released.
“One more time. It records it three times.”
She did it again.
And once more.
“Are you giving the code to anyone?” the locksmith asked.
“No one.”
“Then write it down somewhere for yourself. People forget, call me later, and then get angry.”
She wrote the numbers on the back of one of her mother’s old utility bills and slipped it into her pocket.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number appeared:
“Hello, Aunt Regina, it’s Rodion. Grandma told me to ask you for the address. We’re arriving on the morning of the twenty-sixth.”
Regina put the phone away without replying.
“That’s it,” the locksmith said. “Now only you can open it.”
On Sunday, her mother-in-law called four times.
Regina didn’t answer.
By evening, a message arrived:
“The boys are leaving tonight. No need to meet them. They’ll get there themselves.”
Regina looked at the screen and slipped the phone into the pocket of her robe.
On Monday, shortly after nine, the phone rang again.
“Regina! Where are you?! We’re standing outside!”
She arrived forty minutes later.
The fifth-floor landing was crowded. Rodion stood against the wall with a backpack. His younger brother was sitting on a duffel bag, staring at the toes of his sneakers.
Lyudmila Borisovna stood by the apartment door in her coat, holding the familiar mesh bag with the corner of a pie sticking out.
“What have you done?!” she shouted, pointing at the door handle. “What is this?”
“A handle.”
“I can see that it’s a handle! Where’s the hole?! Where do I put the key?!”
“Nowhere.”
“What do you mean, nowhere?!” She pulled and shook the handle. “Rodion, try it. You’ve got young, strong hands.”
Rodion didn’t move.
“Grandma, don’t.”
“Be quiet!” She turned to Regina. “Have you lost your mind? These boys have been traveling since seven in the morning! We stopped at the market. We’ve got cottage cheese!”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“You didn’t invite me! But what did the boys do wrong? They traveled all night!”
“They traveled all night because you told them to come.”
“I did! Because a mother ought to have some say in her own family!” She pulled the handle again. “Where’s Vitaly? I bet he doesn’t even know about this.”
“Vitaly is at work.”
“Of course he is! Hiding! And I brought the folding bed here in a taxi for nothing because he never drove it over. Did you forbid him?”
“I didn’t forbid anything.”
“Right. He’s become so obedient since he married you.”
Her mother-in-law tapped at her phone, put it to her ear, listened, and lowered it again.
“He’s not answering.”
Then she went to the neighboring apartment and rang the bell.
No one answered.
“Grandma, it’s half past nine,” Rodion said. “Everyone’s at work.”
“I know what time it is!”
She rummaged through the mesh bag, pulled out a packet of cottage cheese, and handed it to the younger boy.
“Here. Eat it. It’ll spoil in this heat anyway.”
“Aunt Regina.” Rodion stepped away from the wall. “We could pay you for the month. We have some money. Mom gave it to us.”
“Rodion, this isn’t about money.”
“Exactly!” his grandmother cried. “She doesn’t want money. She wants everyone walking on eggshells around her! Now I look like an idiot in front of my sister. What am I supposed to tell her?”
“Tell her you didn’t ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you?! I showed you everything on Thursday! The blankets! The saucepan!”
She sat down on the duffel bag beside the younger boy and tucked the hem of her coat beneath her.
“There are jars in the storage room too. The boys could have eaten them instead of letting good food go to waste.”
“You looked in the storage room too?”
“The door was open.”
“Regina.” Her voice dropped. “Just open the door. Open it once, and then we’ll figure the rest out.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?! Give me the key and that’s it! Give one to me, one to Vitaly, to whoever you want!”
“There is no key. No one has one. I don’t even have one.”
“What do you mean, you don’t have one?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. It needs a fingerprint now. Mine.”
Lyudmila Borisovna’s mouth fell open.
“A fingerprint?! Good Lord. Like in the movies!”
“Like in the movies.”
“And what if there’s a fire?! Are you going to mail your finger over?!”
“If there’s a fire, they break the door down. They don’t ask for a key.”
“She’s mocking me,” her mother-in-law announced to the entire landing. “Rodion, do you hear this? She’s mocking me.”
The younger boy shifted uncomfortably on the duffel bag.
“Grandma, let’s go. Rodion’s classmate said we could stay with him.”
“Sit down!”
Her mother-in-law fell silent. She adjusted her scarf and looked not at Regina, but at the mesh bag near her feet.
“I’ve asked you for one thing in my entire life. One thing. Back in February, when the pipes in our building were being replaced. You said you had tenants. But in the fall, I opened this apartment myself for your repairman. It was empty. Dust everywhere.”
Regina bent down, picked up an onion that had rolled out of the bag, and placed it back beside the pie.
Somewhere one floor below, someone started drilling.
By mid-July, Regina had rented out her mother’s apartment.
A couple with a child moved in under a one-year lease, and the rent was transferred directly to Regina’s bank account.
The boys returned to their dormitory in the middle of June. The renovations had taken only three weeks after all.
Vitaly said his mother had started calling him at work instead of calling the house.
They moved Regina’s mother’s boxes out on a Saturday. Vitaly carried them downstairs, grumbling because the elevator was broken again.
Rodion came to help on his own. He had messaged Regina a week earlier to ask whether she needed an extra pair of hands.
He had retaken both of his exams successfully in June.
Regina brought her mother’s coat with the missing button home with her.
Lyudmila Borisovna did not enter the apartment.
She stayed out on the landing by the window, still wearing her coat even though the day had been hot since early morning.
Regina brought a kitchen chair out for her.
Her mother-in-law sat down and adjusted the scarf over her shoulders.
“The pie’s in the bag, Rodion. Take it out. I baked it this morning. It’s still warm.”
