A kind of premonition, intuition, whatever you want to call it. I called my partner, Masha, and asked her to cover for me, claiming I had health problems. She agreed, though I noticed a certain interest in her voice.
Masha had always been a bit of a gossip, but now I didn’t have time for explanations. Alone, I didn’t know what to do. Mechanically sorting the laundry, washing it, setting the scene. All these routine actions helped me think about the previous day, about what was happening with our marriage, with us.
It was almost noon when the door opened. I froze, holding a rag. Anton never came home that day.
Never. My first thought was that something had happened.
But after the lock clicked, there was no voice, no doorbell. The second sound was all too familiar. It was my sister’s voice, Natalya Viktorovna.
I sneaked down to the basement and hid behind the back door. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but something about the way they were talking, so casually during the workday, gave me the creeps…
Hold your breath. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst through the wall. Anton and his mother came into the room and looked toward the door. Obviously, don’t wait.
There could be someone at home.
“I told you so,” Natalya Viktorovna’s familiar, cold voice echoed. “I’m not your rival. I don’t want family or children. I only think about your career.”
It was like an electric shock. What career? What are you? Never… in a word… gave Nobody any reason to think she didn’t want a family.
Anton sighed deeply.
“Mom, let’s not do this. Now’s not the time.”
“Perfect time!” she said. “Look how it all ended. She got fired. And she was still so cocky, thinking she was smarter than everyone else. Did you warn her? I did. And what good did it do?”
I cover my mouth so I don’t give it away myself. I say I was fired. How did you present it? As if it were my fault, as a failure, as if I knew I was right.
“I don’t know what to do about this,” Anton muttered. “I didn’t even apologize. I just went to the bathroom and locked the door.”
“Exactly!” My voice turned sharp, like boiling water. “You still want to talk to your children? To a mother like this? I don’t support you in anything; I always have your attention. You need to think, Antosha. Think carefully. Before it’s too late.”
It gives me goosebumps. CHILDREN?! You’re talking to your mother… about the possibility of having children… and you’re wondering if I can be a mother?!
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