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<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Olga was ironing the children\u2019s clothes, occasionally brushing away the tears that welled up. The tears were utterly pointless\u2014after all, there was less than an hour left until the morning performance for Sema and Volodya, and there were still so many tasks to complete. Why had she set the ironing board by the shelf with Ivan\u2019s portrait? She had forgotten. She\u2019d forgotten that she still couldn\u2019t bear to look calmly at the contrast between the somber border and his youthful face, at his radiant, toothy smile. At least she no longer cried out loud as she used to.<\/p>\n
The iron hissed as it released puffs of steam, drawing perfect creases on the trousers, while Olga\u2019s thoughts drifted far away\u2014to that summer evening on the embankment when she first met Ivan. That night, the wind had snatched her new white hat and carried it toward the water. Olga had gasped and frozen by the balustrade, unsure how to retrieve her hat. Suddenly, one of the young men sitting on the pier with his fishing rod had nimbly dived into the water and swum after the hat. Reaching it, he waved it like a flag and shouted something to Olga. She couldn\u2019t make out his words, but understood that he was asking her to wait until he reached the shore. Within a few minutes, before her stood not exactly a hunk, but a very charming guy with a smile that was impossible not to return.<\/p>\n
\u201cKeep your beauty,\u201d he said, extending the slightly damp hat. \u201cIt will dry\u2014then it\u2019ll be as good as new. Not even the little flowers are crushed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga blushed and began to carefully examine the forget-me-nots on the silk ribbon, now sprinkled with droplets of seawater like dew.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you very much,\u201d she finally managed to say, calming her nerves. \u201cI don\u2019t know how to thank you. This is my favorite hat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have many of them?\u201d he suddenly asked in a serious tone.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot really, but I have different ones. I enjoy wearing them. Does that matter?\u201d Olga became confused again.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course it does!\u201d the young man exclaimed. \u201cIt\u2019s often windy around here, and I could catch them, and in gratitude offer you walks along the embankment. Then I\u2019d have a real chance to get to know you. At the very least, I\u2019m not about to miss the first opportunity to show my gratitude.\u201d He bowed courteously. \u201cI\u2019m Ivan.\u201d<\/p>\n
All of Olga\u2019s collection of hats for making acquaintances, it turned out, wasn\u2019t necessary. On that very first evening, she realized that she had fallen in love with this energetic, cheerful, yet somehow down-to-earth guy. He was a local, worked in the merchant fleet, and seemed himself steeped in salty spray, bright sunshine, and fresh breezes. For Olga, a homebody on her first independent vacation, this sudden feeling both thrilled and frightened her. Ivan seemed to her like the wind\u2014a wind she would never be able to contain within the cozy walls of a comfortable home with its small delights. And as yet, she had never known the grand life and, in truth, feared it. The vacation was coming to an end when, one quiet evening, as Ivan was seeing her off, he suddenly stopped by a bench and briefly said:<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s sit.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga felt the importance of the moment and, holding her breath, sat down on the bench.<\/p>\n
\u201cOlga, I won\u2019t beat around the bush,\u201d Ivan said, gazing somewhere deep into the park while nervously rubbing his hands. \u201cI\u2019m not strong with romantic words, nor do I know any lofty phrases. I\u2019ll ask it straight: will you go with me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga swallowed hard and froze, processing what she had just heard.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you silent?\u201d Ivan asked after a pause. \u201cAren\u2019t you attracted to a prince?\u201d<\/p>\n
The girl shook her head in denial.<\/p>\n
\u201cI feel like I\u2019m not cut out to be the wife of a sea wolf.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ivan laughed in relief.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s there to be cut out for? Do you think you\u2019ll have to knit ropes or scrub the deck? A sailor\u2019s wife only needs loyalty, patience, and an inner strength. Everything else is trivial.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never thought that I had any kind of strength,\u201d Olga admitted honestly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou do. I\u2019ve been beaten by life and seen much. The very fact that you grew up in this world of pragmatism and calculation, yet still recite \u2018I remember a wondrous moment,\u2019 speaks volumes. Your inner strength is different\u2014flexible and durable, like a Manila rope.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga sighed and buried her face in his chest, feeling his heart beat loudly and steadily.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood thing you\u2019re without your hat\u2014otherwise it would have been crushed,\u201d Ivan joked, kissing her wind-tousled hair.<\/p>\n
The wedding was modest. Olga had only her grandmother and a couple of friends, and Ivan had his elderly mother and a few friends from the fleet. But everything felt heartfelt, homely, without unnecessary noise or pomp.<\/p>\n
After the wedding, seeing how much Olga suffered in separation, Ivan switched to short trips so he could be home more often. He rightly believed that no amount of money would be earned anyway, and that a family required care and attention at least as much, if not more. Olga was endlessly happy with this decision. Furs and jewels had never tempted her, but the opportunity to see her beloved Vanya more often was true happiness. Ivan didn\u2019t delay fatherhood either, and in less than a year, the voices of twins filled their apartment: deep-voiced Semyon and slightly thinner Volodya. Olga was overwhelmed trying to handle the twins, but after the difficult childbirth, it was a struggle. Ivan persuaded his bosses to let him use up his accumulated vacation days to help his wife. In short, they lived together in harmony and happiness. Neither of them had been spoiled by life, neither suffered from whims or exorbitant demands, and most importantly\u2014they truly loved each other.<\/p>\n
Almost seven blissful years passed. The first real cloud appeared on their family horizon the day when Volodya and Semyon, fastening their school bags, ran off to school feeling entirely grown-up\u2014they had been first graders for a week. Olga stayed behind waiting for Ivan, who was supposed to return from a voyage. Her heart was uneasy. Her husband\u2019s voice over the phone sounded tense and joyless, but it was awkward to ask, so she could only wait.<\/p>\n
Contrary to habit, Ivan opened the door himself, and that became the first ominous sign. Usually, he adored greeting his wife with a hug at the doorway and the joyful shrieks of his boys running to him. Olga cautiously stepped into the hallway and shuddered: Ivan looked as if he had aged ten years. His face was drawn, and his gaze\u2014gloomy.<\/p>\n
\u201cVanya, are you sick?\u201d she blurted out, the first thought that came to mind.<\/p>\n
Ivan dropped his heavy bags onto the floor, pulled his wife into his arms, and said in a muffled tone:<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m fine, I\u2019m fine. But something terrible has happened. Sit down, mother, this conversation is going to be serious.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga, for the first time hearing her husband address her as \u201cmother\u201d and seeing him in such a state, quietly sank onto a stool, holding her breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarcello is dead. Along with his wife. They were buried yesterday. Mila and Tim are now orphans. That\u2019s the way it is, Olga.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga was stunned. Marcello, jovial and curly-haired, had been Ivan\u2019s best friend and the best man at their wedding. His wife, Iya, calm and imperturbable, had always kept his emotional outbursts in check\u2014so much so that he jokingly called her \u201cmy breaker of waves.\u201d And now they were both gone? It was impossible to believe. And what about the children? Mila was a year older than the boys, and Tim\u2014a year younger. How harmoniously they used to play together when the families met!<\/p>\n
Ivan cast a brief glance at his pale wife and continued:<\/p>\n
\u201cThey burned, Olga. At a country house. Marcello decided to add more gasoline, and the can was plastic. Self-ignition. Iya ran to him, and then\u2026 In short, everything caught fire. It\u2019s good that Mila and Tim went off to play with the neighboring children. Now their fate is undecided. With Mark, you know, he had no one left\u2014he was the last child. And Iya\u2026,\u201d Ivan waved his hand dismissively, \u201cher father and brother are utterly useless. They\u2019re drowning in grief. Twice over. Whatever they were drowning in before, it\u2019s hard to say. In short, they don\u2019t care about the children. The state, they say, will sort it out on its own. And the state\u2014that\u2019s what? A children\u2019s home, Olga.\u201d He struck the table with his fist in annoyance.<\/p>\n
A fork, which had jumped from a plate, clattered in fear, and a heavy, lingering silence hung in the air.<\/p>\n
Olga was the first to break the silence. Through sobs, wiping away her tears, she said softly but firmly:<\/p>\n
\u201cVanya, even in war, people took away children who weren\u2019t their own. And what, are we supposed to have it worse?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ivan looked up, and in his eyes flickered pain, joy, gratitude, and something else that made Olga immediately understand: he himself had really wanted this but hadn\u2019t dared to propose it. In the next second, he embraced his wife and, kissing her, whispered:<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll get through this, Olga. I\u2019ll do anything for that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thus began a new chapter in their lives. There were plenty of hardships. Mila and Tim, traumatized by grief, struggled to adjust to the new circumstances. Olga often heard their sniffling in the nights. And Semyon with Volodya, at first, felt out of place, unsure how to behave in such a situation. Olga was like a squirrel on a wheel, trying to comfort, caress, and manage everything around the house. Ivan, returning from his voyages, helped as much as he could. Gradually, everything began to settle, but Olga started noticing a stubborn wrinkle appearing more and more often between her husband\u2019s brows. That could only mean one thing: he was pondering some important decision. She knew that in such cases it was best not to pry\u2014he would speak when he was ready.<\/p>\n
After a while, Ivan \u201cripened.\u201d One evening, while helping his wife tidy up the room after a boisterous play session, he sat down on the sofa with a plush bear in his hands and, stroking its fur, said:<\/p>\n
\u201cOlga, I\u2019m going on a long voyage.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga\u2019s heart skipped a beat.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? You switched to short trips just so you could be with us more often.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOlga, it has to be this way. The children mustn\u2019t have it worse than others. Mila needs English, and Volodya wants to learn the guitar. Semyon and Tim also need to engage in something. Besides, they need clothes\u2014they\u2019re growing like weeds. I\u2019ll go just once, then we\u2019ll try to return to short trips. Can you manage?\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga could only sigh. She already knew that if Ivan had made up his mind, arguing was futile.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll manage. But\u2026 I see that you\u2019ve already decided. Yet if there\u2019s even the slightest chance you might change your mind, please, reconsider. We\u2019re not living in poverty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOlga, I\u2019ll stay in touch as much as possible. It\u2019s not the first time, after all. Before our wedding, I often went on such voyages.\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga clung to Ivan, struggling to hold back her tears.<\/p>\n
The days of separation dragged on painfully. To somehow ease the wait, Olga would cross off each day on the calendar, marking how the distance to that cherished date was shortening. The children missed him too\u2014they grew quieter, trying to help around the house. Finally, the long voyage came to an end. Ivan\u2019s joyful voice announced that he was boarding a train and would be home by morning. Olga rushed to the kitchen to prepare his favorite dishes, and the children began cleaning up. But neither in the morning, nor in the evening, nor the next day did Ivan appear. The phone stubbornly declared that the line was unreachable. Frantic with worry, Olga ran between the train station and the police. The train had arrived, and the conductor confirmed that Ivan had indeed boarded a carriage. But where he had gotten off remained unknown. The police initially treated her worry with skepticism: \u201cJust wait, ma\u2019am, he\u2019ll go for a walk and come back. You know how sailors are\u2026\u201d After these words, Olga nearly hurled a heavy onyx ashtray at the sergeant, which had been sitting on the table. They pitied the loud woman and didn\u2019t press the issue, but after three days they finally took action.<\/p>\n
After some time, Olga was called in for identification. Although, to be honest, there was hardly anything to identify. In an abandoned house, they found a body of a man burned beyond recognition. In the corner of the room lay belongings similar to those Ivan used to wear. Olga, as if in a dream, slid her eyes over the charred remnants and stopped at a denim jacket with a condor embroidered on its back. There was no mistake. That jacket had been brought from Peru by the late Mark, and no one else in the vicinity had one like it.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs this your husband\u2019s jacket?\u201d came a creaking voice from somewhere afar.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Olga managed to reply before she lost consciousness.<\/p>\n
Wiping away her tears, Olga forcefully pushed away the memories. How long would she torment herself? Two years had passed. Life, though bitter, went on. She had to finish preparations for the morning performance and hurry to work. The head of the department, whom Olga privately called \u201cGorynych,\u201d wouldn\u2019t let her go again. And what did he want from her this time? The mother of four children? Although it was long clear what he meant. But the very thought of it made Olga feel disgusted. To betray Ivan\u2019s memory? And in such a humiliating manner? Never! She\u2019d rather endure his nitpicking.<\/p>\n
The children, in a noisy bunch, went off to the morning performance, and Olga rushed off to work, already late for her shift.<\/p>\n
Gorynych lived up to his nickname. Olga bumped into him right at the entrance of the department, as if he had been waiting for her on purpose.<\/p>\n
\u201cDiscipline, Koltsova, is an abstract concept for you,\u201d he began, his bald head gleaming. \u201cDo you think that by exploiting your status as a multichild widow you\u2019ll achieve a special position here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust don\u2019t let me cry,\u201d Olga thought and retorted heatedly:<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not expecting any special treatment, Igor Petrovich! I was just delayed because the children had a performance today while I was getting them ready. But it was only five minutes!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything starts from five minutes,\u201d Gorynych said, not intending to let up. \u201cFirst come discipline problems, then your duties. By the way, bring me the report on narcotic drugs.\u201d<\/p>\n
Abruptly turning on his heel, he strode into his office, and Olga, sighing, made her way back to her desk. Quickly changing her clothes and distributing the medicines as prescribed, she set off with a heavy heart to complete Gorynych\u2019s task. And why had he latched onto her? Yes, she was the head nurse, responsible for everything, but such orders hadn\u2019t been issued in a long time. She was even worried that the expiration dates on the drugs were nearing. Where was that log? Where had she put it? There it was! Olga opened the log, and the entries blurred before her eyes. Where from? How could there be such a massive write-off? She hadn\u2019t dispensed these medicines. And the handwriting\u2026 hers? Or no? Olga tried to concentrate. No, it wasn\u2019t her handwriting! Very similar, but with differences. The slant of the letters was neater, and the letter \u201ct\u201d was written with more weight. The same with the signature. With trembling hands, Olga opened the safe\u2026 And there it was! Everything had been neatly erased. She frantically flipped through the prescription sheets according to the list. Of course, there hadn\u2019t been any prescriptions for such a write-off. And then she became angry\u2014a rare occurrence. Grabbing the log, she headed to the head\u2019s office and decisively opened the door. Igor Petrovich pretended not to notice her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t provide the report on narcotic drugs, Igor Petrovich, because there are forged entries in the log. Look!\u201d Olga\u2019s voice rang like metal as she slammed the open log onto the head\u2019s desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat nonsense are you spouting?\u201d Gorynych shifted into defense, unaccustomed to seeing his usually quiet subordinate in such a state.<\/p>\n
\u201cNonsense?\u201d Olga pressed on. \u201cWe haven\u2019t had any prescriptions for this group of drugs for a very long time. I was already preparing to write them off after their expiration date. And yet there are entries made in handwriting very similar to mine, but with clear differences. At least, that\u2019s what I see. And there are no prescriptions justifying these write-offs!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you\u2019re saying there are none?\u201d Gorynych regained his composure and advanced. \u201cDo you even hear yourself? What, have you been reading detective novels? Forged handwriting! You yourself abused your official position, committed a crime, and now you\u2019re performing a comedy for me? I\u2019ll have you arrested!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cArrest me!\u201d Olga was not about to give in. \u201cAnd in the process of the investigation, I will request a handwriting analysis. I even know an expert\u2014I once dealt with him in the case of my late husband!\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mention of a known expert was, of course, a pure lie, but Olga decided that in wartime, all means were fair.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, please tell me, we have connections everywhere!\u201d the expert remark clearly irked the head. \u201cDon\u2019t think too highly of yourself! For starters, I\u2019m suspending you from work and ordering an internal investigation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo it!\u201d Olga\u2019s face blazed. \u201cBut if the investigation\u2019s results aren\u2019t objective, I\u2019ll go to the police myself!\u201d And, slamming the ill-fated log on the table, she stormed out of the office.<\/p>\n
Olga broke down in tears in her own office, having closed the door behind her. Who? Who had set her up so treacherously? It was clear that Gorynych was in on it, and likely a part of it himself. But it had to have been written by one of his own people. And she never carelessly scattered her keys. Even if she lent them temporarily, she always checked afterwards. God! She hadn\u2019t checked the safe after her sick leave, when little Mila had the flu. Then she had to take time off because of complications, and on the day of her return it was the anniversary of Vanya\u2019s death. Oh, foolish woman! What a fool she was! What would happen to the children if Gorynych really had her arrested? Oh, dear, what is a mother to do now?<\/p>\n
The door\u2019s handle turned slowly. Olga tensed, intending not to open it, but then the phone rang, displaying Svetka\u2019s number. Svetka was Olga\u2019s only friend in this department, despite their complicated relationship. Although people gossiped behind her back that she befriended the head nurse for selfish reasons, Olga knew it was simply envy. She answered the call.<\/p>\n
\u201cOlga, open up\u2014I know you\u2019re in there. I have some information about the case,\u201d Svetka\u2019s voice came from beyond the door.<\/p>\n
Olga realized that her resourceful friend was already aware of what was happening, and headed for the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, don\u2019t panic. It\u2019s not all that bad,\u201d Svetka began as she stepped inside.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs everyone already talking?\u201d Olga asked, wiping away smudged makeup with a handkerchief.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course! You were practically screaming in his office like a victim. Although, why \u2018like\u2019\u2014you are the victim. The whole point is that he clearly didn\u2019t expect such a scandal. He must have been planning to gradually catch you with some compromising evidence, put poor Mashka in your place, and demote you to just a nurse and his secret mistress. He can\u2019t stand refusals\u2014everything has to go his way. And here you are, not agreeing to either. And Mashka agrees to everything. What\u2019s there to think about?\u201d<\/p>\n
The phone vibrated again. This time it was Gorynych calling.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome in!\u201d he ordered curtly into the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, with God!\u201d Svetka said to her friend with a dismissive gesture. \u201cAnd don\u2019t lose face!\u201d<\/p>\n
Olga\u2019s face turned to stone. With that expression, she headed toward the head of department.<\/p>\n
Everything happened just as Svetka had predicted. Olga was generously offered the chance to write a mutual separation statement, vanish from the clinic by the end of the day, and be grateful to Igor Petrovich for his \u201cunspeakable kindness\u201d for the rest of his life. The only thing Svetka hadn\u2019t foreseen was the warning not to go near any other medical institution. The threat was real. Igor Petrovich had enough connections in the city, and arranging for Olga to be absolved in a way that suited him was as simple as spitting.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell then, they say that changing one\u2019s occupation is beneficial\u2014it reduces the risk of Alzheimer\u2019s,\u201d Olga retorted coolly and slammed the office door behind her.<\/p>\n
The next morning, as she saw the children off to school, Olga felt an odd emptiness. She didn\u2019t feel like doing anything, didn\u2019t want to go anywhere. How would she search for a job, and what kind? The employment center? There, they\u2019d first offer a job in her specialty. The Internet? In their small town, vacancies were scarce. An unfamiliar numbness paralyzed her, hindering her thoughts and actions. She just wanted to curl up in some hole far away from this world with its filth, sorrow, and despicable ways that she couldn\u2019t accept. After sitting like that for about an hour, she remembered that she hadn\u2019t delivered the joint pain tincture she\u2019d prepared for her neighbor, Samvel. Samvel suffered from knee pain and insisted that no over-the-counter remedies helped him as well as her tincture. But Samvel wasn\u2019t home. He ran a caf\u00e9 not far from his house and often disappeared there, rightly believing that without the boss\u2019s watchful eye, nothing would get done. She didn\u2019t feel like going home. Standing by the closed door, Olga turned and headed to Samvel\u2019s caf\u00e9.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Olga-jan, come on in! I wasn\u2019t expecting you. Have a seat\u2014I\u2019ll bring some stew that\u2019ll make your fingers lick clean. And why so gloomy, not at work? What happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
The owner\u2019s smile was sincere, and his large brown eyes looked so keen and compassionate that Olga couldn\u2019t help but, between sobs, recount her story from the previous day\u2014omitting the dangerous details.<\/p>\n
\u201cA dog!\u201d Samvel\u2019s face turned stern. \u201cThe master of life, huh? Work or don\u2019t work! He\u2019ll get what\u2019s coming to him, the world is round, but that\u2019s beside the point. You shouldn\u2019t be sitting at home all day, you\u2019ll break down, lose heart. Too much sorrow\u2014it can weigh you down like a stone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t think straight right now,\u201d Olga admitted between sobs. \u201cI feel frozen. To be honest, I feel numb. Not a single thought in my head.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t need thoughts,\u201d Samvel\u2019s eyes flashed with a spark. \u201cYou know what? Come help me in the kitchen tomorrow. Vera has been pestering me with complaints: too many dishes, too many dishes. If you can\u2019t think, then don\u2019t! Use my dishes\u2014there\u2019s no time for thinking here. Once you start thinking, you\u2019ll go look for a job. And mark my words\u2014I won\u2019t take any excuses. If you don\u2019t come, I\u2019ll drag you by the hand. You understand, Olga-jan?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand,\u201d Olga managed a weak smile. \u201cI just feel like curling up in a hole. I think I\u2019ve found one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, remember the tale of Thumbelina? After the mouse hole, the heroine ended up in the land of the elves. Maybe you\u2019ll end up there too, Olga-jan?\u201d Samvel teased slyly, pleased with his joke.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right, Samvel, that\u2019s probably the best option for now,\u201d Olga agreed. \u201cI\u2019ll finish up the laundry and cleaning, and tomorrow I\u2019ll be at work.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be waiting,\u201d Samvel said with a playful threat.<\/p>\n
Thus began a new chapter in Olga\u2019s life. The work wasn\u2019t easy, and Samvel couldn\u2019t pay much, but the fear of human treachery\u2014sparked by the incident at the clinic\u2014slowly began to subside. Necessity, of course, made itself known, but Olga, gritting her teeth, managed to pull through.<\/p>\n
One day, Samvel, winking conspiratorially, beckoned Olga into his little room\u2014proudly dubbed \u201cthe office\u201d\u2014and laid a sheet of paper on the table with an address and phone numbers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d Olga asked, surprised.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is your chance, baby. The address of a very rich, albeit not young, man. A simple story: his health failed him, his children are abroad, and he\u2019s lost most of his relatives. He needs a live-in caregiver and nurse rolled into one. His previous one left\u2014something happened with the relatives. Tomorrow at ten he\u2019ll be waiting for you. You\u2019re not going to wash dishes all your life.\u201d<\/p>\n
The meeting with the new boss went well. Vsevolod Savelyevich turned out to be an educated and well-mannered man, though with a fair share of snobbery. Upon hearing his offhand remark about women who \u201cgive birth to a bunch of children, then don\u2019t know how to feed them and make demands of the state,\u201d Olga was glad she hadn\u2019t mentioned her own family, and decided to remain quiet about herself. The patient was not fussy and endured all procedures patiently, but Olga was troubled that the exquisite breakfasts and lunches were ending up almost untouched in the kitchen. Vsevolod Savelyevich had no appetite at all.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s miserable without work and without his family,\u201d explained Anaid Karenovna, the housekeeper and distant relative of Samvel, as she gently touched Olga\u2019s hand after noticing with a knowing look how sadly Olga watched the untouched dishes, which were then thrown out as trash.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake whatever Vsevolod Savelyevich rejects for breakfast and lunch for the children. He wants three menu options in case his appetite returns. But his appetite stubbornly chooses only dried fruits and nuts. Why let good food go to waste?\u201d<\/p>\n
Slightly blushing, Olga nodded.<\/p>\n
She got along well with her employer. He tolerated the medical procedures patiently and even joked, though his jokes were laced with sarcasm and bitter irony. But Olga understood it all: a pile of money means \u201cI don\u2019t want to live,\u201d yet poor health and children far away leave no choice. And he didn\u2019t have a wife\u2014she had died, and he didn\u2019t want to take on a younger one.<\/p>\n
\u201cA wife?\u201d he once remarked casually. \u201cI still want to live a little. Who needs an old wreck like me? But my money\u2014now that\u2019s a different matter. It\u2019s far easier to use money in the form of an inheritance\u2014you don\u2019t have to report to an aging dodderer. I used to read the tale of the Golden Cockerel well as a child. Young wives only shorten one\u2019s life.\u201d He completely avoided the topic of children. Even the all-knowing Anaid Karenovna didn\u2019t seem fully informed about the details of that alienation. Vsevolod Savelyevich clearly lacked something to reignite his former zest for life. The only thing that kept him somewhat occupied was constantly improving his home. He was always updating, adding to, and enhancing it. It seemed that the house had become this solitary man\u2019s fortress, his creation, the meaning of his transformed life. He always eagerly discussed these topics. In every detail, Olga knew about the advantages of eco-materials for the renovated veranda and the plans for upgrading the surveillance system. Secretly, she was glad that the workers bustling around the house somehow revived the atmosphere.<\/p>\n
\u201cToday I\u2019m going to test the new cameras,\u201d Vsevolod Savelyevich announced one day with pleasure, patiently waiting for Olga to find a fragile vein for the IV drip. \u201cI\u2019m going to watch a movie about my own house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe important thing is that you enjoy it,\u201d Olga replied with a smile, unaware of the consequences that this screening would later have.<\/p>\n
After finishing all the procedures, she habitually gathered the three-menu dishes\u2014still untouched in the containers\u2014unaware that the kitchen was being reflected on the monitor in the employer\u2019s room at that very moment. With a light heart and a clear conscience, she headed home. Vsevolod Savelyevich, however, upon seeing this, was outraged.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell is this?\u201d he exclaimed aloud, taking in the scene. \u201cI\u2019m paying her a good sum, and she\u2019s even hauling food from the kitchen! What are these plebeian manners? Is she hungry? She can\u2019t possibly be hungry on such a salary. What don\u2019t I know about her? It\u2019s bad when you don\u2019t know something about the person who daily taps your vein. Investigate? She\u2019d lie. Ask Anaid? Ah, those women, they\u2019re all the same. Stop! I have Jack Sparrow! She couldn\u2019t see him; she doesn\u2019t go to that wing.\u201d<\/p>\n
The next day, Olga dutifully carried out her responsibilities. Vsevolod Savelyevich was notably quieter and more restrained than usual that day, but accustomed as she was to his mood swings, she paid it no heed.<\/p>\n
In the evening, on her way home, Olga suddenly heard the screech of brakes and the driver\u2019s curses. Turning around, she saw that a man\u2014apparently someone who hadn\u2019t quite managed to dodge the vehicle\u2014was slowly getting up off the ground.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you need help?\u201d she rushed over to the injured man. He lifted his eyes, and Olga recoiled. The reason was not the huge crimson scar on his forehead, but his face. It was Ivan\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
\u201cVsevolod Savelyevich, please tell me everything. He remembers very little\u2014perhaps you know more,\u201d Olga pleaded the next day through tears to her patient, who was utterly shaken by her story.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy dear, I\u2019ll add a few details to what you\u2019ve already been told. Your\u2026 um\u2026 Ivan came to me under rather unusual circumstances. You, as a medic, should know that in their quest for recovery, people don\u2019t only go to hospitals. I\u2019m no exception. I was once advised about a family of herbalists who lived in seclusion. It was a husband and wife who possessed quite effective folk remedies. I visited them for a long time, and by the end of the treatment, they asked me to arrange something for a guy who was once found unconscious on a railway embankment\u2014without money, without documents, and nearly naked. It was impossible to call an ambulance\u2014there was no mobile signal in that remote area, so they brought him to their place. They say he was beaten badly, his head severely injured. But somehow they managed to get him on his feet. And here was the hitch: it turned out he remembered very little. He recalled that he had a wife, children, and he remembered the sea. A lot of sea. Sparse, wouldn\u2019t you say? The official authorities didn\u2019t trust his spouse, fearing, firstly, their dishonesty, and secondly, that the man might have a rather checkered past. I understood their concerns and saw no reason not to take him in as a boarder. He made a good impression, and I needed someone for minor errands in my situation. He couldn\u2019t remember his own name, so I nicknamed him Jack Sparrow due to his clear attraction to the sea. And that\u2019s all. And did he recognize you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, he did. Only he doesn\u2019t remember my name\u2014only that I\u2019m his wife, and that\u2019s it. I was afraid to show him the children, lest the shock worsen their condition. I can vouch that he\u2019s no criminal. He was most likely robbed\u2014after all, he was returning from a voyage\u2014and was thrown off the train. I just can\u2019t figure out whom I ended up burying in place of Ivan.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEither the robber himself or the fence who deals in stolen goods,\u201d Vsevolod Savelyevich shrugged. \u201cAnd the police had to close the case quickly\u2014they didn\u2019t even conduct a DNA test. They closed both cases immediately: yours and that of the unknown man burned in the abandoned house. And everyone\u2019s happy, except you, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow is that even possible?\u201d Olga covered her face with her hands. \u201cI might never have found him!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, they did find him,\u201d Vsevolod Savelyevich said, not inclined to rhetorical questions. \u201cYou know what we\u2019ll do, my dear? Since your husband is a victim and not a criminal element, we will work on restoring, firstly, his memory, and secondly, his civil rights. I have connections at the neurology institute; they\u2019ll take care of it there. And you, my secretive one, please bring the children here so that they can eat properly and be with their parent. I think that will expedite the process.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you doing all this for us?\u201d Olga couldn\u2019t hide her astonishment.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, for one, decorating my house no longer amuses me. Secondly, your mutual relationship and your life stance, I think, will keep me from turning into a complete misanthrope. And thirdly\u2026 this morning at breakfast, only two dishes remained untouched, not all three.\u201d And, cutting off any further expressions of gratitude, Vsevolod Savelyevich left with dignity.<\/p>\n
Six months later, on that very embankment where the vagabond wind had once swept away the fateful hat, sat an older, imposing man in a linen suit with a cane in his hand. Next to him sat a young woman, holding back her chestnut curls that danced in the wind. She looked at the young man, who was tossing small stones across the water with four little ones, explaining that this game was called \u201cmaking pancakes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust as it was on the day we met: wind, sunset, and back then Vanya was fishing,\u201d the woman smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course\u2014back then he didn\u2019t have four little rascals,\u201d the older man smiled slightly. \u201cLet him frolic; soon he\u2019ll have to step up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d the woman asked, alarmed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean that now that his body has recovered, it\u2019s time to give it some exercise before it gets too used to idleness. Remember, in this life, you either move forward or backward\u2014there is no standstill. He\u2019s in pretty good shape now; it\u2019s time to start involving him in my affairs. He can\u2019t be sneaking around in the hold anymore, and among the managers there are plenty of swindlers. I want to find in him a rare exception\u2014a stroke of luck. Come, girl, let\u2019s go to the water. I used to \u2018make pancakes\u2019 magnificently; I need to check if I still can.\u201d<\/p>\n
With those words, the man rose, leaning on his cane, and, accompanied by the woman, began his leisurely walk toward the water.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Olga was ironing the children\u2019s clothes, occasionally brushing away the tears that welled up. The tears were utterly pointless\u2014after all, there was less than an hour left… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":23348,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-23346","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n