З життя
Мати сину: “Твоя дружина псує всі наші свята
— Твоя дружина зіпсувала нам усі свята, — промовила синові мати.
— Соломія запрошує нас усіх завтра зустрітися в ресторані чи кав’ярні, — радісно повідомив матері по відеодзвінку Андрій.
— Добра ідея, але нехай вона сама заздалегідь обере місце, щоб знову не міняти локацію під час замовлення, — спокійно попросила синка Галина Миколаївна.
— Ми вже вибрали, не хвилюйся. У нас на Личакові відкрилася нова закладина, завтра її й перевіримо, — безтурботно тараторив Андрій.
— Нова… Ну добре, надішли адресу й напиши, о котрій ми з батьком прийдемо, — з покорою погодилася жінка.
— Вважай, що вже відправив, — відрізав чоловік і завершив дзвінок.
Незабаром вона отримала повідомлення з деталями. У Галини Миколаївни було дві невістки та зять, із усіма вона ладнала, окрім із Соломією.
Свекруха не втручалася у життя снохи, не нав’язувала порад, наоборот — уникала спілкування.
Справа була в тому, що дівчина не вміла поводитися за столом і не мала жодного відчуття такту.
Кілька місяців тому родина збиралася в ресторані, і замість насолоди їжею та розмовами всі слухали нарікання Соломії.
То страва не подобалася, то офіціант не посміхнувся, то меню — нудне. Через останнє їм довелося тричі за вечір міняти заклад.
Але й там дівчина знайшла причину для нарікань. Вона замовила салат і попросила не додавати цибулю.
— Ваш салат, як ви й хотіли, без цибулі, — поставив тарілку перед нею офіціант.
— А це що тут лежить? — з незадоволеним виглядом показала вона на гілочку кропу.
— Це для прикраси, — відповів юнак.
— А я просила додавати його? — надула губи сноха.
— Якщо бажаєте, заберу, — запропонував він.
— Заберіть весь салат, апетит мій зіпсували… Принесіть мій молочний коктейль, — гордовито відвернулася до вікна Соломія.
Персонал виконав її вимоги, але атмосфера вечора була вже отруєна. Сноха сиділа надутою, поки родичі їли й сміялися. Сходити з нею до ресторану було катуванням.
Навіть родинні посиденьки не обходилися без історій. Її вибрики руйнували будь-яке свято.
Навіть на поминках тітки Андрія дівчина вдала до скандалу.
— Хто готував ці млинці? Вони ж гумові! — скрикнула вона на весь дім.
— Донечко, не обов’язково кричати, просто не їж їх, — намагалася вгамувати її Галина Миколаївна, помітивши осудливі погляди родичів.
— А що тут тоді їсти? Я своїй собаці краще готую! Горілка та сік теж пальові, — брезгливо скривилася Соломія.
— Ми прийшли пом’янути людину, тож будь ласка, ввічлива, — прошепотіла свекруха.
— От і пом’янули… Нічим навіть пом’янути, — буркнула та відійшла.
Здавалося, інцидент забувся, але неті…
Пізніше Галині Миколаївні дзвонили родичі, розповідаючи, як сноха скаржилася їм на їжу. Жінці було соромно, і вона вирішила більше не запрошувати Соломію на події.
Наближався день народження свекрухи, але, знаючи, що сноха прийде, вона відклала свято.
Галина Миколаївна чекала, доки Андрій поїде у відрядження. Як тільки син подзвонив із Чернівців, вона розіслала запрошення дітям.
Сноху, звісно, ніхто не повідомив. Свято пройшло ідеально: ні скарг, ні образ. Вперше за два роки жінка відчула справжню радість.
Та вже наступного дня хтось із гостей опублікував світлини у соцмережах. Соломія побачила.
— Алло, Галино Миколаївно, ви святкували день народження? — почулася у трубці образа.
— Так, куди вже далі відкладати, — не заперечувала жінка.
— Чому мене не запросили?
— Андрій був у відрядженні, тобі самій було б нудно…
— Мені з вами ніколи не нудно! Чому не дочекалися його? — підозріло допитувалася сноха.
— Бо дружина твоя всі свята своїм кислим виглядом псує! — вирвалося у Галини Миколаївни.
— Що?! Це я псую? А ви — гадюка! — Соломія кинула трубку.
Через кілька годин Андрій лаяв матір:
— Чому ти так до моєї дружини? Що ми тобі зробили?
— Нічого. Але вона постійно руйнує свята, а ти не ставиш її на місце, — відверто сказала жінка.
— Як саме вона руйнує? — здивувався син.
— Скаргами й примхами. З нею неможливо ні в ресторані, ні вдома!
— Вона просто відверта, на відміну від вас!
— Відвертість і невихованість — різне. Хоче бути мені, як донька, — нехай поводиться гідно!
— Добре, я поговорю з нею. Але ти обіцяй завжди запрошувати її, — запропонував Андрій.
— Гаразд, але лише під твою відповідальність, — зітхнула Галина Миколаївна.
Соломія не змінилася. Вона намагалася стримуватися, але марно. Свекруха вирішила не звертати уваги. Сваритися з сином вона більше не хотіла — обрала менше зло.
Is the Orchid Really to Blame? “Polly, take this orchid or I’m throwing it out,” Kate said, carelessly picking up the clear pot from the windowsill and handing it to me. “Thanks, Kate! But what’s wrong with this orchid?” I was surprised. After all, three more gorgeous, well-tended orchids stood in her window. “It was a wedding gift for my son. And you know how that all ended,” Kate sighed heavily. “I know your Denis got divorced before their first anniversary. I won’t ask why—I bet it was a serious reason. Denis adored Tanya,” I said gently, not wanting to reopen a fresh wound. “I’ll tell you the full story one day, Polly. For now, it’s just too much,” Kate said, getting a bit teary. I brought the “banished” and “rejected” orchid home. My husband looked sympathetically at the wilting plant. “Why do you want that poor thing? There’s no life in it. Even I can see that. Don’t waste your time,” he insisted. “I want to revive it. Give it some love and care. You’ll see—soon you’ll be impressed by this orchid!” I replied, determined to breathe life back into the drooping flower. He winked playfully: “Who ever turns down a bit of love?” A week later, Kate called: “Polly, can I come over? I can’t keep this bottled up anymore. I want to tell you everything about Denis’s failed marriage.” “Of course, Kate. I’m here whenever you need me,” I assured her—remembering how she’d supported me through two rocky marriages of my own… After all, we’d been friends for years. Kate arrived within the hour, settled in the kitchen, and for hours, over a glass of dry wine, a mug of coffee, and some dark chocolate, she shared the whole, tangled tale. “I never imagined my ex-daughter-in-law was capable of such things. Denis and Tanya were together for seven years. Denis left Annie—who I adored, by the way—for Tanya, who was just stunning. He was absolutely besotted, following her around like a lovesick puppy. Tanya looked like a model—men couldn’t help but stare. But for all those years, they never had a child. I figured Denis wanted everything by the book—get married, then have kids. Denis is private, and we never pried. Finally, Denis told us: ‘Mum, Dad, I’m marrying Tanya. We’ve booked the registry office. I’m throwing a huge wedding—no expense spared.’ He was thirty. We were thrilled that he’d finally settle down. But, Polly, the wedding date had to be postponed twice—once Denis got sick, then I was held up at work. It felt odd, but Denis was glowing with happiness—I didn’t say anything. Denis even wanted to have a church wedding with Father Christopher, but the priest was called back to his home parish. Nothing was going smoothly. It seemed like the world was warning us… The wedding was spectacular, noisy, extravagant. Here—look at the wedding photo. You see that orchid? Glorious, in full bloom. Its leaves stood tall like soldiers. And now? Just limp rags remain of it. …Denis and Tanya planned their honeymoon in Paris, but right at the airport, Tanya was barred from leaving the country—something about an unpaid fine. Denis swatted away these troubles like flies. …But then Denis got seriously ill. Ended up in hospital, things looked grim. Doctors were at a loss. Tanya visited for a week, then bluntly told him: ‘Sorry, but I can’t handle being married to an invalid. I’m filing for divorce.’ Polly, imagine my son—bedridden—hearing that. But he only said: ‘I understand, Tanya. I won’t fight you.’ So they divorced. But Denis got better—thanks to a wonderful doctor named Peter. And Peter had a lovely 20-year-old daughter, Mary. At first, Denis turned up his nose: ‘She’s just a slip of a girl—not even pretty.’ ‘Give her a chance, son. Looks aren’t everything. You’ve already had a model for a wife…Better to be happy drinking water together than sipping honey in sorrow.’ …Time passed. Mary totally fell for Denis—called all the time, trailed after him everywhere. So we tried nudging them together—day at the park, barbecue, campfire. Denis looked miserable, barely noticing Mary’s devotion. I told my husband: ‘It’s hopeless. Denis is still obsessed with Tanya. She’s a thorn in his heart.’ …Three or four months later—ding dong! It’s Denis, holding that infamous orchid. ‘Here you go, Mum—remnants of past happiness. Do as you like with it—I’m done with it.’ I took it reluctantly and basically ignored it, blaming the poor flower for my son’s heartbreak. One day, a neighbour says: ‘Kate, I saw Denis with that petite girl. His ex-wife was more glamorous, for sure.’ But then Denis announced, hand-in-hand with Mary: ‘Meet my wife—Mary. We got married quietly at the registry office, then Father Christopher married us in church. Mum, Dad, no big fuss this time! It’s forever now.’ I pulled him aside: ‘Denis, are you sure you love her? Is this for revenge against Tanya?’ ‘No, Mum. I’m over it. That woman is my past—I’m done even saying her name. Mary and I are right for each other.’ And that’s the tale, Polly. Kate finished her story, right down to the last detail. …Two years passed. Life swept us along. But the orchid? It flourished again—blooming beautifully after care and love. Flowers know how to say thank you. I met Kate at the hospital maternity ward: ‘Hi, mate! What brings you here?’ ‘Mary just had twins—being discharged today!’ Kate beamed. Denis and his dad hovered nearby, Denis clutching red roses. Out came exhausted but glowing Mary, with two sleeping bundles in tow. Then came my daughter, holding my own new granddaughter. Meanwhile, Tanya was begging Denis for forgiveness and a fresh start. …But glue a broken teacup, and no one really wants to drink from it…
IS THE ORCHID TO BLAME? Emily, take this orchid with you or Im throwing it in the bin, Kate said,...
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