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Тіні минулого: драматична правда в малому селі

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**Тіні минулого: правда у селі Вербівка**

Олег захворів. Він приїхав до бабусі в село Вербівка, де повітря було насичене ароматами трав і спогадами дитинства. Ліжачи на старій ліжку, він сумно поглянув на бабусю Марію Іванівну.

— Добре, що ти в мене є, ба, — тихо промовив він. — Один я на світі. Може, нікому й не потрібен?

— Що ти мелеш, Олеже, з глузду з’їхав?! — скрикнула бабуся, розводячи руками. — Такий гарний чоловік — і не потрібен? Так будь-яка жінка за тебе руками й ногами бігтиме! Лежи, не вставай, а я до сусідки за липовим медом сходжу…

Марія Іванівна, похитавши головою, вийшла. Олег заплющив очі, поринаючи у тривожний сон. Раптом скрипнули двері, і легкі кроки порушили тишу.

— Ба, це ти? — Олег відкрив очі й різко сів, не вірячи власним очам.

Олег поспішав до бабусі у Вербівку. Останні роки він узяв на себе всі турботи про неї. Батьки були зайняті: батько все ще працював на заводі, а мати годинами пропадала на городі, доглядаючи за квітами. До бабусі вона навідувалася лише раз на місяць.

— Я ж у нас найвільніший, — усміхався Олег. — Родини ще не завів, хоча вже й тридцять вісім минуло. А ви десь у справах, чи з ремонтом.

— Бабуся тебе обожнює, — відповідала мати. — Знає, що й продукти привезеш, і по господарству допоможеш, і вихідні з нею проведеш.

— Так, люблю я її, — тепло згадував Олег. — Дитиною тут щоліта бігав, а потім служба, робота, заробітки… Час віддавати борги.

— Борги боргами, а коли ти одружишся? — не вгавала мати. — Вже пора, сину, дітей заводити, а то й сам залишишся.

Олег їхав ґрунтовою дорогою, у багажнику хиталися пакети. Думки перенеслися у юність, коли в сусідньому селі Калинівка він закохався у дівчину — просту, але таку рідну. Оксана була мовчазною, з виразними очима, які видавали її почуття. Їхні літні побачення були повні пристрасті й ніжності.

— Шкода, що все скінчилося, — зітхнув Олег. — Я пішов на службу, а у неї, виявилося, був інший — той, що повернувся із заробітків та влаштував їй сцену на всі село…

На узбіччі він помітив дівчину, яка «голосувала». Олег пригальмував.

— До Калинівки підвезете? — спитала вона, відкинувши темну чубку.

— Сідай, — кивнув він.

Дорогою Олег украдкві поглядав на попутницю. Щось у її рисі здавалося знайомим.

— Ти місцева, чи в гості? — запитав він.

— Додому, — відповіла дівчина. — Іспити в медколеджі здала, тепер відпочиватиму. Та де в селі відпочинок — одна праця. Але вдома добре, мама чекає.

Вона усміхнулась, і Олега ніби струсонуло — ця усмішка була точнісінько як у Оксани!

— А ти часом не Оксанина дочка? — обережно спитав він.

— Я Марія Коваль, — відповіла вона. — Мама до шлюбу була Оксана Шевченко.

— А, точно, — Олег почув, як закалатало серце. — Я про твою маму й питав.

— Ви знали її? — здивувалася дівчина.

— Бачив колись, — ухилився він, помітивши на її щоці родимку — таку, як у нього.

— Скільки тобі років? — спитав він, намагаючись казати ніби ненароком.

— Незабаром вісімнадцять, — засміялась вона. — Хоч і виглядаю молодше.

— Це мине, — відповів Олег, зупиняючи авто. — Мабуть, схожа на маму?

— Швидше на батька, — серйозно сказала дівчина, виходячи. — Та його доля нещасливою була. Помер, коли мені було десять. Тепер ми з мамою удвох. Щастя, воно миттєве…

Вона помахала рукою й пішла додому. Олег довго дивився їй услід, спершись на кермо.

Бабуся одразу помітила його сум.

— Що з тобою, Олеже? Чи не захворів? Може, чаю з малиною?

— Ні, ба, усе гаразд. А де наш старий альбом із фотографіями? — раптом спитав він.

— У комоді, на веранді. А що таке?

— Спогади нахлинули, — відповів він.

Вони сіли переглядати альбом. Бабуся розповідала про сусідів, родичів. Коли Олег ненароком згадав Оксану, Марія Іванівна зітхнула.

— Після твого від’їзду вона швидко вийшла заміж за свого Петра. Він її любив, а ти ледь не зіпсував їм весілля, — усміхнулася бабуся. — Завжди був уважним до дівчат. А коли вже сам одружишся?

— А її чоловік, кажуть, помер? — обережно спитав Олег.

— Давно вже. Лихо велике… — бабуся подивилася на нього уважно й пішла на кухню.

Весь день Олег не знаходив собі місця. Дівчина, яку він підвіз, не виходила з голови. Родимка, усмішка, вік — усе сходилося. Чи могла вона бути його донькою? Серце стискалося від думки, що Оксана могла приховати правду. Він дорікав собі за те, що тоді, у юності, не боровся за неї, а просто втік.

Наступного ранку Олег сів у авто й поїхав до Калинівки. Оксана розвішувала білиОксана, побачивши його, завмерла на мить, а потім, кинувши білизню, несміливо посміхнулася — ніби минуле знову повернулося.

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The Carer for the Wife — What do you mean? — Lida thought she must have misheard. — Where am I supposed to go? Why? What for? — Oh, can we just skip the dramatics, please? — he grimaced. — What’s not clear here? There’s no one left for you to take care of. Where you go is none of my concern. — Ed, what’s wrong with you? Weren’t we planning to get married…? — That was your idea. I never said any such thing. At 32, Lida decided to turn her life around and leave her small hometown. What was left for her there? Endure her mother’s nagging? Her mother simply couldn’t stop scolding Lida about the divorce, constantly asking how she managed to “lose” her husband. Yet Vas’ka wasn’t worth a kind word—drunk and a womaniser! How did she end up marrying him all those eight years ago? Lida wasn’t at all upset about the divorce—in fact, she felt she could finally breathe again. But she argued constantly with her mum about it, and they also fought about money, which was always in short supply. 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