З життя
Мачеха? Не для меня!
Маше не хотелось идти домой. С утра отец обронил, что сегодня приведёт новую «невесту» — знакомить с ней. Опять придётся строить из себя пай-девочку, улыбаться впустую, лишь бы эта чужая осталась в их доме. Но Маша устала от этой вечной комедии.
После развода их квартира в Томске стала похожа на постоялый двор. Отец таскал одну «маму» за другой, и Маша порой жалела, что выбрала жить именно с ним. Мать же была холодна, как январь в Заполярье: для неё работа всегда была важнее всего. Маша росла под крылом бабушек, а мать только и знала, что ругать её за каждую мелочь. Любовь? Ласка? Об этом Маша могла лишь вздыхать.
Мать тянула семью, зарабатывала, но чего это стоило? Девочка думала: лучше бы та была просто матерью, а не дойной коровой. Когда брак рухнул, родители разошлись, будто сбросив камень с плеч. Каждый начал новую жизнь, а Маша осталась ни при чём — никому не нужная.
Она пыталась достучаться до матери: прогуливала школу, грубила учителям — лишь бы та обратила на неё внимание. Но в ответ — только крики да подзатыльники. После одной из таких ссор, когда мать вызвали к директору, та отлупила Машу и выгнала из дома. Девочка собрала вещи и уехала к отцу. Мать даже не пыталась её удержать — скорее, облегчённо вздохнула.
С отцом, Иваном Петровичем, жилось легче. Маша чувствовала его тепло, его настоящую заботу. Она взялась за ум, стала учиться, перестала бунтовать. Бабушки помогали по хозяйству, пока отец пропадал на работе, чтобы содержать семью. В их квартире на окраине Томска наконец поселился тот уют, о котором Маша так мечтала.
Но всё изменилось, когда отец решил, что ему нужна жена. С тех пор их дом заполонили чужие тётки. Маша встречала их с ледяной злостью, нарочно отпугивая. Ей не нужны были «мамы», которые смотрели на неё, как на обузу. Но в этот раз отец стоял на своём: «Маша, хватит дури! Я стараюсь для тебя, хочу, чтобы у нас была нормальная семья!»
Переступив порог, Маша услышала знакомый голос. Сердце дрогнуло. Она скинула валенки и заглянула в горницу. За столом сидела её любимая учительница, Анна Семёновна. Маша боготворила её: добрая, справедливая, всегда готовая помочь. Но что она тут делает?
Оказалось, Анна Семёновна пришла обсудить успехи Маши. Девочка растерялась. Ей вдруг почудилось, что учительница могла бы стать частью их семьи. Неужели она — та самая «невеста»? Маша замерла, боясь спугнуть надежду. Но разговор закончился, и Анна Семёновна ушла, оставив Машу в смятении.
Не успела она прийти в себя, как раздался стук в дверь. На пороге стояла незнакомная — молодая, с яркой помадой и наглой ухмылкой. Маша почувствовала, как внутри всё оборвалось. Она так надеялась, что Анна Семёновна пришла не просто так! В отчаянии девочка бросилась в свою комнату, хлопнула дверью и зарыдала в подушку.
Маша не выходила до позднего вечера, пока не пришла бабушка. Девочка вылила ей всю свою боль. «Не хочу я этих мачех! Почему папа не видит, как мне тяжело?» — рыдала она. Бабушка, выслушав, крепко прижала внучку к себе. Она понимала, как больно Маше, чьё детское сердце изранено одиночеством.
Бабушка поговорила с Иваном Петровичем. Решили — больше никаких «невест», пока Маша не будет готова. А в голове у девочки уже зрел план. Она твёрдо решила свести отца с Анной Семёновной. Если мечты сбываются, почему бы не помочь? Маша поклялась сделать всё, чтобы её любимая учительница стала частью их семьи.
Где-то в глубине души она верила: её мечта сбудется. Ведь даже в самой тёмной ночи найдётся лучик света, не так ли?
A Life Back in Order – “Lada, I Forbid You From Speaking to Your Sister and Her Family!” My Husband Gave Me an Ultimatum, Enraged at My Bond With My Sister Natasha, While His Own Drinking and Cheating Tore Our Marriage Apart – But When a Stranger Turned Up With His Secret Son, I Finally Found The Strength To Break Free and Discover True Happiness with Kind-Hearted Dr. Herman Lewis
LIFE, SORTED Lydia, Im forbidding you from seeing your sister and her family again! They’ve got their life, weve got...
Bitterness at the Bottom of My Soul “The children’s home has been waiting for you for ages! Get out of our family!” I screamed with a trembling voice. The target of my wild indignation was my cousin, Dima. God, how I loved him as a child! Blond hair, bright blue eyes, cheerful nature — that was Dima. …Relatives often gathered around the festive table. Of all my cousins, I singled out Dima. He could spin tales with his tongue like a lace maker and he drew brilliantly. Sometimes he would churn out five or six sketches an evening. I would stare, entranced by their beauty, quietly gathering his drawings and hiding them in my desk. I carefully treasured my cousin’s artwork. Dima was two years older than me. When he turned 14, his mother died—gone so suddenly, she just didn’t wake up… The question arose—what would happen to Dima? Naturally, they first turned to his father, but finding him was no easy feat. He and Dima’s mother were long divorced, and the new family “couldn’t be disturbed.” The rest of the relatives just shrugged: “We have our own families, our own problems.” Turns out, during the day, family is there, but come nightfall, not a soul to be found. So, with two kids of their own, my parents became Dima’s guardians—after all, Dima’s late mother was my dad’s younger sister. At first, I was happy that Dima would be living with us. But then… On his very first day in our home, Dima’s behavior set me on edge. To comfort her orphaned nephew, my mum asked, “Is there anything you’d like, Dima? Don’t be shy, just say.” And Dima immediately replied, “A model train set.” Now, this wasn’t a cheap toy. I was shocked—your mum just died, the most important person in your life, and all you want is a train set? How could you even think of that? But my parents immediately bought him his dream. Then it was, “Buy me a tape player, jeans, a designer jacket…” This was the eighties, mind you, and not only was this stuff pricey, but it was impossible to get. My parents made sacrifices for the orphan, even at our own expense. My brother and I understood and didn’t complain. …When Dima turned sixteen, he discovered girls. And he wasn’t afraid to show his affection. Worse yet, he started making advances toward me—his own cousin. But as a sporty girl, I skillfully dodged his unwelcome attention. We’d even come to blows. I would cry and cry. I never told my parents—they didn’t need the heartache. Kids don’t talk about such things. After I fended him off, Dima wasted no time turning to my friends, who actually competed for his attention. …But Dima was also a shameless thief. I remember my piggy bank: saving on school lunches to buy presents for my parents, only to find it empty one day! Dima denied everything—didn’t bat an eye, didn’t blush, just outright lied. It broke my heart. How could he steal while living under our roof? He was wrecking our family from within, but Dima really didn’t understand why I was upset. He truly believed everyone owed him. I began to hate him. That’s when I finally screamed at him: “Get out of our family!” I lashed him with my words—said things that can never be taken back… My mum barely managed to calm me. From that day on, Dima ceased to exist for me. I ignored him completely. Later, I learned the other relatives knew what a “character” Dima was—they lived nearby and seen it all. Our family lived across town. Even Dima’s former teachers warned my parents: “You’re making a big mistake. Dima will ruin your other children too.” …At a new school, he met Katy—she loved Dima all her life. She married him straight out of school. They had a daughter, and Katy put up with his lies and cheating without protest. As they say: single life is hardship, married life is double. Dima joined the Army, stationed in Scotland. There, he started another family—he somehow managed it during leave. When his service ended, he stayed in Scotland. He had a son there. Katy, not hesitating, went after him and, by hook or by crook, brought him back home. My parents never received a word of thanks from cousin Dima—not that they expected it. Now, fifty years on, Dmitri is an active member of the local Anglican church. He and Katy have five grandchildren. On the surface, all seems well, but the bitterness of life with Dima remains… No amount of sugar could ever sweeten it.
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Bittersweet Happiness – “What’s wrong with that young lady? She’s a good girl. Modest, neat, a hardworking student. She loves you,” Helen Edwards chastised her son. “Mum, I’ll handle it…” Denis clearly ended the pointless conversation. Helen left the room. “He’ll handle it… How many girls has he turned away… Nearly forty, and soon no one will do. Nothing’s ever right for him…” she thought with a heavy sigh. “Son, dinner’s ready,” Helen called from the kitchen. Denis responded instantly, tucking into his mother’s homemade stew. “Thank you, Mum. Delicious, as always.” “You should be saying that to your wife, not me,” Helen couldn’t let it go. “Mum…” Denis drank his compote and prepared to leave. “Wait, son. Do you know, I once visited a fortune-teller? She took one look at me and said: ‘Your son will have happiness, but it will be bittersweet.’” “Oh, Mum, don’t believe such things,” Denis grinned. …Through the years, different women—some loved, some not—came and went in Denis’s life. …Inna was smart, cultured, shockingly wise for her age. She often gave sound advice to the nine-years-older Denis. At first he liked this, but then he began to see Inna more as a mentor than anything else. Everything felt colourless. They split up. Polly had an eight-year-old son. Try as he might, Denis couldn’t get through to the boy, though he loved Polly. She was beautiful, but too headstrong. Whenever they quarrelled, he’d try to patch things up with gifts. The arguments felt senseless. Something was always missing—maybe peace and stability. Vera was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. Denis almost married her. She was decent, pure, balanced—he felt like he had to “wear kid gloves” just to speak to her. He even moved into her flat. He was ready to start a family. But… He came home unexpectedly from a work trip to find Vera in bed with her old school friend. Classic… After that, Denis moved back in with his mum. Enough romance, he decided. “I’ll be a bachelor—a solid family of one,” he joked to his mum. Helen would shrug and sigh: “Will you ever find your one, son?” But fate had its own plan. Suddenly, unexpectedly. Denis was travelling for work, claimed his usual bottom bunk in the train carriage. A woman entered: “Excuse me, would you mind swapping? Can I have your lower bunk? Please.” “No trouble,” Denis replied. He looked her over—nothing remarkable. Yet his heart skipped. “Maybe she’s the one…” He clambered onto the top bunk and dozed off… “Glad you’re awake! Come, have some tea,” the stranger cooed. Denis climbed down and they started talking. “Larissa,” she introduced herself. “Denis. Nice to meet you, Larissa.” They talked throughout the evening. Denis felt instantly at ease. He didn’t try to impress her; everything just flowed, as if he’d known her forever. They exchanged numbers, just in case… A couple of weeks later, he couldn’t resist calling her. One thing led to another… Dates, kisses, promises… Denis couldn’t imagine his life without Larissa. At forty years old! He’d always let previous girlfriends go easily—but not this one… He wanted to lose himself entirely in her life. Larissa surrounded Denis with love, care, and understanding. Three months in, he offered his heart and hand. “Denis, I’m seven years older than you. I have three children. We live in a council flat,” Larissa admitted. She never lied. “I know, Lara. I’ve met your kids—you’ll all move in with me. It’s sorted. I love every inch of you. You’re my last and only,” said Denis, kissing her tenderly. “All right, Denis, let’s give it a try,” murmured a shy Larissa. “No, not try, Lara. We’ll be together. For good,” Denis squeezed her hand. “Do you hear me? Forever.” When Helen learned his plans, all she could say was: “You’ve really outdone yourself this time… The plainest girl of them all…” …Nine months later, their daughter was born—a child with Down’s syndrome. Denis felt both joy and worry for Larissa. Would she cope? Having a child with special needs is never easy. …Today, Denis and Larissa’s daughter is eight. The whole family adores her. Denis worships Larissa. Bittersweet, but happiness…
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