З життя
Навещаю сына, а он меня в гостинице поселил!
В тихом селе на берегу Волги, где воздух наполнен ароматом яблоневых садов, мы с мужем живём в просторной избе, где двери всегда раскрыты для гостей. У нас есть светлица для приезжих, а если места мало — с радостью уступим свою постель, лишь бы гостям было хорошо. Так нас учили: накормить, обогреть, уложить — святое дело. Двери нашего дома всегда открыты для родни и друзей.
За долгие годы брака мы вырастили троих детей. Старшая, Любаша, живёт в соседнем городке. Видимся почти каждую неделю, а её муж, хоть куда — золотой человек, всегда поможет, если попросишь. С ним мне несказанно повезло.
Младшая, Дуняша, учится в губернском городе. Грезит о карьере, и я её понимаю — дети подождут, а мечту надо ловить, пока молода. Звонит часто, рассказывает новости, и я знаю — она нас не забудет.
А вот сын, Ваня, уехал далеко — в Псковскую область. После института с товарищем дело открыл, теперь в делах по уши. Женат на Марфе, растёт у них сынок, мой ненаглядный Ванюшка. Но с невесткой у нас не сложилось. Марфа — из других краёв: холодная, замкнутая, вечно недовольная. Наше село ей скучно, и даже Ванюшку настраивает к нам не ездить. В прошлый раз они продержались два дня, а потом Марфа заявила, что “задыхается”. Ваня теперь сам приезжает — лишь бы ссор не было.
В этом году у мужа отпуск выпал, и мы решили к сыну нагрянуть. За все годы ни разу у него не были, а так хотелось посмотреть, как он устроился. Конечно, предупредили — негоже без спроса сваливаться, как снег на голову.
Ваня встретил нас на станции с улыбкой. Марфа, к удивлению, стол накрыла — скромный, но всё же. Разговаривали, смеялись, и я уже подумала: может, не так всё плохо? Но с наступлением вечера сердце упало в пятки. Ваня объявил, что ночевать мы будем в гостинице. Я даже не поняла сперва. Гостиница?! Мы, родители, приехали, а он нас — в чужой дом?
К восьми вечера он такси вызвал и отвёз нас в какой-то затхлый номер. Холодно, сыро, кровать скрипит, а в углу пахнет затхлостью. Мы с мужем сидели, как громом поражённые, не веря, что родной сын так поступил. Я бы и на полу в их доме легла, мне не палаты нужны! Но Марфа, как оказалось, твёрдо сказала: места для нас у них нет.
Утром проснулись голодные. Кухни в гостинице нет, а в местной столовой цены кусаются. Позвонили Ване, он велел приходить на завтрак. Весь день просидели в их квартире, пока сын с женой на работе были. Ванюшка, внучек, радовал нас своими рассказами, но на душе было пусто. Вечером — ужин, а потом опять такси иВечером — ужин, а потом опять такси и гостиница, и только тогда я поняла, что мой сын уже не мой.
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