З життя
Привет! Интересуюсь комнатой по объявлению!
На пороге квартиры Жанны Игоревны стояла девушка, напоминающая серую мышку: поношенные джинсы, выцветшая кофта, потёртые кеды. В руках — скромная сумка из дешёвого магазина. Светлые волосы собраны в небрежный хвост, лицо без косметики. Лишь глаза выделялись — огромные, варисиновые, словно два озера.
— Заходи, — буркнула Жанна Игоревна, оценив скромный вид гостьи. — Свет без нужды не жги, воду попусту не лей. Никаких гостей! Понятно?
Девушка кивнула, улыбнувшись лучисто: — Хорошо!
«Покладистая, — подметила про себя хозяйка. — Видно, из глубинки». Так и оказалось: новую жиличку звали Светлана, приехала из деревни под Рязанью, где её семья держала коровник. Училась на ветеринара.
— Значит, коров доить будешь! — фыркнула Жанна.
— И лечить тоже, — спокойно ответила Светлана. — Всех зверей: от телят до щенков.
Квартирантка оказалась золото: тихая, аккуратная, полы драила до блеска. Особенно удавались ей оладьи — воздушные, с хрустящей корочкой. Жанна, ворча, брала добавку, а по вечерам невольно засиживалась с девушкой за чаем.
Всё изменилось, когда с нефтяных вышечек под Мурманском вернулся сын Дмитрий. Статный, кудрявый, «вылитый отец» — вздыхала Жанна, называя его на французский лад «Дидье». Парень морщился, но терпел — мать всё-таки.
Увидев, как сын уплетает оладьи, заигрывая со Светланой, Жанна остолбенела. «Совсем вкуса нет! — металась она. — Эта деревенщина ему ровня?» Теперь каждое движение квартирантки раздражало: и смех слишком звонкий, и платье слишком яркое. А главное — тот влюблённый взгляд, которым Дмитрий следовал за Светланой.
— На меня, родную, так не смотрит! — рыдала Жанна в телефон подруге Людмиле Викторовне. — Змею подколодную приютила!
— Смотри, как бы не приворожила! — нагнетала подруга.
Мысль о колдовстве Жанна отвергала, но ревность разъедала душу. Решение пришло неожиданно: старинные серьги с аметистами, семейная реликвия, «исчезли» как раз перед визитом Светланы к родителям.
— Дидье, не брал мои серёжки? — невинно спросила Жанна за завтраком.
— Мам, я ж не барышня! — удивился сын.
— А ты, Света, не видела? — Жанна пристально смотрела на побледневшую девушку.
— Не брала! — та едва сдерживала слёзы.
— Врёшь! Отправила своим деревенским!
Дмитрий, обыскивая квартиру, нашёл свёрток в материной сумочке.
— Как ты могла? — смотрел он на Жанну, будто впервые видя.
— Ошиблась, сынок! Забыла! — лепетала та.
— Мы съезжаем.
На прощание Жанна крикнула: — Нахлебаешься с ней горя!
Через месяц Людмила Викторовна сообщила: у Жанны инфаркт. Светлана, узнав, наготовила куриного бульона, испекла пирожков с капустой. Дмитрий отказался ехать.
— Миша занят, — сказала Светлана, кормя свекровь с ложки.
— Прости меня, — всхлипывала Жанна. — Возвращайтесь…
— Какие пустяки! — девушка гладила её по руке.
После больницы Жанна перебралась с молодыми на рязанскую ферму. Теперь её главная гордость — внук Сашенька, ради которого она готова часами рассказывать сказки у печки. А соседкам хвалится:
— Вот повезло мне с квартиранткой — ангела Бог послал!
Искры былой вражды давно погасли — остались лишь румяные оладьи и тёплые вечера в большой семье.
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