З життя
Три дні без чистого посуду: як робочий день перетворився на марафон миття.
Володимир мив посуду. Три дні терпів, але вже жодної чистої чашки чи тарілки не залишилося. Тому, прийшовши з роботи, навіть не перевдягався. Одягнув фартух і взявся до справи. Ще б борщ зварити, бо вже й забув, який він на смак…
Залишки їжі присохли до тарілок так, що треба замочити. А чашок після кави штук десять. Невже не можна за собою по одній мити? Ком у горлі підступив. Хотілося їсти, а в холодильнику — пустка. І раптом так запахли Володимиру Галини пиріжки. У їхньому домі завжди пахло випічкою, бо дружина дуже любила готувати. Ледве прийде з роботи, а вже з кухні пахне корицею. Або ваніллю. Вже міксер гуде, духовка гріється…
Але це Володимир тепер так тепло згадує дружину. Тодішньому ж Володимиру здавалося, що вона, окрім кухні й дітей (робота не враховувалася), нічого не зауважує. Вічно у неї то прання, то миття вікон, то чистка килимів. А з літа до осені кухня перетворювалася на консервний цех. Володимир не встигав банки в підвал виносити.
Одного такого вечора він прийшов з роботи, на порозі кухні у Галини, як завжди, щось варилося-парилося, а вона, сидячи на краєчку столу — мала таку недобру звичку, чистила яблука і дивилася по телевізору якийсь концерт.
– Я розлучаюся з тобою, – сказав Володимир дивовижно спокійно, навіть не привітавшись.
Дружина здригнулася, але не обернулася.
– У мене інша жінка, – пояснив. – Я її люблю і більше не можу тебе обманювати.
Галина відклала ножа, повільно повернула до чоловіка своє розпарене від пари й новини обличчя і покірно, тихо сказала:
– Візьми один рулет, бо ми стільки не з’їмо.
Володимир, звісно, того рулета не взяв, хоча й дуже любив: з маком та горіхами… Він зібрав найнеобхідніші речі й пішов до жінки, яка була зовсім не схожа на його Галину. Вона ніколи не носила, як Галина, джинси — тільки короткі сукні й спіднички. Ніколи не взувала кросівки, лише туфлі на підборах. Вона могла сказати, що йде до салону краси, таким тоном, ніби на важливу ділову зустріч. І весь світ повинен почекати.
А Галина ніколи не ходила до салонів. Не любила гуляти по магазинах, базарах. Якщо треба було щось придбати, складала список, йшла і за недовгий час поверталася з торбами. Вона не читала глянцевих жіночих журналів, не пила каву, не фарбувала волосся, не займалася фітнесом. Але завжди була гарною, доглянутою, стрункою. Вузькі джинси і короткі кофтинки, з косою-«колоском» виглядала як старшокласниця.
Володимиру ж хотілося бачити поруч справжню жінку. От і знайшов собі Лесю. Тепер сам прасує сорочки, варить їжу, миє посуд. І сняться йому ночами Галинівські рулети й ватрушки. І пахнуть ці сни ваніллю, і дзвенять у голові Галинівським сміхом…
Привівши на кухні лад, Володимир пішов до кімнати. На дивані лежала обута Леся, граційно спершись на лікті. Перед нею лежав журнал, а на столику поруч стояло ще три чашки з-під кави.
– Який же ти молодець, мій зайчику. І що б я без тебе робила? – защебетала жінка, протягуючи до чоловіка руки. – А я щойно від манікюрниці. Так втомилася! Дивись: класні нігті? Як свої, правда? Іди, мій пупсику, я тебе обійму…
Володимира почало нудити. «Напевно, від голоду», – подумав він і пішов на кухню чистити картоплю.
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