З життя
«Золовка закохалась — і знову вся відповідальність за її дитину на нас»
У липні, як завжди, я з дітьми поїхала на дачу до батьків. Чоловікові з відпусткою не пощастило — лишився вдома, на господарстві, як то кажуть. Усе було звичайно й спокійно, доки я не повернулася… і не знайшла в своїй хаті несподівану «гостю». Замість тиші — дівочий сміх, замість затишку — розвішані сушити речі, косметика, чужі капці в коридорі. На кухні — племінниця чоловіка, шістнадцятирічна Мар’яна. Сидить, ніби у себе вдома. Чоловік, явно спійманий на гарячому, одразу підняв руки:
— Вибач, кохана… Я не хотів тебе турбувати. Зараз усе поясню.
Я вже тоді здогадувалася, звідки вітер віє. Мар’яна, дочка його сестри Оксаниї, у нас уже бувала. Зазвичай, коли в Оксаниї виникала чергова «романтична зустріч» чи «терміновий від’їзд», донька опинялася у нас. Ми не заперечували — розлучена жінка, молода, має право на особисте життя. Але то були одна-дві ночі. А тепер… Мама завітала, лише ми з дітьми виїхали на дачу, та й досі навіть не думає повертатися до рідної матері.
Уявіть: двокімнатна квартира у спальному районі Львова, п’ятеро — ми з чоловіком, двоє невгамовних синів і шістнадцятирічна дівчина, вже не дитина, але й не дорoga. Дитяча — дванадцять квадратів, наша спальня — трохи більше. Перебитися день-другий ще можна, але жити так — катування для всіх.
У ванній — Мар’янине білля: мережива, тоненькі бретельки, усе напоказ. У мене хлопці підростають, уже помічають жіночу красу, й я точно не хочу, щоб їхні перші почуття пов’язувалися з племінницею. Зауваження я зробила ввічливо. Мар’яна без суперечок усе прибрала, навіть вибачилась. Треба сказати, вона сама по собі добра дівчина — допомагає, чемна, чуйна. Але це все доки знаєш: вона — тимчасово. А тут… строк невідомий.
Я підійшла до чоловіка:
— Юре, а вона до початку школи поїде? Чи ми новий навчальний рік теж із «квартиранткою» починатимемо?
Чоловік лише знизав плечима:
— Не знаю… Оксана мовчить.
Ось тобі й відповідь. Мати, виявляється, зовсім віддала доньку на нас, аби будувати кохання. На що живе Мар’яна, що їсть, що робить увечері — їй байдуже. А ми? А ми мусимо викручуватися, щоб не образити, не вигнати, не показати дівчині, що вона тут — зайва.
Я вирішила не спалаху власноруч. Вранці подзвоню Оксанії, спокійно все обговоримо. Та ледве вона почула, про що мова — дзвінок обірвався, і більше я не змогла додзвонитися. Трубку скидає одразу, короткі гудки, і, мабуть, мій номер уже в чорному списку. Приїхати до неї? Вона живе на іншому кінці міста, й я впевнена — двері не відчинить. Усе було ясно, як день.
Тоді я видихнула й сказала чоловікові:
— Любий, вирішуй питання зі своєю сестрою. Мене вона слухати не хоче.
Він лише похилив голову:
— Схоже, й мене теж… Але куди ж Мар’яну? Ми ж не виженемо дитину?
Ні, звісно. Мар’яна росла без батька, материнської турботи теж особливо не бачила. Ми їй усе життя допомагали: на дні народження — гарні подарунки, на свята — сукні, на Новий рік — телефони. Ми завжди були поруч. Але ми не її батьки. Ми — родичі. І якщо прихистити на час — то одне, а ось жити разом місяцями… Ні. Це вже зовсім інша історія.
А Оксана? Вона насолоджується новим романом. Десь у ресторані, десь у кіно, а може, на вихідних у чоловіка. Їй добре. Мар’яна — з нами, отже, проблему вирішено.
І що тепер? Взяти Мар’яну за руку, відвезти й посадити під дверима? Жорстоко. Але й так жити — неможливо. Ми з чоловіком не підлітки, щоб ділити спальню з третьою людиною. Діти й так нервуДоведеться терпіти, але серце болить, бо розумію — ця історія ще не закінчилася.
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