Chapter 1
Men are divided into two types: those who helpfully take their wife’s old fur coat to the dry cleaner, and those who buy their wife a new coat.
I turned to the windowsill and turned on the electric kettle. Maybe, having dropped in on the light without an invitation, the girl will finally realize that it’s high time for her to leave? Honestly, I no longer have the strength to listen to her moans.
“Dasha, what do you think,” the uninvited guest continued, “what is most important in a future wife?” Ability to earn money or non-conflict character?
“It’s best if the chosen one earns decent money and at the same time is a kind, non-greedy person,” I answered. And, defiantly looking at her watch, she exclaimed: “Wow!” How unnoticed half a day has flown by, and I still have so much to do!
“The worries won’t go away,” the guest waved her off, “especially those at home.” Why do you think I never have more than two dates with one guy? What am I doing wrong? Please pour me another cup of coffee.
I silently reached for the jar in which the grains were stored.
It is true what they say, there is nothing easier than making life difficult for yourself. A week ago, an old acquaintance, Rita Grebneva, rushed to me and, right from the doorway, without even having time to take off her boots, began babbling:
– If you don’t help, my happiness will collapse, and I will die under its rubble!
I know that Rita lives in a tiny one-room apartment, where even a not particularly obese rabbit would be cramped. But Grebneva has an older sister, Zinaida, who lives beyond the Ural Mountains, who sincerely believes that relatives should see each other as often as possible, and once every six months, at the end of winter and in August, she comes to the capital to hug her youngest. And since Zina is a family woman, who dearly loves her husband, three children and her father-in-law, she certainly takes the entire family with her.
How do so many people fit into twenty-five square meters? Well, the sister and her husband sleep on the sofa in the room, and the husband’s relatives settle down there, on the floor. The children are stacked in a pile in the kitchenette - the little son crawls under the table, and the sweetheart daughters snore at the stove and sink (it’s good that Grebneva’s nephews don’t go to school yet, but when they grow up, a problem will arise). Rita herself sits comfortably in the bath. True, the plumbing in the apartment is, to use the automotive term, small-sized, but this is sheer nonsense.
In previous centuries in France, the aristocracy believed that one should sleep exclusively in a semi-sitting position, which is very beneficial for health. The guide at the Palace of Versailles spoke about this, and I remember I almost burst into tears with pity for the unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette when I saw her bed. Since then, I have been tormented by the thought: what if all the recommendations of modern doctors are as erroneous as the advice of their colleagues from the time of Louis the Sixteenth? Maybe you shouldn’t lose weight, eat low-fat foods and torment yourself with sports? Suddenly, two or three hundred years later, some hundred and fifty kilogram Dashenka Vasilyeva, eating cakes with whipped cream, will shed tears of sympathy for her namesake from the twenty-first century, having learned that she ate lettuce leaves and rattled dumbbells, wanting to stay healthy, as future science will prove : fullness and ravenous appetite - a direct path to immortality? After all, we now know that we need to rest lying down, not sitting. Although Marie Antoinette died quite healthy. Well, I digressed from the main topic of the story, sorry.
As a rule, Zinaida lives with her sister for about a month. She and her husband work as web designers; they don’t need to go to work, as long as they have a laptop at hand. After the departure of her beloved relative with her children and household members, Ritochka’s right eyelid twitches for a couple of weeks.
Last summer, a day after the next invasion of the Ural Polovtsians, Grebneva’s neighbor forgot to turn off the tap in her bathroom, and Margarita’s apartment was flooded. A friend called me at five in the morning and, interspersing her words with sobs, asked:
“I beg you, give us shelter for a day.” We are standing on the street with small children and two old people.
Now evaluate the situation. At that moment I lived alone in a huge house in the village of Lozhkino. The main part of my family, along with the dogs and cats, moved to France, where we have a cottage in a small place near Paris. True, I quite accidentally acquired new pets and hired a Ukrainian woman, Angela, as a housekeeper, but my bedroom is much larger than Rita’s entire apartment, and there are many empty rooms in the mansion near Moscow. Put yourself in my place: would you be tempted to refuse hospitality to a homeless family with three children or less? Of course, I brought all the “drowned people” to Lozhkino, where they liked it so much that the camp stayed with me for three months.
Then I took the noisy family to the airport and, waving a handkerchief after him, fell into euphoria. Only Rita's presence kept me from dancing a jig right next to the reception desk. Then I invited the cleaners, and they cleaned the house, bought a new set to replace the broken one, changed the carpet on the stairs, which the kids had burned with the help of the “Young Chemist” set, threw out the bed linen, which was thoroughly covered with brown spots (Zina’s mother-in-law is a big fan of drinking coffee in bed) , bought a new mirror instead of the one my friend’s father-in-law accidentally broke... Well, I won’t list all the damage now, it’s petty.
A month and a half after Zinaida’s departure, the house in Lozhkin acquired its previous appearance. Finally, I calmly exhaled, life flowed as usual. And then a week ago Ritulya came to me and insisted:
– My happiness depends only on you!
I hope you, knowing how the family of her Ural relatives stayed in my house, will not judge me for the fact that I immediately said to Grebneva:
– Ritulya, I’m sorry, I can’t discuss your problems now, I urgently need to pack my bags.
- You are leaving? – she gasped. - In Paris?
In general, I don’t know how to quickly come up with good reasons for refusing at the right time, but that day I showed amazing intelligence. The brain started working like a powerful supercomputer, and in a split second it calculated all the options. So, now it’s the very end of winter, which means Zinaida is off to Moscow again. Rita’s sister really liked it in Lozhkin, she wants to make me happy again with a visit. That’s why her mother-in-law said before leaving: “You have a wonderful plot, why don’t you plant a vegetable garden? When we return to Moscow in the spring, I will dig up a dozen beds in the clearing. It's sunny there, the cucumbers will grow quickly..."
As soon as I remembered her words, my tongue blurted out about leaving. But Rita decided not to give up and asked if I was flying to Paris. And what will happen if I answer, yes, as always, on a twelve-thirty flight from Sheremetyevo airport? It’s as if Grebneva will scream: “Please let my friends live in your house! They won’t bother anyone, the mansion will be empty anyway!” And then what do you want me to do?
The decision came in a second. I lowered my eyes and began to lie with an inspiration that Baron Munchausen could envy:
– Which Paris? I started renovating the cottage. A team of construction workers is coming here. Can you imagine the horror? I can’t receive guests; I have nowhere to go.
– Do you have somewhere to live for a couple of months? – she clarified.
- Yes Yes! – I confirmed. – I’m not planning anything radical, just a cosmetic update, I think... uh... to finish it by the beginning of autumn.
- And the animals? – Rita did not calm down. - Where are you going to take Athena and Hector?
This question pretty much surprised me. Grebneva is not one of the people who love dogs and cats. No, she will never offend any of the smaller brothers, but she will not have a puppy or a kitten at home. Then why does she care about my pets? If I had thought about this topic a little longer, maybe I would have avoided the future troubles, but the supercomputer, tired of work, again turned into the brain of a simple blonde, so I said:
- They will go to Paris. And I, the unfortunate one, will have to live in a rented apartment, in terrible conditions. After all, as you yourself understand, they don’t rent out decent housing for a short period of time.
Having spoken out, I thought that I had saved myself from another visit from Zinaida with the camp, and I tried my best to keep a dejected expression on my face.
- That's great! – Ritulya suddenly exclaimed. - As good as it gets! I will help you, and you will help me. Complete coincidence of interests. Lord, I thought I’d have to beg you on my knees all day, and suddenly such luck!
I realized that I had made a fatal mistake by lying about the repairs. And Grebneva, shining like the May sun, quickly brought me up to date. But before I tell her story, I have to explain something.
Men are divided into two types: those who helpfully take their wife’s old fur coat to the dry cleaner, and those who buy their wife a new coat.
I turned to the windowsill and turned on the electric kettle. Maybe, having dropped in on the light without an invitation, the girl will finally realize that it’s high time for her to leave? Honestly, I no longer have the strength to listen to her moans.
“Dasha, what do you think,” the uninvited guest continued, “what is most important in a future wife?” Ability to earn money or non-conflict character?
“It’s best if the chosen one earns decent money and at the same time is a kind, non-greedy person,” I answered. And, defiantly looking at her watch, she exclaimed: “Wow!” How unnoticed half a day has flown by, and I still have so much to do!
“The worries won’t go away,” the guest waved her off, “especially those at home.” Why do you think I never have more than two dates with one guy? What am I doing wrong? Please pour me another cup of coffee.
I silently reached for the jar in which the grains were stored.
It is true what they say, there is nothing easier than making life difficult for yourself. A week ago, an old acquaintance, Rita Grebneva, rushed to me and, right from the doorway, without even having time to take off her boots, began babbling:
– If you don’t help, my happiness will collapse, and I will die under its rubble!
I know that Rita lives in a tiny one-room apartment, where even a not particularly obese rabbit would be cramped. But Grebneva has an older sister, Zinaida, who lives beyond the Ural Mountains, who sincerely believes that relatives should see each other as often as possible, and once every six months, at the end of winter and in August, she comes to the capital to hug her youngest. And since Zina is a family woman, who dearly loves her husband, three children and her father-in-law, she certainly takes the entire family with her.
How do so many people fit into twenty-five square meters? Well, the sister and her husband sleep on the sofa in the room, and the husband’s relatives settle down there, on the floor. The children are stacked in a pile in the kitchenette - the little son crawls under the table, and the sweetheart daughters snore at the stove and sink (it’s good that Grebneva’s nephews don’t go to school yet, but when they grow up, a problem will arise). Rita herself sits comfortably in the bath. True, the plumbing in the apartment is, to use the automotive term, small-sized, but this is sheer nonsense.
In previous centuries in France, the aristocracy believed that one should sleep exclusively in a semi-sitting position, which is very beneficial for health. The guide at the Palace of Versailles spoke about this, and I remember I almost burst into tears with pity for the unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette when I saw her bed. Since then, I have been tormented by the thought: what if all the recommendations of modern doctors are as erroneous as the advice of their colleagues from the time of Louis the Sixteenth? Maybe you shouldn’t lose weight, eat low-fat foods and torment yourself with sports? Suddenly, two or three hundred years later, some hundred and fifty kilogram Dashenka Vasilyeva, eating cakes with whipped cream, will shed tears of sympathy for her namesake from the twenty-first century, having learned that she ate lettuce leaves and rattled dumbbells, wanting to stay healthy, as future science will prove : fullness and ravenous appetite - a direct path to immortality? After all, we now know that we need to rest lying down, not sitting. Although Marie Antoinette died quite healthy. Well, I digressed from the main topic of the story, sorry.
As a rule, Zinaida lives with her sister for about a month. She and her husband work as web designers; they don’t need to go to work, as long as they have a laptop at hand. After the departure of her beloved relative with her children and household members, Ritochka’s right eyelid twitches for a couple of weeks.
Last summer, a day after the next invasion of the Ural Polovtsians, Grebneva’s neighbor forgot to turn off the tap in her bathroom, and Margarita’s apartment was flooded. A friend called me at five in the morning and, interspersing her words with sobs, asked:
“I beg you, give us shelter for a day.” We are standing on the street with small children and two old people.
Now evaluate the situation. At that moment I lived alone in a huge house in the village of Lozhkino. The main part of my family, along with the dogs and cats, moved to France, where we have a cottage in a small place near Paris. True, I quite accidentally acquired new pets and hired a Ukrainian woman, Angela, as a housekeeper, but my bedroom is much larger than Rita’s entire apartment, and there are many empty rooms in the mansion near Moscow. Put yourself in my place: would you be tempted to refuse hospitality to a homeless family with three children or less? Of course, I brought all the “drowned people” to Lozhkino, where they liked it so much that the camp stayed with me for three months.
Then I took the noisy family to the airport and, waving a handkerchief after him, fell into euphoria. Only Rita's presence kept me from dancing a jig right next to the reception desk. Then I invited the cleaners, and they cleaned the house, bought a new set to replace the broken one, changed the carpet on the stairs, which the kids had burned with the help of the “Young Chemist” set, threw out the bed linen, which was thoroughly covered with brown spots (Zina’s mother-in-law is a big fan of drinking coffee in bed) , bought a new mirror instead of the one my friend’s father-in-law accidentally broke... Well, I won’t list all the damage now, it’s petty.
A month and a half after Zinaida’s departure, the house in Lozhkin acquired its previous appearance. Finally, I calmly exhaled, life flowed as usual. And then a week ago Ritulya came to me and insisted:
– My happiness depends only on you!
I hope you, knowing how the family of her Ural relatives stayed in my house, will not judge me for the fact that I immediately said to Grebneva:
– Ritulya, I’m sorry, I can’t discuss your problems now, I urgently need to pack my bags.
- You are leaving? – she gasped. - In Paris?
In general, I don’t know how to quickly come up with good reasons for refusing at the right time, but that day I showed amazing intelligence. The brain started working like a powerful supercomputer, and in a split second it calculated all the options. So, now it’s the very end of winter, which means Zinaida is off to Moscow again. Rita’s sister really liked it in Lozhkin, she wants to make me happy again with a visit. That’s why her mother-in-law said before leaving: “You have a wonderful plot, why don’t you plant a vegetable garden? When we return to Moscow in the spring, I will dig up a dozen beds in the clearing. It's sunny there, the cucumbers will grow quickly..."
As soon as I remembered her words, my tongue blurted out about leaving. But Rita decided not to give up and asked if I was flying to Paris. And what will happen if I answer, yes, as always, on a twelve-thirty flight from Sheremetyevo airport? It’s as if Grebneva will scream: “Please let my friends live in your house! They won’t bother anyone, the mansion will be empty anyway!” And then what do you want me to do?
The decision came in a second. I lowered my eyes and began to lie with an inspiration that Baron Munchausen could envy:
– Which Paris? I started renovating the cottage. A team of construction workers is coming here. Can you imagine the horror? I can’t receive guests; I have nowhere to go.
– Do you have somewhere to live for a couple of months? – she clarified.
- Yes Yes! – I confirmed. – I’m not planning anything radical, just a cosmetic update, I think... uh... to finish it by the beginning of autumn.
- And the animals? – Rita did not calm down. - Where are you going to take Athena and Hector?
Men are divided into two types: those who helpfully take their wife’s old fur coat to the dry cleaner, and those who buy their wife a new coat.
I turned to the windowsill and turned on the electric kettle. Maybe, having dropped in on the light without an invitation, the girl will finally realize that it’s high time for her to leave? Honestly, I no longer have the strength to listen to her moans.
“Dasha, what do you think,” the uninvited guest continued, “what is most important in a future wife?” Ability to earn money or non-conflict character?
“It’s best if the chosen one earns decent money and at the same time is a kind, non-greedy person,” I answered. And, defiantly looking at her watch, she exclaimed: “Wow!” How unnoticed half a day has flown by, and I still have so much to do!
“The worries won’t go away,” the guest waved her off, “especially those at home.” Why do you think I never have more than two dates with one guy? What am I doing wrong? Please pour me another cup of coffee.
I silently reached for the jar in which the grains were stored.
It is true what they say, there is nothing easier than making life difficult for yourself. A week ago, an old acquaintance, Rita Grebneva, rushed to me and, right from the doorway, without even having time to take off her boots, began babbling:
– If you don’t help, my happiness will collapse, and I will die under its rubble!
I know that Rita lives in a tiny one-room apartment, where even a not particularly obese rabbit would be cramped. But Grebneva has an older sister, Zinaida, who lives beyond the Ural Mountains, who sincerely believes that relatives should see each other as often as possible, and once every six months, at the end of winter and in August, she comes to the capital to hug her youngest. And since Zina is a family woman, who dearly loves her husband, three children and her father-in-law, she certainly takes the entire family with her.
How do so many people fit into twenty-five square meters? Well, the sister and her husband sleep on the sofa in the room, and the husband’s relatives settle down there, on the floor. The children are stacked in a pile in the kitchenette - the little son crawls under the table, and the sweetheart daughters snore at the stove and sink (it’s good that Grebneva’s nephews don’t go to school yet, but when they grow up, a problem will arise). Rita herself sits comfortably in the bath. True, the plumbing in the apartment is, to use the automotive term, small-sized, but this is sheer nonsense.
In previous centuries in France, the aristocracy believed that one should sleep exclusively in a semi-sitting position, which is very beneficial for health. The guide at the Palace of Versailles spoke about this, and I remember I almost burst into tears with pity for the unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette when I saw her bed. Since then, I have been tormented by the thought: what if all the recommendations of modern doctors are as erroneous as the advice of their colleagues from the time of Louis the Sixteenth? Maybe you shouldn’t lose weight, eat low-fat foods and torment yourself with sports? Suddenly, two or three hundred years later, some hundred and fifty kilogram Dashenka Vasilyeva, eating cakes with whipped cream, will shed tears of sympathy for her namesake from the twenty-first century, having learned that she ate lettuce leaves and rattled dumbbells, wanting to stay healthy, as future science will prove : fullness and ravenous appetite - a direct path to immortality? After all, we now know that we need to rest lying down, not sitting. Although Marie Antoinette died quite healthy. Well, I digressed from the main topic of the story, sorry.
As a rule, Zinaida lives with her sister for about a month. She and her husband work as web designers; they don’t need to go to work, as long as they have a laptop at hand. After the departure of her beloved relative with her children and household members, Ritochka’s right eyelid twitches for a couple of weeks.
Last summer, a day after the next invasion of the Ural Polovtsians, Grebneva’s neighbor forgot to turn off the tap in her bathroom, and Margarita’s apartment was flooded. A friend called me at five in the morning and, interspersing her words with sobs, asked:
“I beg you, give us shelter for a day.” We are standing on the street with small children and two old people.
Now evaluate the situation. At that moment I lived alone in a huge house in the village of Lozhkino. The main part of my family, along with the dogs and cats, moved to France, where we have a cottage in a small place near Paris. True, I quite accidentally acquired new pets and hired a Ukrainian woman, Angela, as a housekeeper, but my bedroom is much larger than Rita’s entire apartment, and there are many empty rooms in the mansion near Moscow. Put yourself in my place: would you be tempted to refuse hospitality to a homeless family with three children or less? Of course, I brought all the “drowned people” to Lozhkino, where they liked it so much that the camp stayed with me for three months.
Then I took the noisy family to the airport and, waving a handkerchief after him, fell into euphoria. Only Rita's presence kept me from dancing a jig right next to the reception desk. Then I invited the cleaners, and they cleaned the house, bought a new set to replace the broken one, changed the carpet on the stairs, which the kids had burned with the help of the “Young Chemist” set, threw out the bed linen, which was thoroughly covered with brown spots (Zina’s mother-in-law is a big fan of drinking coffee in bed) , bought a new mirror instead of the one my friend’s father-in-law accidentally broke... Well, I won’t list all the damage now, it’s petty.
A month and a half after Zinaida’s departure, the house in Lozhkin acquired its previous appearance. Finally, I calmly exhaled, life flowed as usual. And then a week ago Ritulya came to me and insisted:
– My happiness depends only on you!
I hope you, knowing how the family of her Ural relatives stayed in my house, will not judge me for the fact that I immediately said to Grebneva:
– Ritulya, I’m sorry, I can’t discuss your problems now, I urgently need to pack my bags.
- You are leaving? – she gasped. - In Paris?
In general, I don’t know how to quickly come up with good reasons for refusing at the right time, but that day I showed amazing intelligence. The brain started working like a powerful supercomputer, and in a split second it calculated all the options. So, now it’s the very end of winter, which means Zinaida is off to Moscow again. Rita’s sister really liked it in Lozhkin, she wants to make me happy again with a visit. That’s why her mother-in-law said before leaving: “You have a wonderful plot, why don’t you plant a vegetable garden? When we return to Moscow in the spring, I will dig up a dozen beds in the clearing. It's sunny there, the cucumbers will grow quickly..."
As soon as I remembered her words, my tongue blurted out about leaving. But Rita decided not to give up and asked if I was flying to Paris. And what will happen if I answer, yes, as always, on a twelve-thirty flight from Sheremetyevo airport? It’s as if Grebneva will scream: “Please let my friends live in your house! They won’t bother anyone, the mansion will be empty anyway!” And then what do you want me to do?
The decision came in a second. I lowered my eyes and began to lie with an inspiration that Baron Munchausen could envy:
– Which Paris? I started renovating the cottage. A team of construction workers is coming here. Can you imagine the horror? I can’t receive guests; I have nowhere to go.
– Do you have somewhere to live for a couple of months? – she clarified.
- Yes Yes! – I confirmed. – I’m not planning anything radical, just a cosmetic update, I think... uh... to finish it by the beginning of autumn.
- And the animals? – Rita did not calm down. - Where are you going to take Athena and Hector?
Men are divided into two types: those who helpfully take their wife’s old fur coat to the dry cleaner, and those who buy their wife a new coat.
I turned to the windowsill and turned on the electric kettle. Maybe, having dropped in on the light without an invitation, the girl will finally realize that it’s high time for her to leave? Honestly, I no longer have the strength to listen to her moans.
“Dasha, what do you think,” the uninvited guest continued, “what is most important in a future wife?” Ability to earn money or non-conflict character?
“It’s best if the chosen one earns decent money and at the same time is a kind, non-greedy person,” I answered. And, defiantly looking at her watch, she exclaimed: “Wow!” How unnoticed half a day has flown by, and I still have so much to do!
“The worries won’t go away,” the guest waved her off, “especially those at home.” Why do you think I never have more than two dates with one guy? What am I doing wrong? Please pour me another cup of coffee.
I silently reached for the jar in which the grains were stored.
It is true what they say, there is nothing easier than making life difficult for yourself. A week ago, an old acquaintance, Rita Grebneva, rushed to me and, right from the doorway, without even having time to take off her boots, began babbling:
– If you don’t help, my happiness will collapse, and I will die under its rubble!
I know that Rita lives in a tiny one-room apartment, where even a not particularly obese rabbit would be cramped. But Grebneva has an older sister, Zinaida, who lives beyond the Ural Mountains, who sincerely believes that relatives should see each other as often as possible, and once every six months, at the end of winter and in August, she comes to the capital to hug her youngest. And since Zina is a family woman, who dearly loves her husband, three children and her father-in-law, she certainly takes the entire family with her.
How do so many people fit into twenty-five square meters? Well, the sister and her husband sleep on the sofa in the room, and the husband’s relatives settle down there, on the floor. The children are stacked in a pile in the kitchenette - the little son crawls under the table, and the sweetheart daughters snore at the stove and sink (it’s good that Grebneva’s nephews don’t go to school yet, but when they grow up, a problem will arise). Rita herself sits comfortably in the bath. True, the plumbing in the apartment is, to use the automotive term, small-sized, but this is sheer nonsense.
In previous centuries in France, the aristocracy believed that one should sleep exclusively in a semi-sitting position, which is very beneficial for health. The guide at the Palace of Versailles spoke about this, and I remember I almost burst into tears with pity for the unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette when I saw her bed. Since then, I have been tormented by the thought: what if all the recommendations of modern doctors are as erroneous as the advice of their colleagues from the time of Louis the Sixteenth? Maybe you shouldn’t lose weight, eat low-fat foods and torment yourself with sports? Suddenly, two or three hundred years later, some hundred and fifty kilogram Dashenka Vasilyeva, eating cakes with whipped cream, will shed tears of sympathy for her namesake from the twenty-first century, having learned that she ate lettuce leaves and rattled dumbbells, wanting to stay healthy, as future science will prove : fullness and ravenous appetite - a direct path to immortality? After all, we now know that we need to rest lying down, not sitting.
Although Marie Antoinette died quite healthy 1
Marie Antoinette, Queen of France, wife of Louis XVI, was condemned by the Convention in 1793 and executed by guillotine in Paris, on the square now called Place de la Concorde. – Here and below are notes from the author.
Well, I digressed from the main topic of the story, sorry.
As a rule, Zinaida lives with her sister for about a month. She and her husband work as web designers; they don’t need to go to work, as long as they have a laptop at hand. After the departure of her beloved relative with her children and household members, Ritochka’s right eyelid twitches for a couple of weeks.
Last summer, a day after the next invasion of the Ural Polovtsians, Grebneva’s neighbor forgot to turn off the tap in her bathroom, and Margarita’s apartment was flooded. A friend called me at five in the morning and, interspersing her words with sobs, asked:
“I beg you, give us shelter for a day.” We are standing on the street with small children and two old people.
Now evaluate the situation. At that moment I lived alone in a huge house in the village of Lozhkino. The main part of my family, along with the dogs and cats, moved to France, where we have a cottage in a small place near Paris. True, I acquired new pets quite by accident. 2
Read more in Daria Dontsova’s book “Ichthyander’s Swan Lake”, Eksmo Publishing House.
And I hired a Ukrainian woman, Angela, as a housekeeper, but my bedroom is much larger than Rita’s entire apartment, and there are many empty rooms in the mansion near Moscow. Put yourself in my place: would you be tempted to refuse hospitality to a homeless family with three children or less? Of course, I brought all the “drowned people” to Lozhkino, where they liked it so much that the camp stayed with me for three months.
Then I took the noisy family to the airport and, waving a handkerchief after him, fell into euphoria. Only Rita's presence kept me from dancing a jig right next to the reception desk. Then I invited the cleaners, and they cleaned the house, bought a new set to replace the broken one, changed the carpet on the stairs, which the kids had burned with the help of the “Young Chemist” set, threw out the bed linen, which was thoroughly covered with brown spots (Zina’s mother-in-law is a big fan of drinking coffee in bed) , bought a new mirror instead of the one my friend’s father-in-law accidentally broke... Well, I won’t list all the damage now, it’s petty.
A month and a half after Zinaida’s departure, the house in Lozhkin acquired its previous appearance. Finally, I calmly exhaled, life flowed as usual. And then a week ago Ritulya came to me and insisted:
– My happiness depends only on you!
I hope you, knowing how the family of her Ural relatives stayed in my house, will not judge me for the fact that I immediately said to Grebneva:
– Ritulya, I’m sorry, I can’t discuss your problems now, I urgently need to pack my bags.
- You are leaving? – she gasped. - In Paris?
In general, I don’t know how to quickly come up with good reasons for refusing at the right time, but that day I showed amazing intelligence. The brain started working like a powerful supercomputer, and in a split second it calculated all the options. So, now it’s the very end of winter, which means Zinaida is off to Moscow again. Rita’s sister really liked it in Lozhkin, she wants to make me happy again with a visit. That’s why her mother-in-law said before leaving: “You have a wonderful plot, why don’t you plant a vegetable garden? When we return to Moscow in the spring, I will dig up a dozen beds in the clearing. It's sunny there, the cucumbers will grow quickly..."
As soon as I remembered her words, my tongue blurted out about leaving. But Rita decided not to give up and asked if I was flying to Paris. And what will happen if I answer, yes, as always, on a twelve-thirty flight from Sheremetyevo airport? It’s as if Grebneva will scream: “Please let my friends live in your house! They won’t bother anyone, the mansion will be empty anyway!” And then what do you want me to do?
The decision came in a second. I lowered my eyes and began to lie with an inspiration that Baron Munchausen could envy:
– Which Paris? I started renovating the cottage. A team of construction workers is coming here. Can you imagine the horror? I can’t receive guests; I have nowhere to go.
– Do you have somewhere to live for a couple of months? – she clarified.
- Yes Yes! – I confirmed. – I’m not planning anything radical, just a cosmetic update, I think... uh... to finish it by the beginning of autumn.
- And the animals? – Rita did not calm down. - Where are you going to take Athena and Hector?
This question pretty much surprised me. Grebneva is not one of the people who love dogs and cats. No, she will never offend any of the smaller brothers, but she will not have a puppy or a kitten at home. Then why does she care about my pets? If I had thought about this topic a little longer, maybe I would have avoided the future troubles, but the supercomputer, tired of work, again turned into the brain of a simple blonde, so I said:
- They will go to Paris. And I, the unfortunate one, will have to live in a rented apartment, in terrible conditions. After all, as you yourself understand, they don’t rent out decent housing for a short period of time.
Having spoken out, I thought that I had saved myself from another visit from Zinaida with the camp, and I tried my best to keep a dejected expression on my face.
- That's great! – Ritulya suddenly exclaimed. - As good as it gets! I will help you, and you will help me. Complete coincidence of interests. Lord, I thought I’d have to beg you on my knees all day, and suddenly such luck!
I realized that I had made a fatal mistake by lying about the repairs. And Grebneva, shining like the May sun, quickly brought me up to date. But before I tell her story, I have to explain something.
I have a friend Sergei Nikolaev. His father, the former head physician of a large psychiatric hospital, died long ago. But the mother, Maya Mikhailovna, who worked all her life side by side with her husband, is healthy and still, despite her far from young age, continues to work. Sergei was married, but his marital relationship did not work out; the couple separated, lived apart for some time, then went to the registry office and became free people. I also know Rita well; we have been friends for several years. And it is not surprising that Sergei, having once arrived in Lozhkino, ran into Grebneva in my house. They immediately liked each other and began an affair.
Their candy-bouquet period had long passed, and everyone began to perceive Rita and Sergei as spouses. Everyone except Maya Mikhailovna, who did not want to have anything to do with Grebneva. The elderly lady got it into her head that Margarita Nikolaevna (that’s what she called my friend) was the reason for the divorce of her son, the naive Serezhenka, who fell victim to an insolent person who took him away from his lawful wife, and therefore considered Rita her worst enemy. Sergei tried to explain to his mother that his marriage had broken down long before he met Rita, but Maya Mikhailovna said sternly:
“You are no longer a child, and I have no right to scold an adult man, live with whoever you want, just don’t bring a slut into your mother’s house.”
But six months ago, Madame Nikolaeva unexpectedly changed her anger to mercy and allowed Rita to look at a cup of kefir. Grebneva did everything to please her potential mother-in-law, and achieved success - Maya Mikhailovna melted. Now she calls her son’s common-law wife “baby” and loves chatting with her on the phone. But the elderly lady has insomnia; due to her age, she only needs a few hours to rest, so conversations, as a rule, drag on past midnight. And Rita works as a doctor in a cardiology center, at eight in the morning she has to make rounds of patients, so she’s used to falling into bed no later than ten in the evening. After Maya Mikhailovna fell in love with Grebneva, the latter catastrophically does not get enough sleep. To honestly say to Sergei’s mother: “Sorry, I have to get up incredibly early tomorrow” - she is not capable, she does not want to anger the lady. Especially now, when Sergei invited Rita to go to the registry office - they decided to have a wedding in June.
In addition to her beloved son, Maya Mikhailovna has an adored cat named Rudolf Ivanovich, who she once picked up from a trash heap. Koshak has long forgotten the times when he slept on pipes in the basement, and considered a tank of garbage to be a restaurant with three Michelin stars 3
The Michelin Red Guide is the most influential of restaurant ratings. Has a three-star rating system. Produced since 1900
Now he eats only specially prepared dishes and sleeps on carefully fluffed featherbeds. And God forbid you call him:
- Rudy! Come here!
At best, he will ignore you, at worst, he will pee in the slippers of the one who dared to address His Highness so familiarly. The cat should be called respectfully:
- Rudolf Ivanovich, please, come and have tea and buns.
Better yet, serve him a cup directly in a velvet-lined basket. Are you surprised that a thirteen-pound cat loves tea? You just don’t know Rudolf Ivanovich! He also uses chewing gum to have fresh breath.
Rita is allergic to cats, but she, having swallowed antihistamine tablets, strokes the cat. And that one - what an amazement! – very nice to her.
Now Grebneva has to fly on a business trip to Yekaterinburg; she will spend about three weeks in this city. And the day before yesterday Sergei left for a tour of Russia - Rituli’s future husband is the head of the PR service of a large businessman who desperately wanted to become a deputy. There are elections ahead, we need to win over voters, so Nikolaev will not return to Moscow before the end of March. And everything would have been fine if Maya Mikhailovna had not slipped yesterday. The old woman fell and broke her leg. Rita immediately placed her in the best clinic in the capital and hired a nurse. Sergei’s mother lies in the private medical center “Surgery”, in a separate, well-equipped room that looks like an expensive hotel room, food is delivered to her from the restaurant, caring medical staff is ready to satisfy the patient’s every whim. However, there is one “but”: she was not allowed to take the cat with her.
Maya Mikhailovna said to Rita:
- Baby, will you help me out? Will you give up the business trip and live with the boy? I will forever be grateful to you. If not, I will leave the hospital. Let my leg stop moving, which means I’ll sit in a wheelchair, and I’ll never leave Rudolf Ivanovich. He alone will die! Who will prepare him a steamed veal soufflé with tender artichokes and savoy cabbage?
The doctors present during the conversation almost died when they heard about the dish they feed the cat, but they firmly stated:
“It’s better for Mrs. Nikolaeva to stay with us; at this age, a fracture is a dangerous thing.”
What could Rita do? She vowed to not give a damn about her work, to live in the apartment of her future mother-in-law in order to cherish the cat and every evening at exactly twenty-two zero-zero to report to the lady about how her “son” spent the day. Thank God, Maya Mikhailovna does not know how to use a computer, the Skype program is not available to her, and she did not demand that Rudolf Ivanovich’s impudent face be shown to her six times a day.
Are you assessing the current situation? Sergei cannot return to Moscow, because he will lose his job if he leaves the businessman. Patients are waiting for the capital's doctor Grebneva in Yekaterinburg; she has no right to leave them to their fate. So what should I do? There is no way to hire a person to look after the cat - Rudolf Ivanovich cannot tolerate strangers and will instantly drive even the most beautiful nanny out of the house. And if suddenly Maya Mikhailovna finds out that the cat lived alone and was visited only to feed and wash the tray, she will instantly hate her future daughter-in-law again...
So Ritulya rushed to me in Lozhkino with an offer to live in the apartment of an ill madam. Why not solve the problem? Rudolf Ivanovich treats me favorably, I am not a stranger to him, I remember the day when he appeared as a pitiful skinny kitten in the Nikolaev family. Grebneva prepared to fall on her face in front of me, bang her head on the floor, promising anything for the favor. And what did you hear before you had time to make your request? A friend is planning to do some renovations, she is going to rent some kind of shack in order to stay there while painting the walls and sanding the floors, she is worried in advance about the poor conditions in which she will find herself. Well, wow, how perfectly everything worked out! Hooray! Hooray! The drums are beating! The timpani are sounding!
Ritochka jumped with happiness and repeated:
- It turned out great! Maya, of course, is a mischief-maker, loves to hold her fingers like a Chinese fan, always insists that she has a son, a cat, a house, and in general everything is the best, and I am a mongrel who was let in from the street to warm up. But I don't care about that. The main thing is that Maya doesn’t cause any scandals before Sergei and I get married. And then we’ll see whose Chinese fan will be cooler, hers or mine!
I could only blink silently, watching Rita’s glee. There was no way to retreat; I had painted myself into a corner.
Chapter 2
In the huge, noisy, never-falling Moscow, there are protected corners of paradise that many native capital residents are not aware of. Maya Mikhailovna was lucky to find a job in just such a place. She lives in a small gingerbread house, which is located in an old park, where no outsiders are allowed, because the oasis with trees and flower beds is the territory belonging to a psychiatric hospital. Or rather, the clinic was called that way earlier, in the Soviet years, when Sergei’s father, Oleg Mikhailovich, was its head physician. The elder Nikolaev considered work to be the most important thing in life and lived next to the hospital in a specially built cottage, which Maya Mikhailovna managed to register as property in 1993.
In the mid-nineties, a psychiatric hospital somehow became a private institution where neuroses were treated for big money. Boris Pavlovich, the current owner of the clinic, and at the same time its head physician, dispersed the previous doctors and nursing staff, but did not touch Maya Mikhailovna, because he once studied in graduate school with Oleg Mikhailovich and is grateful to the scientific director. The widow of the former chief physician worked as a nurse for some time, and then she was appointed a wardrobe maid, responsible for linen, pillows, blankets, robes, slippers, and so on. Boris Pavlovich could not have made a better choice - the old woman is honest to the point of idiocy, to this day she considers the hospital the brainchild of her late husband and zealously monitors the household. But I didn’t know that she also works as a freelance psychotherapist.
Before I had time to enter the house and look around, there was a knock on the door, a girl about thirty years old appeared and exclaimed in disappointment:
- Who are you? Where is Mayechka Michalna?
Having learned that the owner of the house had broken her leg yesterday, the guest gasped, then unceremoniously sat down in a chair and said:
– My name is Elya, Mayechka and I are best friends. Why are you here?
I was afraid that the unexpected guest would, at the first opportunity, tell the old woman that it was not Rita who had settled in her house, but me. So she quickly chirped:
“Ritochka Grebneva, my closest friend, will spend the night here and take care of Rudolf Ivanovich, and she asked me to stay here during the day so that the cat would not suffer from loneliness.
But Elya seemed to have ignored my speech.
“Mayechka is always ready to give a person valuable advice, but since she’s not there, you’ll probably be able to figure out my difficult life situation,” she said.
And I had to listen to Eli’s moans on the topic: “Why are all my friends married for a long time, but no one needs me alone?”
“I cook better than any cook,” she lamented, “I take care of myself, not an ounce of excess weight, manicure-pedicure-hairstyle, I have a good salary, my own apartment - I got a big two-room apartment from my grandmother, I’m a Muscovite in the one hundred and twenty-fifth generation, smart.” , intelligent. Not a woman, but just a bar of gold! No, platinum!
“Then it’s better to say rhodium.” 4
Rhodium is one of the most expensive metals in the world, valued higher than gold and platinum.
“I muttered.
- What? – Elya didn’t understand. And after a second she continued: “Yes, I’m an angel, not a man!” But there is no man nearby. Do you think I'm being capricious? Did you climb straight up? Do I want rich, famous, with a deputy badge? No, I don't need one like that! Give me an ordinary one! And what happens? Everything goes great on the first date. On the second one, at my home, everything also seems to be fine at first. But when you invite a man to your place and treat him to the amazing dinner you have prepared, he, of course, understands that after coffee and cake he needs to move on to a new stage of the relationship. And so I go to the bathroom, I come back all so fragrant, sexy, breasts of the fourth size, and my own, not silicone, and the gentleman has disappeared without a trace. Escaped! I start calling him, but he doesn’t answer the phone. And the next day I hear from the phone: “This number is not in service...” You know, the day before yesterday our cleaning lady, Farida, got married. A Tajik woman who recently arrived in Moscow, doesn’t know how to use a knife and fork, but she found, found, found herself a guy! He manages the computers at the clinic, has a higher education, living space, a car, and is an orphan. Why is Farida, who can’t string together three words in Russian, lucky, but I’m not? Answer please!
– Maybe because she is not capable of chatting non-stop for two hours straight? – I couldn’t restrain myself again.
But Elya, it seems, did not know how to listen to her interlocutor at all and asked the following question:
- Are you married?
“No,” I answered honestly.
- But did you go out at least once? – the guest did not calm down.
“I tried to start a family four times,” I admitted, “and then I realized that I would live better without a stamp in my passport.”
“Four husbands...” Elya drawled with envy. - How did you force them to go to the registry office?
“We ran there ourselves,” I smiled, “I didn’t drag anyone on the lasso.” And after the first divorce, I was sure that I should never go to the registry office. But you see how it turned out.
- Is there anyone there now? – the chatterbox eagerly asked.
“Yes,” I admitted, “a very pleasant person, Professor Manevin.”
- So what, he’s asking you to get married too? – she did not calm down.
I smiled.
– Yes, I proposed, but I’m not yet ready to change the status of a free woman to the yoke of a married lady. Although, to be completely honest, I like Felix. He has two pugs. Wonderful dogs, one is black.
- That’s why I need you! – Elya jumped. - Please help me!
– I would be glad, but how? – I was surprised.
– Maya Mikhailovna is happy to give out advice, but what does she know about men? Immediately after school, I got married and lived happily for a hundred years. She answers every question with the phrase: “Here is my Oleg Mikhailovich...” Of course, Mayechka is smart, but I have the impression that she is phenomenally lucky. She and her husband were eerily similar, they even had the same middle name. I used Maya's advice, but it doesn't work! Understand?
Dasha Vasilyeva: Lover of private investigation Dasha Vasilyeva- 44
Chapter 1
Men are divided into two types: those who helpfully take their wife’s old fur coat to the dry cleaner, and those who buy their wife a new coat.
I turned to the windowsill and turned on the electric kettle. Maybe, having dropped in on the light without an invitation, the girl will finally realize that it’s high time for her to leave? Honestly, I no longer have the strength to listen to her moans.
“Dasha, what do you think,” the uninvited guest continued, “what is most important in a future wife?” Ability to earn money or non-conflict character?
It’s best if the chosen one earns decent money and at the same time is a kind, non-greedy person,” I answered. And, defiantly looking at her watch, she exclaimed: “Wow!” How unnoticed half a day has flown by, and I still have so much to do!
The worries won’t go away,” the guest waved her off, “especially those at home.” Why do you think I never have more than two dates with one guy? What am I doing wrong? Please pour me another cup of coffee.
I silently reached for the jar in which the grains were stored.
It is true what they say, there is nothing easier than making life difficult for yourself. A week ago, an old acquaintance, Rita Grebneva, rushed to me and, right from the doorway, without even having time to take off her boots, began babbling:
If you don't help, my happiness will collapse and I will die under its rubble!
I know that Rita lives in a tiny one-room apartment, where even a not particularly obese rabbit would be cramped. But Grebneva has an older sister, Zinaida, who lives beyond the Ural Mountains, who sincerely believes that relatives should see each other as often as possible, and once every six months, at the end of winter and in August, she comes to the capital to hug her youngest. And since Zina is a family woman, who dearly loves her husband, three children and her father-in-law, she certainly takes the entire family with her.
How do so many people fit into twenty-five square meters? Well, the sister and her husband sleep on the sofa in the room, and the husband’s relatives settle down there, on the floor. The children are stacked in a pile in the kitchenette - the little son crawls under the table, and the little daughters snore at the stove and sink (it’s good that Grebneva’s nephews don’t go to school yet, but when they grow up, a problem will arise). Rita herself sits comfortably in the bath. True, the plumbing in the apartment is, to use the automotive term, small-sized, but this is sheer nonsense.
In previous centuries in France, the aristocracy believed that one should sleep exclusively in a semi-sitting position, which is very beneficial for health. The guide at the Palace of Versailles spoke about this, and I remember I almost burst into tears with pity for the unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette when I saw her bed. Since then, I have been tormented by the thought: what if all the recommendations of modern doctors are as erroneous as the advice of their colleagues from the time of Louis the Sixteenth? Maybe you shouldn’t lose weight, eat low-fat foods and torment yourself with sports? Suddenly, two or three hundred years later, some hundred and fifty kilogram Dashenka Vasilyeva, eating cakes with whipped cream, will shed tears of sympathy for her namesake from the twenty-first century, having learned that she ate lettuce leaves and rattled dumbbells, wanting to stay healthy, as future science will prove : fullness and ravenous appetite - a direct path to immortality? After all, we now know that we need to rest lying down, not sitting. Although Marie Antoinette died quite healthy. Well, I digressed from the main topic of the story, sorry.
As a rule, Zinaida lives with her sister for about a month. She and her husband work as web designers; they don’t need to go to work, as long as they have a laptop at hand. After the departure of her beloved relative with her children and household members, Ritochka’s right eyelid twitches for a couple of weeks.
Last summer, a day after the next invasion of the Ural Polovtsians, Grebneva’s neighbor forgot to turn off the tap in her bathroom, and Margarita’s apartment was flooded.
