She stopped short, surprised by my calmness. She glanced suspiciously at the folder, then at me.
— What is this?
— This is the conclusion from the head of the department at the regional hospital. Read how your little astronaut son has been draining the life and money out of me for the last six months with his doctor friend. Read it carefully. Especially the part where it says “clinically healthy.”
She opened the folder with doubt. Her eyes scanned the lines. As she read, her face elongated, turned pale, her confidence replaced by confusion, and then horror. She reread the last line of the conclusion several times, then looked up at me, her eyes no longer filled with anger, only shock.
At that moment, the toilet door creaked open, and a green, exhausted Pavel crawled out, holding onto the wall.
— Mom! — he groaned.
I didn’t give Vera Andreevna a chance to recover. I walked to the front door and threw it wide open.
— Out! — I said quietly, but in a way that every word cut the air. — You have fifteen minutes to pack your little astronaut son’s things and leave my apartment. The clock is ticking!
Vera Andreevna opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.
— One more word, and I’m calling the police. And I’ll file a report right now for large-scale fraud by a group of persons with prior conspiracy. I think a prison bed will do your Pashenka some good. They have real doctors there, and the treatment is free.
My mother-in-law shut her mouth. She looked at her son, who stood leaning against the wall, pathetic and destroyed, then at me—cold, calm, unyielding—and understood that the game was over.
Silently, without looking me in the eye, she went into the bedroom and started gathering Pavel’s things into a bag. He trailed after her. Ten minutes later, they were standing at the door. Vera Andreevna was carrying the bag, Pavel didn’t raise his eyes.
— The keys, — I said, holding out my hand.
With a trembling hand, he pulled the set of keys from his pocket and placed them in my palm. They stepped out onto the landing. I slammed the door behind them and turned the lock, then another one, and the chain.
I leaned my back against the door in my empty, quiet apartment. The circus had left town. I stood there and breathed deeply and freely for the first time in a very long time.
Comments are closed.