I was rushing to the maternity hospital to see my sister and, on the run, tossed some change to a gypsy woman with a baby at the gate. But she unexpectedly blocked my path, gripped my wrist tightly, and whispered, “Wait here.” I froze, not understanding. And five minutes later, I saw something that made my legs give way.
Katya woke up to her phone ringing while it was still dark. Her hand instinctively reached for the nightstand, her fingers finding the vibrating screen. Through her sleep, she made out the name on the display: “Mom.”
“Hello,” she mumbled, pressing the phone to her ear and closing her eyes.
“Katyush, Lenka gave birth!” her mother’s voice rang with joy. “A boy, 3700 grams, so healthy.”
Sleep vanished instantly. Katya sat up abruptly in bed, trying not to wake Andrey, who was sniffling softly beside her.
“Really? When? How is she?”
“She gave birth during the night, at three o’clock. Everything went well, but she’s tired, of course. I’m on my way to her now, are you coming?”
“Of course, I’ll come!” Katya had already jumped out of bed, pulling on her robe as she moved. “Mom, I’ll get ready now and head over too.”
She hung up and leaned against the cold wall in the hallway, feeling a warm wave of joy spread inside her. Lena had given birth. Her younger sister was now a mother. And she was an aunt. A nephew!
In the bathroom, Katya splashed cold water on her face, studying her reflection in the mirror. 32 years old, dark shoulder-length hair, gray eyes. An ordinary face, as she’d always thought. Not a beauty, but not ugly either. Lena was prettier: more striking, with big blue eyes and light curls. As children, Katya had sometimes envied her younger sister, but that passed. Each had her own life, her own path.
She quickly washed her face, hastily combed her hair, and returned to the bedroom. Andrey was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep.
“Lena gave birth. A boy!” Katya couldn’t hold back a smile. “I’m going to the maternity hospital to see my nephew.”
“Congratulations!” Andrey yawned and stretched. “When are you going?”
“I’ll get ready now. Don’t you want to come with me?”
He shook his head, getting out of bed.
“No, I have to go to work early today. And what would I do there? Men aren’t allowed in the maternity ward anyway. You go, send my congratulations.”
Katya nodded. She wasn’t offended; Andrey had never been particularly close with her family. Polite, of course, but he kept his distance. Besides, he was a man who kept to himself, not very talkative. When they met three years ago at a corporate party of mutual acquaintances, that’s what had attracted Katya: his calmness, reliability, and lack of ostentatious emotion.
She dressed quickly: jeans, a warm sweater, a jacket over it. It was still cold outside, although it was mid-April. Katya grabbed her bag, shoved her wallet and phone inside.
“I’m off,” she said, peeking into the kitchen where Andrey had already turned on the kettle.
“Okay,” he turned and unexpectedly came over, hugging her by the shoulders. “Don’t worry so much, everything’s fine.”
“I’m not worried, I’m happy,” she pressed against him for a second, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
“Well, that’s great. See you tonight…”
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