Lyudmila felt something snap inside her. Not anger, not resentment. Something else, cold and calm. She looked at her husband, who hadn’t even tried to listen to her, and at her mother-in-law, whose eyes sparkled in anticipation of a scandal.
— Zinaida Ivanovna found my money. In my bag. In my bedroom, which you took from me. Oleg, this money is mine. Only mine.
— There’s nothing personal in a marriage, — her husband barked. — Everything is shared. And you hid it. We could have done renovations. We could have helped Mom. But you hide it.
— We could have helped Mom, — Lyudmila repeated quietly. — I see. Now everything is clear.
— Of course, — Zinaida Ivanovna stepped forward. — I have nothing. I’m a burden on you. And my daughter-in-law has a fortune stashed away.
— We’re going to the bank, — Oleg said decisively. — Mom, get dressed. We’ll go right now and open a deposit account in your name. So it doesn’t get lost and so it can earn interest.
— That’s right, sonny, — the mother-in-law scurried into the hallway.
Lyudmila stood and watched as her husband pulled on his jacket. As her mother-in-law draped her precious shawl over her shoulders. As they exchanged glances, took the bag of money, and headed for the door.
— Are you serious? — she asked.
— Very serious. — Oleg didn’t even turn around. — Enough secrets. Get back to your salad.
The door slammed shut. Lyudmila was left alone in the kitchen. The boiled carrots were cooling on the board, the mayonnaise sat on the table. The sausage was waiting for its turn.
And she laughed. She laughed so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks. Not from grief, but from relief and the absurdity of the situation.
She returned to the salad, picked up the knife, and continued chopping. She chopped the carrots, potatoes, and cucumbers. Mixed them, dressed them with mayonnaise. Put it in the refrigerator. Put the kettle on. Sat down at the table and poured herself some tea.
Time passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen, twenty. The phone exploded with a call. Oleg was yelling so loudly the speaker crackled.
— Lyudmila, what is this fake money? Do you realize what you’ve done? The bank said it’s play money! Souvenirs! They laughed at us! Mom almost fainted. Are you mocking me?
Lyudmila took a sip of tea. Hot, sweet, just right…
Comments are closed.