— Dad, did you see that cool car parked by our entrance?!” — Zhenya burst into the apartment, her hair tousled like a sparrow’s, and then froze. There was a woman in the room with her father. He was holding her hand and didn’t let go, even when his daughter entered. Zhenya immediately forgot about the car.
— “Who is she?” — the girl frowned, staring openly at the stranger.
— “Zhenya, sweetheart,” — it was clear that her father was nervous, but the woman was calmly stroking his hand. — “This is Katya, my special lady. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to her.”
— “Special lady?! How could you?!” — Zhenya’s insides boiled. — “Don’t tell me she’s going to live with us!” — What was this Katya nonsense? Her mother had died only three years ago! How could he bring some strange woman into their home?
— “Evgeniya,” — her father frowned, — “Don’t make me embarrassed. Katya is wonderful. I hope you two will become friends. She’ll move in after our wedding.”
— “Wedding?! Dad, are you really going to get married?!” — The news caught Zhenya completely off guard. Her father had wanted to ease into it, but it didn’t work out. The impulsive teenager combined with the lack of experience in talking about delicate matters with his daughter turned the introduction into a problem.
— “Yes, we are planning a wedding, daughter,” — her father nodded. — “I’m sure you two will get along.”
— “What, she doesn’t have her own apartment? What does she want here, dad?!” — Zhenya clenched her fists.
— “She has her own apartment. And, by the way, the car outside is hers too.”
— “Well, then let her live in her own apartment! What does she need here?!” — The girl’s voice grew hysterical.
She turned abruptly, stormed into her room, slammed the door behind her, threw herself onto the bed, and faced the wall. Tears rolled down her face, wetting the pillow, but Zhenya didn’t care. She didn’t even look when her father came to her room, knocked, and received no answer.
— “Zhenya, what’s going on?” — he sat down on her bed and put his hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged her shoulder and shook his hand off. Then she turned sharply to face him.
— “How could you? This is betrayal! What about Mom? You said you loved her!”
— “Zhenya,” — her father said gently, — “Mom is no longer with us, and you know that. Of course, I loved her, and I always will. But life goes on. Katya is really nice. You’ll get along. I’m sorry it happened this way. You know, I’m not good at being tactful… But Katya… She’ll teach me to be more gentle.” — He reached out to stroke his daughter’s head, but she pulled away.
— “I’m not going to live with her! She’s nobody to me!” — Zhenya turned away to the wall again. Her father sighed and left the room.
— “So?!” — Katya greeted him at the door. — “Is she sulking?”
He nodded.
— “Sergey, don’t worry, everything will work out. She’s at that age, it’s just a phase,” — Katya reassured him. — “She’ll need time. Let’s let her stay at my place for now. I’ll come to visit on weekends.”
— “Yes, that’s probably better.”
Time passed, and Zhenya’s attitude toward her future stepmother remained unchanged. She ignored Katya, didn’t answer her questions, and didn’t respond to her requests. When Katya complimented her, even for the smallest achievements, Zhenya would just scoff in contempt.
“She’s wasting her time!” — Zhenya thought, — “She’s so fake! This is just to try to win Dad over. Soon, she’ll try too hard. She’s picked the wrong person!”
When her father bought Zhenya something she’d wanted, she would be overjoyed like a little child.
— “Katya helped me pick it out,” — Sergey might casually mention, and Zhenya’s mood would change immediately. She would toss the item into the closet and never take it out again.
At the end of the school year, Sergey and Katya decided that they should renovate the apartment before the wedding.
— “Zhenya is already grown up. And it wouldn’t hurt to update the other furniture as well,” — Katya suggested. — “She’s outgrown those childish bear wallpaper.”
— “Yes, but where will she stay during this time?” — Sergey thought for a moment. — “Here is not an option. My mother lives in another city, and they don’t get along too well…”
— “What if we send her to my mom’s place? She wouldn’t mind,” — Katya suggested enthusiastically. — “It’s such a nice place, fresh air, a lake nearby, fruits, berries. Just for a while.”
— “That’s a good idea!” — Sergey agreed. — “At least she won’t be breathing dust and paint fumes. And when she comes back, she’ll have her room all refreshed.”
In the evening, Sergey went to talk to his daughter.
— “Zhenya, we decided with Katya to send you to her mom’s for the summer. Zoya Stepanovna is a wonderful woman. And we’ll do some renovations here. You remember, our wedding is in October, and we want everything to be updated and ready for this new chapter of our lives.”
— “Dad, I don’t want to go anywhere!” — Zhenya protested. Katya didn’t seem so scary to her anymore, but some old woman in the countryside?! — “Do your renovations, I have nothing to do with it!”
— “Daughter, you know you’re allergic to all these paints, putties, and plasters. Remember how you looked when they decided to paint the doors at school?” — her father reminded her of the time when Zhenya’s eyes turned into tiny slits between swollen, inflamed eyelids.
Zhenya shuddered at the memory of how her itchy eyelids had burned. But that didn’t convince her.
— “I don’t want to go anywhere,” — she repeated angrily. — “Especially to some unknown old lady.”
— “Zhenya, don’t worry. Zoya Stepanovna is a wonderful woman. You’ll see.”
Zhenya got so angry at her father that she ran out of the house and wandered the streets until nightfall. Sergey called her phone endlessly, contacted all her friends, and even thought about going to the police. When Zhenya finally came home, she smelled like energy drinks.
Her father had never seen her in such a state.
— “Tomorrow, you’ll pack your things, and we’ll take you to Zoya Stepanovna’s. If you don’t agree, then you’ll be going to a camp for troubled teens!” — Sergey realized that he had to be firm, or his daughter would lose all sense of responsibility.
The whole next day, Zhenya was being rude, responding with short answers like “yes,” “no,” “I don’t know,” barely picking at her food at the table, dramatically sighing for no reason and rolling her eyes whenever the conversation turned to her departure. But that day was inevitably approaching, and soon Zhenya was carrying her backpack with her things to Katya’s car.
For a brief moment, the girl forgot her hatred for her father’s girlfriend, watching as Katya skillfully drove the car. Zhenya even caught herself thinking that she was a bit jealous of Katya—after all, her father couldn’t drive. In fact, he had never even sat behind the wheel.
Zhenya snapped out of it when the city was left behind, and the car turned onto a country road. Fidgeting in the back seat, she called out to her father:
— Dad, I don’t understand, where are we going?
— Just a little longer, we’re almost there, — Sergey reassured his daughter.
The car entered some village, drove down the main and only street, and stopped in front of a small blue house with a red roof.
— We’re here! — Sergey clapped his hands. — Zhenya, let’s get out.
— What, am I going to live in a village? — the girl asked in shock, looking around.
— What’s wrong with the village, mademoiselle? — a strict female voice asked.
A tall woman, whom one could hardly call an old lady, came out to greet them. With her straight posture, she looked more like a school principal than a village granny.
— Zoya Stepanovna, meet your helper, — Sergey put his arm around Zhenya’s shoulders and gently pushed her forward.
— Well, hello, Zhenya, — Zoya Stepanovna gave the girl an assessing look. — Welcome to my hut. We’ll have lunch, get to know each other, and then your parents will head back, they’ve got a lot to do.
The lunch went by in silence. Zhenya didn’t touch her food.
— Sergey, you go to the city, I’ll manage.
— But if…
— Don’t worry, — Zoya Stepanovna’s voice and her father’s were barely audible to Zhenya. She sat in her room, thinking the whole world was against her.
Her father and Katya said goodbye to the upset Zhenya, got in the car, and quickly disappeared from sight.
— Settle in, you can walk around, maybe visit the lake. Dinner’s at 6. Don’t be late.
Zhenya just snorted. Putting on her headphones, she lay down on the couch. She didn’t even think about leaving her room at 6 or 6:30. Another half hour passed before Zoya Stepanovna knocked and entered her room.
— I gather you’re not hungry. Fine, then let’s go, you’ll help me with the dishes.
— I didn’t come here to be your servant, — Zhenya snapped, — and I’m not obligated to help you.
— Okay, — Zoya Stepanovna shrugged and left the room.
The next morning, Zhenya was awakened by the rooster’s crow.
She listened, and when the old lady went to the garden, she slipped out of her “prison,” where her father and his girlfriend had locked her. Her stomach growled from hunger. Zhenya regretted not having dinner when they had called her.
“Well, never mind,” she thought, “I’m a guest, and guests must be fed. There must be something edible in the fridge.”
But there was no fridge in the kitchen.
— Well, this is great! — Zhenya looked around in confusion. She checked one cupboard, then another, lifted the lid of the pot on the stove — it was empty.
— Did you lose something?
Zhenya didn’t hear how Zoya Stepanovna entered the house. She even jumped in surprise.
— Nothing, — Zhenya muttered.
— Well, nothing, so nothing, — Zoya Stepanovna shrugged and headed for the door.
— I’m hungry! — Zhenya said louder and frowned, watching her leave.
— Breakfast already happened, you overslept. Lunch is in two hours. I don’t have time to cook — I’ve got a lot to do in the garden. You’re not planning to help. So, you’ll have to wait, — Zoya Stepanovna replied sternly.
After enduring those two hours, Zhenya stormed into the kitchen. There was no sign of lunch. The hostess sat on a chair, rubbing her back and wincing, as if she was in pain.
— Sorry, my back’s acting up. If it’s not too much trouble, could you peel some potatoes? We’ll fry them later. There’s a box under the table.
Zhenya almost screamed. “Old hag! You’ve found yourself a free servant!” — she cursed the annoying old lady. “She thinks she can get away with this!”
But she was really hungry, so she ended up peeling the potatoes.
— Look at you, a real professional! — Zoya Stepanovna exclaimed, genuinely impressed by the thin, lace-like peel Zhenya had removed. — Even I can’t do that!
“Flattering,” Zhenya thought, but the praise warmed her heart.
Half an hour later, she was working with a fork, not noticing the sly look of the “nasty old lady.”
Day by day, Zoya Stepanovna involved Zhenya more in the work around the garden. At first, the girl would resist and snap back. She even sent her father a voice message:
— You got rid of me on purpose, — she yelled into the phone, — you don’t love me anymore! It’s all because of that woman of yours! I live here like a slave: plant the garden, pull the weeds, bring the water. I hate you!
— Okay. I’ll come. Hang in there until the weekend, — her father replied.
He and Katya discussed it and decided that if the girl couldn’t get used to it, there was no point in forcing her.
On Thursday evening, after a long day, Zhenya sat on the porch, watching the sunset. She dreamed of being anywhere but here. Suddenly, Zoya Stepanovna sat next to her.
— Are you angry? — she asked calmly. — Why? Can you explain?
— I’m not obligated to… — Zhenya started, but as she looked at the woman sitting next to her, she fell silent. Zoya Stepanovna looked at her so kindly, just like her mother used to. Zhenya’s heart tightened, and tears filled her eyes.
— It’s okay to cry, — Zoya Stepanovna hugged her. — It’s normal. I understand everything: you think your father stopped loving you. That he betrayed your mother. But imagine that in three years you’ll graduate from school, maybe go to another city, enroll in university, make a lot of new friends, and you’ll remember your father only once a week at best — and at worst, only when you run out of money. And he will be left alone. Do you think it will be easy for him? He will die from loneliness. A person needs to love and be loved. Your father loves my daughter. And she’s not as bad as you think. Everything she has, she earned herself. And there’s a lot to learn from her. Of course, she can’t replace your mother, but she could become a good friend. Think about it. And I know you’re not as you want to seem. You’re a smart girl, just too many problems have fallen on your shoulders. But sometimes you need to see adults not through the lens of the prejudices in fairy tales, but soberly and objectively.
Zoya Stepanovna kissed the girl on the top of her head and went into the house, leaving her alone. Zhenya felt like the weight that had been on her soul ever since Katya entered her life was slowly lifting along with her tears.
The next day in the village passed unnoticed. Zhenya seemed to have been reborn. The work in the garden didn’t feel like a burden anymore, and Zoya Stepanovna didn’t seem like the nasty old lady anymore.
— I made you pancakes with raspberry cream. Homemade sour cream, all natural. Let’s have breakfast.
— You have a cow? A real one?! — Zhenya exclaimed.
— There’s a farm nearby. My neighbor’s husband works there. If you want, we can go, I’ll show you what rural life is like.
— Do they have horses?
— I think they used to have one, a mare… — Zoya Stepanovna smiled slyly, and Zhenya was thrilled.
When Sergey and Katya arrived, neither the girls nor the future mother-in-law were home.
— Either my daughter walked into town by herself…
— Or they’ve found a common language, — Katya said, seeing how mother and stepdaughter were walking down the country road, laughing, with ice creams in their hands.
— I don’t even want to leave, — Zhenya said quietly when she saw her father. — Ivan Mikhailovich promised to teach me how to ride a horse!
— You can stay. The renovation’s not finished yet. — Sergey was surprised at the changes in his daughter.
— Stay, Zhenya. We haven’t even finished pulling all the carrots, — Katya’s mother laughed and winked at Zhenya.
Three more weeks passed happily. The girl met peers who came to stay with their grandmothers for the summer, and even got to practice horseback riding a little. She didn’t want to leave at all.
But the renovation was finished, and Zoya Stepanovna’s vacation was also over.
The updated room thrilled the girl. She already knew that Katya had designed it.
— Thank you! — Zhenya shyly approached her, unsure if she should hug her. Then Katya herself hugged her, and Sergey hugged them both, spinning them around the room, saying:
— My favorite girls! Everything will be fine!
Zhenya smiled, looking at the children’s book about Cinderella. Sometimes stepdaughters need to work and help out; maybe then even stepmothers will be kinder?