I’m pregnant again, Zhenya joyfully announced to her parents at breakfast. I’m going to have a baby because children are such a happiness.
What do you mean you’re pregnant, Maxim Nikolayevich choked on his scrambled eggs. Zhenya, your first child is growing up without a father and under our full care. Where do you expect a second one?
And what do you suggest? Zhenya jumped up from the chair. Keep in mind, this child will be born no matter what you say. I want many children.
Zhenya, but you are not able to provide for them, her mother Margarita Sergeyevna said confusedly. Your father and I are both forty-four, and we are not ready to become grandparents a second time. I’ve already spent a year on maternity leave because of you and Vova.
Mom, don’t be selfish, Zhenya protested. You only think about yourself.
Zhenya was the only child of her young, progressive parents. Four years ago, they were a quite happy family. Their daughter, a student, was successfully mastering her university program.
Her parents were glad to have paid off the mortgage and no longer had to work themselves to exhaustion. But one day, the second-year student Zhenya confessed to her parents that she was pregnant.
How come, daughter, Maxim Nikolayevich gasped. Who’s the father? Does he even know about the baby?
My classmate, Vitya, Zhenya sighed. He’s ready to acknowledge paternity. But his mother forbids him to marry, says it’s too early.
What a sensible stance, Maxim Nikolayevich admired. You should have something forbidden to you as well. But now that it’s done, there’s no turning back, you will have to raise the child.
It’s okay, I’ll give birth, and Mom will take maternity leave with the baby, Zhenya smiled at them. It’s done that way, girls do it all the time. I’ll get my diploma and find a job.
Wait, why on earth should I sit on maternity leave? Margarita Sergeyevna asked her daughter. I was promised a promotion, and with your ideas, they’ll fire me or give my position to a competitor.
Mom, you don’t want me to end up without a diploma, do you? Zhenya asked whimsically. Besides, other parents are happy about new additions. But you just scold me. How can you treat a pregnant woman like that?
Margarita Sergeyevna and Maxim Nikolayevich discussed the situation and came to terms with it. Of course, they did not plan to become grandparents so early.
But there was nothing to be done, so they had to accept it. They renovated Zhenya’s room, bought a crib, and all the necessary baby stuff.
Seven months later, little Volodya was born into the family. At first, Zhenya was amused by her son; she played with him, took walks, fed him.
A couple of times, the new father even came to their home, smiling awkwardly. Vitya brought some insignificant amounts of money, once he brought a pack of diapers. This miserable excuse for a father looked as pitiful as possible.
Then Zhenya got tired of staying home with the baby. She more and more often asked her mother and father to let her go out or visit friends. Then suddenly she decided to resume her studies.
She moved into a rented room with a friend, leaving Volodya with his grandparents. At first, they didn’t even realize Zhenya had moved out. And when they did, it was too late.
What do you mean you’re studying again, and I have to take parental leave? Margarita Sergeyevna asked her daughter. You know I have a job.
I’m busy now too, Zhenya waved her off. You yourselves told me I must get an education and a profession. So, that’s what I’m doing, but you still don’t like it.
Actually, we expected you to put the child in daycare first, and then continue your studies, Margarita Sergeyevna answered irritably. But apparently, those hopes were in vain.
I’m tired of sitting with him. Vovka listens to you but not to me, Zhenya whined. Enough arguing.
Come back home immediately, demanded Margarita Sergeyevna. At least take care of your son in the evenings, please.
Mom, he interferes with my studies, Zhenya protested. Let me babysit him on weekends sometimes.
Margarita looked at her daughter and then just waved her off. Talking was pointless. They barely managed to keep Volodya in daycare; Margarita Sergeyevna even quit her job to take care of her grandson.
A year later, Zhenya dropped out of college again, saying she had changed her mind about becoming a marketer. She decided to become a brow specialist, finishing a week-long course at a nearby beauty salon. That was too much for Maxim Nikolayevich.
What kind of courses? he shouted. You’re already riding on our necks with your mother, and now you’ve added a child to the burden. Meanwhile, you’re wandering from club to club, from party to party.
I’ll get a job, Zhenya declared to her father. Then you can finally stop pushing your money on me.
Start living with your child — he’s growing up like an orphan with living parents, Maxim Nikolayevich demanded. That dad of his hasn’t even run off to pay child support.
We never agreed on that. Vitya’s mother was against it, Zhenya muttered. I’m a little scared of her.
Better be scared of going to bed with boys, Maxim Nikolayevich waved his hand at his daughter. Anyway, you have to support your son yourself. Your mother never signed up to take care of him around the clock.
For several months, Zhenya indeed pretended to be a model daughter. She slept at home, took her son to daycare and picked him up herself. She worked at a salon in a nearby block, gradually gaining clients.
Her parents were glad she had finally gotten serious. But then she asked permission to go out of town with friends, then preferred a disco to putting her son to bed.
Her parents became worried but thought it unwise to tighten the reins too much. They understood well that Zhenya would rebel again and leave home if pushed too hard.
They had just managed to breathe a little easier when Zhenya announced she was pregnant again. That’s when her parents realized they had indulged their daughter for too long. They discussed the situation among themselves. That evening, Zhenya was met after work by her father, mother, son, and packed suitcases.
What kind of demonstration is this? Zhenya asked Margarita Sergeyevna and Maxim Nikolayevich. Are we going somewhere?
Yes, you and your son are going to the father of your children. Now it’s his problem, not ours.
You’re crazy! Zhenya backed away. His mother will chew me alive there and won’t choke.
No, you’re crazy if you thought you could party endlessly and have babies like a cat. You and Vitya are already twenty-three. It’s time to take responsibility for your actions, Maxim Nikolayevich firmly told his daughter.
They put the resisting Zhenya in the car, loaded the suitcases, and drove to Vitya’s address. He lived in a private house not too far away. They were not let in the gate immediately. Behind it stood a very displeased woman, about the same age as Margarita and Maxim.
What do you want? Why did you drag her here? she asked. Vitya’s not home.
Good, he’ll come — it’ll be a surprise, Maxim Nikolayevich began energetically unloading suitcases. You see, our daughter is pregnant again. From your son, as she admitted herself. But we’re not ready to bear responsibility for two grandchildren at once. So we’re entrusting that to their father, your Vityonka.
We don’t want anyone here, the woman named Alla protested. Who knows where your daughter got her belly from.
If you refuse, fine. Then we’ll do a DNA test, it’s possible even for the fetus now, and wait for a lawsuit and child support. And if Vityonka doesn’t pay, there could be a travel ban or even jail time. Great addition to your resume, I think. Your son knows how to make children but not how to take responsibility, Margarita Sergeyevna smiled at the potential mother-in-law.
We’re not refusing, Alla backed down. Let them live together, try it out, maybe something will come of it.
We’ve been through that, Maxim Nikolayevich shook his head. We raised the grandson for three years. Now only a wedding and official paternity recognition. Let them start using their heads.
Zhenya’s parents no longer accepted objections. They left their daughter to live in Vitya’s house, although his mother was not too happy about it. Soon Zhenya would give birth. They registered the father of the baby quickly and without much fuss.
Vitya works as a courier and tries to support the young family. And now Zhenya has no time for partying — living with her mother-in-law, she was forced to follow the new rules. Now she nostalgically remembers life with her parents. But they are no longer willing to take on someone else’s responsibility.