Vasiliy circled the truck, inspecting the seals meticulously. The road ahead promised nearly two days of continuous travel. Fueled by a good rest during the loading pause, he felt ready, and the weather seemed to agree. While superstitions about luck on the road were often dismissed, Vasiliy quietly wished to make it back by weekend, eager to spend time at the park with his daughter.
As he pulled away from their home, his daughter Nina remarked, “The truck is completely packed, Dad.”
The dynamic between Vasiliy’s mother and Nina was far from perfect. Nina, at just ten years old, presented challenges that were compounded by her grandmother’s overprotectiveness, which often led to lax mornings and difficulties getting her to school on time.
“Safe travels,” the dispatcher called out, handing Vasiliy his travel documents.
“Thanks,” he responded, moving on.
The engine of the large vehicle roared as it exited the gates, the journey stretching thousands of kilometers before him. These long hauls were taxing, straining both him and Nina with their absence, yet they were financially necessary. After his wife’s mysterious disappearance, Nina’s health waned—colds turning into asthma and escalating to heart issues, though there had been recent improvements.
“Olia has surely run off with someone else,” his mother had bluntly stated one day, sparking a heated argument. Vasiliy couldn’t believe her words; Olia, his wife, would never abandon their family.
His mother’s harsh speculations about Olia’s fidelity continued, inappropriate for Nina’s ears. Despite their disputes, Vasiliy found himself pleading with his mother for her support due to his unavoidable trips, leaving Nina in her care.
A year after Olia vanished, leaving her passport behind, the authorities had no leads, hinting at a voluntary disappearance—an idea Vasiliy refused to accept. Olia’s recent changes—weight loss, a newfound preoccupation with her looks, and secretive phone calls—puzzled him. He remembered his mother’s initial opposition to his marriage, criticizing Olia’s family health history, unaware of their early deaths, presumed to be from illness.
Despite his attempts to bridge the gap between his mother and wife, Olia had urged, “Vasya, let’s not stir trouble unnecessarily.” His mother never warmed up to Olia, holding onto her baseless judgments.
Vasiliy had shared a home with his mother and Nina for over nine years, and with time, the initial tensions seemed to have mellowed.
Accelerating, Vasiliy headed toward the rest stop a hundred kilometers away, planning a brief respite. Dawn broke as he resumed his journey, relishing the sparse traffic of early morning. The roads were clear, and the car hummed smoothly along, bypassing any congestion with ease.
As he neared home that evening, Vasiliy decided on a spontaneous stop at Nina’s favorite roadside shop. She cherished the rustic charm of jarred goods tied with twine, reminiscent of scenes from old films. Though her appetite was often fickle, these traditional staples always seemed to please her. Thanks to the reliable fridge in the car, Vasiliy wasn’t concerned about preserving his purchases.
At the shop, a line of stalls manned by rosy-cheeked grandmothers peddling their wares caught his eye. He meandered among them, savoring the mingling scents. One elderly vendor, with warm eyes and a neatly tied scarf, drew him in. Her table was laden with dairy products, pickles, and an array of vegetables. Among them, unusually large apples caught his attention.
“Apples already?” Vasiliy expressed his surprise.
“They’re from an early variety—quite delicious,” the grandmother assured.
Charmed, Vasiliy purchased her entire stock. As he paid, a pendant around her neck caught his eye—it was unmistakably the one he had custom-designed for Olia for their anniversary, engraved with their initials.
A cold shiver ran through him. He composed himself to avoid causing a scene, pondering the possibility that this was just a coincidence. Still, doubts nagged at him as he returned to his car, his mind racing with questions. Before the market day ended, he resolved to speak to the grandmother.
He didn’t have to wait long; the old lady soon packed up her unsold goods. Vasiliy discreetly followed her to a quaint village house. The door was left ajar as she entered, perhaps indicating someone else was inside. His heart pounding, Vasiliy approached and cautiously stepped inside after her.
The grandmother, startled by his sudden appearance, clutched her chest. “Why are you here? Did you follow me from the market?”
“Yes, I need to ask you something,” Vasiliy managed, struggling to maintain his composure.
She eyed him warily. “The milk’s fresh, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s not about the milk. Where did you get that pendant?” he asked pointedly.
She instinctively covered the pendant with her hand. “It was given to me by a generous woman.”
“Was her name Olia?” Vasiliy pressed, his voice trembling.
Recognizing something in his tone, she softened. “You must be Vasya, aren’t you?”
Overwhelmed, Vasiliy knelt. “Please, if you know where Olia is, tell me.”
She helped him to his feet. “Let’s sit down. This is a long story.”
As they settled, the grandmother sighed. “I found her about a year ago, lost and desolate, wandering near here. She said she was seeking the end, but I couldn’t leave her like that. I brought her home, and over time, she revealed she was gravely ill. Terrified of the burden she’d become, she left after your mother convinced her it was for the best.”
Stunned, Vasiliy struggled to comprehend. “My mother would suggest that?”
The grandmother nodded sadly. “Olia is here, not far. She’s been scared, but she’s also been brave. She needs help, not abandonment.”
She led him to an adjoining room where Olia lay frail but alive. At the sight of him, she wept, confused and relieved.
“Olia,” he whispered, rushing to her side.
Together, they planned her return home. Later, with neighbors’ help, they gently escorted her to the truck. Olia, though weak, was determined to recover, surrounded by her family.
Back home, Nina ran into her mother’s arms, their reunion filled with tears and laughter. Vasiliy’s mother departed abruptly, leaving them to mend their fractured family without her interference.
Years later, as the doctor declared Olia in stable remission, they looked to the future with renewed hope, their past hardships a distant memory, overshadowed by the resilience of family love.