Denis, so she’s still a tomboy. And where did you find this little pauper?” Tatyana Viktorovna looked at her son in alarm.
“After work I stopped by the church to light a candle for the late Olenka, for the repose of her soul. When I came out, the beggars had gathered again, and this big-eyed Yulia was standing off to the side, looking at me so shyly. I went up to her and offered to take her to our place so she could eat her fill. Go warm up dinner, and I’ll call my boy in from the yard. And I’ll fire up the bathhouse. This little grubby thing needs washing.”
“I’ll feed her, and then you can walk her back out to the gate,” his mother insisted.
“Don’t give orders in my house, maman. I liked her on the drive over. I’m tired of sleeping alone in a cold bed,” he said, glancing at the girl who clung to him, looking for protection from his mother’s displeasure. From fear she didn’t understand what this man wanted from her, mentioning a bed in the conversation.
Denis went out, and Tatyana Viktorovna, realizing you couldn’t argue with her son, led the girl into the kitchen.
“So—tell me. How did you end up by the church?”
“I already told Denis.”
“Now repeat it to me. You’ll never get an extra word out of him,” Tatyana Viktorovna pressed.
“I lived with my parents in a settlement not far from your town. Dad went away to earn money, and then he disappeared. Mom worried, but she knew the address where to look for him and went after him. She was gone a long time, and I was almost out of money. With what little I had left, I went to the district police to ask them to find my parents. They found out that I, a ten-year-old girl, had no one, and they took measures. That’s how I ended up in an orphanage.”
“And they never found your parents?” Tatyana Viktorovna was intrigued by the girl’s story.
“I often asked the caregiver, but she’d say, ‘We’re looking.’ And to this day I still don’t know anything about them.”
“And what brought you to the church?”
“At the orphanage we were hungry, and the older girls tried to earn money for tastier food. In the evenings they’d run off to the highway. There’s a place there where long-haul truckers stay overnight. Once I tagged along after them, but it was pointless. I’m small and skinny, like a teenager. The men laughed at me, and not one of them took me to his room. I waited for the girls, hiding in the bushes. When they came out one by one, I called them over. Me and the last one even had a really good dinner at a roadside café. After that they didn’t take me with them anymore. But when they came back, they’d treat me to chebureks and shawarma. That’s when I understood: someone as small as me wasn’t wanted by any man.”
“And then what? Did you run away from the orphanage?”
“No. I studied poorly. They gave up on me. When I turned eighteen, they sent me to the settlement—to my house.”
“So you’re of age, yet you’re so tiny and so skinny. I never would’ve thought. And why didn’t you stay in your own house—why did you come to our town?”
“While I was in the orphanage, my house got vandalized inside so badly it was hard to even step in. I cleared out the trash, wanted to wash everything, and went out into the yard. Only then did I notice the wires from the pole to the house had been cut. There were no gas or water pipes on the property outside—where the outdoor faucet used to be. And inside the house, everything metal had been cut out and taken.”
“Who could’ve made such a mess?” Tatyana Viktorovna exclaimed.
“I don’t know. The neighbors are kind of strange. I knocked on their gates to ask for water, but no one opened. I went to the district center and contacted the proper services to restore everything. They demanded such a sum for it that I had nowhere to get it. I picked currants and gooseberries from the bushes and took them to the highway and sold them there. I saved on food, but there weren’t many berries. Then the apples ripened. I sold those too. Still it wasn’t enough. So I decided to beg by the church.”
“And did you try looking for work?” Tatyana Viktorovna couldn’t understand how they could just throw a girl out like that.
“I tried to find something, but people told me to grow up a bit and get stronger.”
“Why didn’t they send you to study?”
“I don’t even have a diploma. I couldn’t pass the exams.”
Denis came into the house with his eight-year-old son, Lenya, and they all sat down at the table.
After dinner Denis gave instructions.
“Old woman, take Lenka to the bathhouse—after him, you steam yourself too. And I want to go with Yulia. She doesn’t know anything.”
“With me?” the girl went pale.
“Don’t freeze up ahead of time. You’ll get used to it and you’ll like it. We were all young once.” Denis went into his mother’s room and came back with a towel and a bright-colored robe. Tatyana and his son were already gone from the kitchen. He sat down next to Yulia.
“Well, have you settled in? How do you like Mom’s cooking?”
“It’s delicious!”
“It should be—she used to work as a cook and lived with a man in Moscow. I stayed here with my father. The house was small, with only partial conveniences. After university I ended up in a certain place. That’s where I got on my feet and started my own business. I have an online store, and I have employees. I gradually expanded the pickup points. Now I run it all. I built this house five years ago, and at thirty I got married. Darya died during childbirth, and I buried my father earlier. Left alone with my son, I called my mother to come live with me—things with her second husband weren’t going well anyway. So that’s how we’ve been living in this house. Lenya is already eight, and I’m still alone. I didn’t dare bring a woman into the house… but I like you.”
Yulia drew her head into her shoulders.
“You have to start sometime, Yulenka—so why drag it out?”
Lenya came running in, cheeks flushed.
“Dad, awesome! You promised a pool. When will you start digging?”
“It’s late, Lenya—frost is coming soon. We’ll start in the spring, you and me.”
The boy ran off to his room, and Denis went out into the yard. In the anteroom of the bathhouse he checked the stove and sat down on the bench.
Tatyana Viktorovna came out of the bathhouse.
“Are you really, son, planning something unkind? She’s practically still a child—she doesn’t even know what happens with a man. You need someone your equal.”
“Mom, she’s an orphan, and who knows what will happen to her next. And I don’t need some freeloader living in my house. Don’t think the worst. I’m not completely nuts—I’ll win her over with tenderness.”
Tatyana Viktorovna shook her head and went back into the house. Soon Denis appeared there too.
“Yulia, come on—let’s go steam,” he said, and taking the girl by the hand, led her into the yard.
In the bathhouse it wasn’t as hot as Denis liked; he always steamed first. This time he was worried about Yulia. What if the steam was bad for her?
“Undress and lie face down on the bench. I’ll lightly swat you with the birch whisk. And don’t be afraid of me.”
Yulia obeyed, and Denis undressed too so his clothes wouldn’t get damp, and got to work with the whisk.
“That’s it, good girl. Now do the same—hit my back with the whisk as hard as you can,” he said, and lay down.
After that, on the bench, Denis soaped the girl with a washcloth, then poured water over her from a basin. Her shoulder-length hair curled into little ringlets, and he admired her. Then he patted her dry like a child with a towel and, throwing his mother’s robe over her shoulders, sent her into the house. Nothing else happened with them in the bathhouse—and he hadn’t planned for anything to.
“Mom will show you my bedroom. She’s probably already made up a clean bed. I’ll be along soon.”
Already in bed, Yulia lay trembling as she waited for Denis. She thanked God that the truckers had laughed at her back then and hadn’t touched an innocent girl. Now this awaited her. But she believed in the decency of this grown man and no longer wanted to go back home. Let everything be the way Denis wanted.
Soon Denis appeared and, slipping off his bath robe, lay down beside her. He began with a kiss…
Denis and Yulia registered their marriage when she was already pregnant. Her husband carefully monitored his wife’s health. He didn’t want a repeat of the tragedy that had happened with his son’s mother.
Everything went as well as possible. Yulia gave birth to a girl, and some time later—another one. She filled out and grew a little.
Denis repaired Yulia’s house in the settlement and rented it out to tenants. He didn’t want anyone, out of habit, to break into Yulia’s house again and wreck it. He had no intention of selling it. He planned, in time, to build something big and good for the children on that spot. The time would come, and they would grow up. Who would remain with them—time would tell