From the very start of the day, everything seemed determined to go wrong. Marina, usually organized and careful, kept dropping one thing after another: her coffee almost spilled over the brand-new clean tablecloth, her apartment keys vanished somewhere in the depths of her bag, and when she finally found them, she nearly slammed the door on her own finger. Every little mishap tightened the knot in her nerves, and by noon she felt completely drained. She tried to focus on household chores, but one anxious thought kept buzzing in her head like an irritating mosquito: Something is wrong…
A heavy sense of dread wrapped around her, making it hard to breathe. Marina kept glancing at her phone. She was afraid something had happened at work and that they would call her back in, especially since she had finally allowed herself to take a day off for once.
The phone did ring, but it was not her workplace calling.
It was Tatyana Ivanovna, her father’s neighbor. The woman’s voice trembled, her words tumbling over sobs and broken breaths. Marina could barely make out the sentences, but she understood the main point at once: her father was in the hospital. A heart attack.
“Tatyana Ivanovna, thank you for calling and letting me know,” Marina whispered, feeling everything inside her tighten into an icy knot. “I’m leaving right now.”
She hardly heard the woman’s reply. The rush of blood pounding in her ears drowned out every word. Her hands shook, but Marina forced herself to move: she grabbed her bag, found her keys in her pocket this time, threw on her coat, and did not even notice that she had buttoned it crookedly.
It was a good thing her boss had approved the day off, almost as if it had been meant to happen this way. If she had been at work, she probably would have rushed out in the middle of her shift anyway, unable to survive the hours until evening with all those fears and guesses tormenting her. Now every second mattered. She had to find out the details, see her father, and make sure he was alive, that he would recover.
The drive to the hospital felt endless. The taxi crawled through traffic, every traffic light seemed to turn red on purpose, and Marina’s heart pounded so hard it felt as though everyone around her could hear it. She gripped the handle of her bag and kept repeating silently, Hold on, Dad. I’m almost there.
The sharp smell of antiseptic and medicine snapped Marina out of her haze. Once inside the hospital, she quickly found her father’s attending physician. At first, the man lazily lifted his eyes from his paperwork, but the moment he saw Marina’s face, he understood how terrified she was. If he did not tell her everything right away, she looked ready to become the next patient herself.
Despite the storm of emotions inside her, Marina managed to collect herself. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and asked in a voice that sounded almost calm:
“What happened to my father? Please tell me everything.”
The doctor, an elderly man with tired but kind eyes, nodded and motioned for her to sit down.
“Most likely, he was under severe stress,” he began carefully. “He has heart problems, and any emotional strain can have a bad effect on his health and trigger an attack. You need to talk to him and explain that he must avoid worrying as much as possible. He’s not a young man anymore. Even young people these days often have weak hearts.”
Marina nodded, but inside she was screaming: How can you simply tell someone not to worry? Will words really calm fear? She pictured her father, always so strong and dependable, lying helpless in a hospital bed, and the image made her throat tighten painfully.
She promised the doctor she would speak to him, though she knew perfectly well that no one could simply command a person to stay calm. Nerves were not guitar strings you could tighten or loosen with a key. They snapped from the slightest careless word, from the smallest shock.
Maybe indifference has to be taught from childhood if a person is supposed to remain calm in every situation, Marina thought with bitter irony. But was that really living? Was it not better to feel, to care, to love, even if it hurt?
She stood, thanked the doctor, and headed toward the room, clutching the visitor’s pass in her hand. Her father was waiting behind that door, and she had to look composed so he would not worry even more.
When Marina stepped into the room, she forced herself to smile. Dmitry Vasilyevich brightened immediately when he saw his daughter. He pushed himself up a little and looked at her with tenderness.
“Why are you so flushed, silly girl? I’m fine. I’m all right. Your father is tougher than he looks. Nothing’s going to happen to me!”
“Why were you upset? Did Vadim do something again?”
Marina’s older brother had always been the family’s disaster. He constantly got himself into trouble and made their parents worry. Their mother and father had fought endlessly because of him. In the end, Tamara Petrovna could not take it anymore and filed for divorce. She quickly found another man and moved to another city. The children stayed with their father. Dmitry Vasilyevich had suffered at first, but eventually he found his footing again and devoted himself to raising them. Vadim, however, only grew worse after their mother left, becoming completely unmanageable and blaming their father for every one of his own failures.
“What’s the point of talking about him?” her father muttered. “You know exactly what your brother is like. I’m fine. The important thing is that you don’t get upset.”
Marina decided not to press her father for details, but she was determined to speak seriously with her brother. He needed to be shaken awake, forced at last to grow up. He was already in his thirties and still had not developed a shred of responsibility, still had not outgrown the mindset of a selfish teenager.
After spending a little while with her father, Marina promised she would visit him every day after work and headed to see her brother. She called Vadim in advance, told him she was coming, and asked him not to go anywhere.
Vadim lived with their father even though he had his own studio apartment, a gift from their mother, who had apparently decided that buying her children homes was enough to erase her guilt. She had bought Marina a studio too, but Marina, earning a decent salary, had sold it and taken out a mortgage on a two-bedroom apartment closer to her job. She had nearly paid it off and was already thinking about moving into a private house someday.
When Marina reached her father’s building, she took a deep breath. At the entrance, she ran into Mikhail, Tatyana Ivanovna’s son. Once upon a time, he and Marina had been classmates. They had been close, spent hours doing homework together, and explored the world side by side. But over the years their lives had drifted apart. After Misha went into the army, they lost touch almost completely and only occasionally crossed paths like this.
“You came to see your brother?” Mikhail asked, looking at Marina with sympathy.
“Yes. I need to talk to him.”
“He had a terrible fight with your father this morning. I heard them yelling out on the stairwell. I came out to help, but Vadim had already left, and Dmitry Vasilyevich suddenly felt ill. I was the one who called the ambulance.”
Marina’s suspicion was confirmed. Her father’s heart attack had been brought on by her brother.
“Thank you.”
It seemed Tatyana Ivanovna had mentioned that her son had called the paramedics, but Marina had barely processed anything at the time.
“It was nothing,” Mikhail said softly. “Dmitry Vasilyevich is like family to me too. How is he now?”
“He’s stable, but he must not get upset. I have to get through to Vadim somehow and make him understand that this behavior is unacceptable.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be easy. Getting him to change is a huge challenge. He lives only for himself and never thinks about anyone else.”
Marina had no desire to discuss her brother, even with a childhood friend. She thanked Mikhail again and hurried upstairs.
Vadim looked strangely energized. He tore himself away from the computer, where he had been lost in some game, and looked at his sister as though nothing at all had happened.
“Do you even realize that Dad is in the hospital because of you?” Marina asked, fixing him with a hard stare.
“And what does that have to do with me?” Vadim shot back. “I didn’t ask him to stick his nose into my business. I decided to sell my studio, and he threw a fit. It’s my life. I’ll decide what to do with it and how I’m going to live.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Marina whispered. “He’s your father. And you act like he’s some stranger.”
“He’s your father too. Listen, dear sister, since you’re such a kind and devoted daughter, take Dad to live with you. Then I’ll sell his apartment instead of my studio. I need money urgently. I want to open a gaming club. I’m telling you, it’ll be profitable. Money will start pouring in fast, and then I’ll even be able to throw some cash your way and Dad’s too.”
Marina felt a storm of fury rising inside her chest. She exhaled heavily, narrowed her eyes at her brother, and clenched her fists.
“Do you even hear yourself? That apartment belongs to Dad. It’s his, and only he gets to decide what happens to it.”
“And it’s my decision what to do with my studio. So what’s the problem? He should just stay out of my life and everything will be fine. I kept quiet when he started taking Tatyana Ivanovna to the theater. I didn’t interfere in his personal life or lecture him about being too old for it. So he should stop interfering in mine.”
Realizing there was no point in arguing with him, Marina decided she would simply take control of the situation herself. Their father needed peace. The doctor had warned her that another attack could happen, and next time it might end much worse. If Dmitry Vasilyevich was going to stay calm, then yes, she would need to take him away from this apartment and send Vadim to live in the studio he already owned.
“Start packing your things, Vadim. You have your own place. I’ll take Dad in, just like you asked, but we are not selling his apartment. We’ll rent it out.”
“And who do you think you are, making decisions like that?” Vadim snapped. “You’re the younger sister, in case you’ve forgotten. Need I remind you that I have more rights to the inheritance than you do? You have no business telling anyone what to do with Dad’s property.”
“I’m not taking over his property,” Marina answered coldly. “I’m creating a peaceful environment for him. I’ve warned you, so I suggest you start packing now, so it doesn’t come as a shock later when you’re told to leave. And don’t you dare talk about inheritance. Our father is still alive, and he has many years ahead of him.”
With those words, Marina walked out of the apartment, her heart hammering in her chest. She wished she could force her brother to change, but she knew she could not. The only thing in her power was protecting her father from more stress.
The next day, Marina spoke to Dmitry Vasilyevich and suggested that he move in with her while his apartment was rented out.
“Vadim is a hopeless fool, no doubt about that,” her father sighed. “But I still feel sorry for him. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”
“I still insist,” Marina said. “I’m terrified of getting another phone call one day and hearing… Dad, please listen to me. Heart problems are not something to take lightly.”
After thinking it over, Dmitry Vasilyevich agreed. If it would ease his daughter’s mind, he was willing to move. Perhaps he had coddled his eldest son for too long, and that was why Vadim had grown into such an irresponsible man who treated his father with no respect. Maybe it was time for the boy to learn that no one would spend the rest of their life running after him and indulging every whim.
Dmitry Vasilyevich moved in with Marina, but he did not want to rent out his apartment after all. Instead, he decided it would be better to sell it and buy a small house in the suburbs. He said he was at just the right age to plant a little garden, tend to it, and enjoy the sunrise while sitting in a comfortable wicker chair in his own yard. Marina supported his decision. She contacted a realtor she knew, and soon the man was not only searching for a buyer for the apartment, but also looking for the most suitable houses.
A month and a half later, Dmitry Vasilyevich moved into his new home.
Vadim was furious with his father for refusing to give him money and for not supporting his obviously doomed idea of opening a computer club. He blamed Marina and insisted it was all her bad influence, but no one listened. In the end, it no longer mattered. Out of spite, Vadim stopped speaking to his father and, for once, stopped tormenting him. Every now and then he would call his sister, but Marina responded coldly and never rushed to rescue him if she knew perfectly well that he could handle the situation on his own.
Gradually, Vadim realized that no one was going to tolerate his behavior anymore, no one was going to feed him, dress him, or clean up after him. He was forced to get a job. Before that, he had drifted from one temporary gig to another, never staying anywhere for long. He had always lacked discipline, and as for financial sense, he had none at all. That was exactly why Marina knew that even if he somehow poured money into a gaming club, he would quickly ruin it. If he truly wanted to build a business, he had to earn the money for it himself from the ground up. Only then could he have any chance of success. Marina was convinced that if his ambition was genuine, he would manage. But if it was only another performance, another attempt to impress his friends, then it was better not to start at all.
Dmitry Vasilyevich, meanwhile, seemed to come back to life. There was always something for him to do around the house, and he no longer had to spend lonely evenings brooding. Tatyana Ivanovna began dropping by more and more often, and Marina realized that something tender might be growing between them, just as her brother had hinted. She did not mind at all. Her father was a grown man, and he had every right to decide for himself with whom he wanted to walk the rest of his path.
For the first time in a long while, Marina felt at peace about her father and could finally begin thinking about her own life as well.
As for Vadim, he had been forced to look at life from a different angle and learn how expensive every single coin really was—the very money he used to waste on games without a second thought while constantly demanding more from his father.