“And that’s not the one…

“Not the one,” Alevtina Vitoldovna interrupts rudely.

“Not the one,” I chuckle.

I'm the one who bought it.

5. Taya

- What do you allow yourself! - my aunt bares her teeth at me and hisses like an angry cat. True, outwardly she looks like a cat-castrato, heavy from a difficult life and adversity, but this does not change the essence of the matter: she is angry with me and is ready to devour me with giblets. Only because I dared impolitely laugh out of surprise at her idiotic statement.

Today I came tired, exhausted. And in the evening I have to crawl to my shift at Don Quixote. Smiling at customers and delivering "gourmet Spanish dishes." And then she showed up in the same dressing gown. The teleses are shaking, as if an aunt is going to dance a lambada. I immediately tensed up.

Dear Aunt Alya always behaved in a stereotyped way, and in the seven years of living with her side by side, I studied her like a flaky one. To the smallest detail. Before gestures and facial expressions, by which one could read her mood, state of health, critical days, lies and other manifestations of her angelic character.

The aunt generally considered herself an angel and Mother Teresa, and the Great Martyr of All Russia, who sheltered, warmed, and did good to the unfortunate orphan. And I, an ungrateful creature, did not appreciate the generosity of her dimensionless soul.

In general, her high spiritual qualities are a separate story. And now, looking at her pas de deux and how she pulls her sock in a slipper, I knew: Alevtina Vitoldovna wants something from me. And if she drove something into her head, she shot forward with her horn, like a rhinoceros.

“Your fiancé came here,” she sweetly starts, stretching her thin lips, thickly smeared with orange lipstick, like an elastic band from panties. “A pleasant young man in all respects. What are you, dear, hiding from your aunt? Encrypted, you might say. Not good.

Aunt's words - like a dusty bag on the head. At first I thought it was the first of April, but I forgot. And Aunt Alya decided to joke. Then I began to suspect that she was crazy. I'm obsessed with my serials. No wonder: look at several pieces in a row. Still not so the roof will go to the side.

- A good man calls for marriage, and you balk that that donkey is brainless.

Just freaked out.

- What kind of marriage, Aunt Al? I ask carefully. - What are you talking about now?

- Aren `t you ashamed! - she goes on the offensive, puffing out her chest of the fourth size from indignation. - Edgar, by the way, came to woo, asking for my blessing.

And then it hit my head. Edgar. I think I've heard that name. There, in the restaurant. This Seva-kotyara rubbed something about the dustless work for a thousand dollars, which I now stick out to the benefactor. Edgar Gintz. Exactly. What is it, it turns out? Should I marry him?

After this discovery, I laughed. And the foam flew out of the aunt in shreds.

- Ungrateful creature! she howled, flashing her angry eyes at me. - Wouldn’t there be a support for my aunt, what kind of help, but instead - ridicule and bullying? Mockery? So, my dear, your nobility is over. If you don't get married, I'll kick you out! Look, she laughs! Not a penny - you hear - you will not get a penny any more for your whims and whims! In tight gloves - and then we'll see how you sing later, swallow. You will marry yourself, like a sweetheart. It's time, it's time to get off my neck, give me a breath, otherwise I sat down, my legs hung down. No personal life, and by the way, I'm not old yet, yes! I have more needs.

The aunt went into a rage, waving her arms like a windmill with blades. I preferred to retire to the kitchen, retreat from the battlefield. You need to change clothes - and tear. While I work, you look, calm down. At worst, fall asleep. And tomorrow we will see what's what.

By the time I got to the restaurant, anxiety was pounding in my head like hammers. Something strange and wrong picture loomed. The inflamed brain drew all sorts of passions. Maybe he's a pervert? Maniac? And then they will find my miserable corpse somewhere in a ditch or at the bottom of a river.

I would also understand if he demanded to work out the body for his stinking bucks. But married? .. He definitely does not need a capital residence permit. It is unlikely that he is a marriage swindler and coveted his aunt's square meters in a deaf ass and in a panel house. And if he wanted to, then, most likely, he could find a better candidate for my place. More luxurious, right?

There was only one thing left: to suspect him of being a pervert. Not a day goes by that I don't think about this story. But the days went by, peace and quiet, and I relaxed. I even thought: maybe I didn’t understand everything right? Or they took me and forgot about me? Yep, naive. And now my aunt will not give life. Won't rest until I'm kicked off the side. Like a kitten in the water - plop! Either swim or sink, your problems. She had been sharpening her teeth for a long time, reading everything for the university. And here it is - a lucky break.

- Well, what do you have there? - Linka, like a beast, sensitively catches my mood with her scent. Yes, what is there to catch him - everything is already written on the face. Nose to the floor, eyebrows mournful "house".

- Did you swear? - I run into her unexpectedly for myself. - With its own universe and requests. Rejoice now. Your millionaire "slightly under forty" marries me. Came to marry my aunt. Now you can imagine how I feel now.

- What are you talking about? she blinks her eyes. Olka gasps and rattles her plates furiously, pretending to be busy, very busy, she has a lot of work, she has no time, she has no time to talk about all sorts of marriages and the universe.

- About the same. Installation. Bargaining. Thousand bucks. A non-dusty job for the kind Mr. Gintz.

The girls, of course, are aware of all the details of this story. Linka cheerfully assured me that somehow it would all resolve itself. Well, here it is, damn it.

- Tai, and Tai ... Maybe he's still nothing? – Linka mutters and looks into my eyes confidentially. "Maybe it's for the best?" The man is so personable, there is money. Why not an exit?

- Yes? I snap. - So I would marry him, if she is so smart. I would look at you. What do you know about him? Who is he? And why get married?

- Mda. Don't get married, if only you don't get married! - Sinitsa utters thoughtfully folk wisdom and, horrified by what has been said, closes her mouth with both hands.

Olka rattles her cymbals even more furiously, does not raise her eyes.

- Girls! - draws Gena Padlych. He already has a red, sweaty bald head, and wide, burning-black eyebrows tremble like two caterpillars from a tractor. - Stop talking, huh? Couple to work, panimaesh. Dissolved here dimagogy. Gathered to get married. At first, work, boys stalemate, like airplanes.

We hurriedly straighten our uniforms and trot after Padlych. Another work day has begun. Well, as long as no one puts their fingers in the door. There is time to think. And there you will see. Maybe Mr. Gints will change his mind about getting married. Or something will happen. Or plans change. That's just what to do with my aunt - I'll never know. He will live out of the world if this joker suddenly disappears from the horizon. However, he does not know Alevtina Vitoldovna well. This one he likes will get out of the ground, if she was promised.