Chapter 5

It took me about ten minutes to finally come to my senses and remain as calm as possible. Inga has not yet come out, and this makes her inside scratch unpleasantly. I'm afraid, stupidly afraid that she will invite Tumanov to the house and then everything will finally come to a standstill. And I least of all want to explain myself now, when the brain is a real mess. I have not yet departed from Igor's betrayal and start new showdowns beyond my strength.

Entering the living room, I sit down on the sofa, next to Anyuta, who, in a lotus position and a doll in her hands, is staring at the TV.

I have always been amazed at the flexibility of children.

If I try to twist my legs in the same way, without any preparation, something will definitely crunch or break.

“Mommy—noticing me, the daughter jumps to her feet and jumps beside her, demonstrating her new favorite toy, it seems, for the fifth time—Cool, right?

-Highly.

It's a lol doll. I named her Diana, just like my friend from kindergarten, because she has the exact same green dress.

Smiling, my soul becomes so warm and good that all problems are pushed aside for a moment by this sweet little girl, without whom I can’t even imagine myself now. She taught me not to give up when it hurts and it's hard. Go only forward, overcoming a million obstacles and not be afraid to live, and also ... she also taught me to love.

“Mommy, and when the pizza arrives, I’m sooo hungry—Slapping my stomach several times and smacking my lips, he sighs heavily—and also, I want to go on trampolines.

— On trampolines? I raise my eyebrows in surprise—You don’t like trampolines, do you?

- And now I love it!

Well, what to do with her, a real woman who lives in her impermanence. Just a week ago, this little thorn refused to go to the trampoline center because it's boring and not cool, but today it's love. Once I had a similar situation, when instead of a cinema, I landed in an amusement park and rode an hour on a Ferris wheel, although I am scared of heights to the core. True, I was then in my third month of pregnancy and I was stormed worse than on the high seas. Now I want oranges, then in a second I’m already running to the nearest bakery for a cinnamon pretzel. In general, I then shook my parents' nerves, but now they do not have a soul in their granddaughter.

“Well, if you love it, then let’s go.” I shrug and swallow nervously when I hear the front door slam. If now, besides Inga, Yegor also appears, then shoot me seven, otherwise I will do it myself.

“And here the pizza has arrived—Kolesnikova, contented like an elephant, jumps out, shaking the box and the bag in her hands, and my gaze squints behind her, looking for a male silhouette, but fortunately it is empty there.

“Uraaa, pizza—pizza—having jumped off the couch, Nyutka runs after Inga, who has already disappeared behind the glass door, and I sit still for a few minutes and making sure that we are alone in the apartment, I follow.

- So, monkey - Inga puts a piece of fragrant baking in an openwork, white plate and puts it on the table - where will you be, here or in the room?

“I want with cartoons,” the daughter squeals, joyfully fidgeting in place. At home, I never allow eating in front of cartoons and try to instill discipline, but now it's a great way to be alone with a friend and talk.

******

“Well, let’s meet,” Inga says, and raising the glasses, the sound of crystal is heard in the kitchen, and a slightly sour taste pleasantly settles on the tongue. -Like?

— Uh-huh — I savor it with pleasure.

“This is “Victoria Diez-Cabarello – 2012,” Kolesnikova notes in a tone of connoisseur, dragged mine a week ago, but somehow there was no reason to open everything. There are always more interesting classes, if you know what I mean—playing with her eyebrows, Inga reaches for the next roll, and I freeze with wine in my mouth, almost spitting out the contents on the table. The last thing I want to do is imagine what they were doing here, but still make sure of something desirable. Otherwise, I'll go crazy and cute gatherings with a friend, turn into a mental neurosis.

“Listen, Ing,” putting down the glass, I wipe the corners of my lips with my index finger and make my voice as relaxed as possible, trying not to give out a tremble. - and the guy who came ... well ... with flowers - is that him, your dream man?

Time slows down, seconds turn into minutes, long and painful, and if not for Anyuta, who can come in at any moment, I would have already exploded. Yes, many years have passed. Yes, we are strangers to each other and have the right to meet with anyone, but knowing that Yegor, along with my best friend, unpleasantly scratches the inside.

Stupid? Perhaps, but I can’t deceive myself, and after that I won’t be able to look with carelessness into their eyes. Especially after I sobbed into the pillow for several months, and after the birth, for another year I sniffled looking at my daughter and not being able to dial Tumanov's number. It was catastrophically hard to come to my senses and finally let go of a person who, probably, was already married and nursed his child, unaware of one more ...

- Lord, are you talking about Yegor or something? - Inga chuckles, as if I said utter nonsense and does not even notice how my face turns gray with every second. -We're just friends. - He smiles and I hardly spread a puddle of relief, but still I control myself. Millions of questions, brewing more and more actively in the hemispheres of the brain, do not allow me to calmly relax, and I unbearably want to shake out all the information, starting from the history of their acquaintance. It's strange that they are friends, but I don't know about it. Yes, she never even called her lover by name. So: cat, dear, mine, etc. Somehow it doesn’t look like Inga ...

— And the flowers? — I do not let up, trying to find out the whole truth — and where are they by the way?

Inga, thank God, does not notice my neurosis, and I begin to envy her relaxation, because I myself can’t do that. After I saw Tumanov, so grown up and incredibly attractive, I can’t think of anything else. How did he live all these years? Did he remember me, did he miss me at least a little, or did he forget and let me go as soon as he left the walls of my apartment? Is he still with his Milana, or does he already have a different one, or maybe others? I can't bring myself to mentally shut up, because that's the only way to keep from going completely crazy.

“Oh, yes, it was my Zhenya who passed it on through him. We quarreled yesterday, so he sent Yegor for reconnaissance, and I took it and sent this broom back. Because nope! I could have come myself, I would not have crumbled.

Ridiculously puffing out her cheeks, like a gluttonous chipmunk, Kolesnikova shoves another roll into herself and actively chewing, muttering something under her breath. I want to ask so many things about Yegor, and tell her about Nyutka, but I don’t know how best to approach, and is it worth starting? Maybe leave everything as it is? In a few days we will leave, and everything will be as before, but Yegor ... he is unlikely to sit and think about me. He has his own life, his own interests and needs, in which maybe there is no place for one little girl ... his daughter.

But at the same time, I understand that this is wrong and I must tell, no matter how difficult it is for me. After all, sooner or later, Nyutka will begin to be more actively interested in the location of her father, and in the end she will simply hate him for nothing. Yes, probably, it will be more correct, and then come what may. In any case, my conscience will remain clear.

The next day, as promised, I took my daughter to the trampoline center. True, in the end we went to the children's entertainment, to the slot machines, as Nyutka originally wanted, and, of course, took Inga with us, although she was not particularly happy. Spending a couple of hours in a room full of squealing children and having a terrible hangover is not the best idea, but I'm not going to take the rap alone either. We drank together.

“My head is about to explode from these squeals,” Inga whimpered, moving her legs listlessly. — Feeling that I got into the underworld of hell and I'm being fried.

- And whose words were - "oh, let me run away for wine" and so four times?

“Ugh, don’t remind me, I’m about to vomit.”

"Mom, what are you waiting for, let's go!"

Exchanging glances and sighing wearily, we stomped into the clot of children's cries and mentally prayed that everything would be over as soon as possible. When you have a small child, the concept, “I have a headache from yesterday’s booze” is not used, which means that you have to endure painfully.

And yet, I just can’t calm down and stop thinking about Tumanov. I do not know how best to present him with the news of sudden fatherhood. Offer to meet or write SMS? In a letter I am always more eloquent and will be able to explain everything, but in a meeting I am not sure of this. I would not want to sit and mumble like an uneducated fool. In general, while my pens do not give any intelligible specifics, I myself am not myself. Even Inga noticed a slight nervousness in the morning, but quickly wrote it off as a hangover. After I managed to get some information from Kolesnikova yesterday, this is my normal state. It turns out that Tumanov does not have any children, and what is most interesting, he has never been married ...

—Mom—from my thoughts, the demanding voice of my daughter sharply pulls me out of my thoughts —I want to play hockey on the table with Aunt Inga. Will you buy a ticket?

Glancing sideways at the doomed face of my friend, I break into a satisfied smirk and take Nyutka by the hand.

“Of course I’ll buy a flower, let’s go soon.”

While Nyutka terrorized Kolesnikova, showing how to play correctly, I decided to take a walk and buy some water. Maneuvering between children and youth, I finally find a movie theater bar and stand in line of three people. A short guy is standing in front of me and laughing loudly about something while talking on the phone. Another time, I would not even pay attention to this, but now I only dream of shutting up this restless one.

Anyway, I will never drink again. Enough from me. Instead of enjoying spending time with my daughter, all my thoughts are how to get home as soon as possible. This is not how I imagined this trip, not at all.

—Dasha? - I hear a male voice with a slight hoarseness and do not immediately understand that the appeal is directed to me. Only when faced with the purest blue eyes, the limbs seem to paralyze. Blinking several times, I understand that this is not a hangover mirage, but a real Yegor. Stands in jeans, a black T-shirt with some skulls and a glass of cola. Apparently it goes to the movies or vice versa. Not important. The only important thing is that these random coincidences for two days in a row make me think that the town is not so big here. We haven’t seen him for almost six years, and then bam, twice already ...

Could this be a sign?

“Hello.” I smile, angry at myself for looking like a swollen sheep now, and not a beautiful nymph. I want to show Tumanov how well I live, how happy and independent, but it turns out badly. I'm wearing only a brown brow pencil for cosmetics, and otherwise I look more like a fifteen-year-old teenager than a twenty-seven-year-old girl.

“Hello!” Yegor sends me a return smile, and I feel the traitors of the butterfly trembling in my stomach, which should have died a long time ago.

—Are you having fun? I nod at the glass of cola and the corner of the yellow ticket sticking out from under it. So it's still a movie. Interested with whom?

This is none of my business! - For the hundredth time I remind myself and dream of hitting the tile with my head. It's all hangovers. Exactly it is. Otherwise, why should I even think about Tumanov and his girlfriends? The main thing for me is that Inga does not swim out, and with her, the restless bandit. I'm not ready to share with Egor so intimate

“Something like that, are you here alone?”

“I don’t ... I don’t ...” I don’t have time to finish, thinking that here is a chance to introduce these two at least at a distance, as if to Yegor, as if out of nowhere, a cute blonde of about twenty comes up and puts a neat palm on his shoulder

- Egorchik, why are you taking so long? I've been waiting for you.