It was hopeless.This is my husband said so.Briefly, but expressive.I remember, I immediately presented her clumsy, bespectacled, in ridiculous golf on short legs.And at the same cheerful smile on one side.
Beside her I felt flexible and dangerous animal: a panther, or at least the cat.Wild, of course.Perhaps precisely because of this feeling, and I loved her more than anything.As soon as I get close to it - and I immediately became the center of attraction, it is clear that it is not female and male attention.And her life once again offered the vacant position usually chronicler others victories.
We were alone.That is, she was lonely, and I'm terrible to chill free.We met ten years ago.And then, and only one during this time did not happen in my life ?!I have traveled the world, lived through a thousand and one romantic adventure, make a compelling career - I will not elaborate modesty, what kind.Life is sometimes surprised and pleased.
somehow suddenly grown my little girl, I loved to faint, like al
For your kitten I could be calm.In combination with an intelligent head it looks it will be a great helper in the Hereafter.My daughter does not have the part to watch other people's destinies valid.His victory it organizes itself, and my help she hardly needed.Yes, I forgot, "Simone de Beauvoir" I, just in case, stuffed away on the top shelf.We were not with her on the way.
But it was me and something else.At the finish line, when personal freedom began to develop in an ordinary woman's loneliness, I like the last car of the departing train, as in the last lifeboat from the sinking of the Titanic, just jumped into a successful marriage.Ee-st!Yes, now I have all to assume that life is good.
... And when we met, I was even ashamed of their obvious advantages - what is called "success and happiness in his personal life."
And her life dripped drop by drop, day after day, year after year, gathering in small standing pool of past years.And that alone was something really hopeless.
Quiet operation for a penny in a serious organization closed, quiet, forever tidied apartment, which sadly rustles the quiet mother, who always has a good reason to feel very unhappy.In this silence, poverty and hopelessness she lived and managed to maintain a sense of life itself.
When she, puffing on a cigarette and gleaming ochochkah, cheerfully smiling to one side and casually asked me, as are my "affairs", I wanted to give her the medal "For Personal Courage": in her life did not change anything.
Well, personal steam locomotive at full speed approaching the mark of a mile from the fatal number "forty" and operated with her life she had never learned.Everything that has ever happened in her life, was conceived and carried out by her mother.
When she was little, her mother decided that it is necessary to learn languages, and gave the daughter of the French special school that was near their communal apartment on Kropotkin.
Then the mother wept at the separate apartment, and from the center, they moved to Butyrka boondocks where the old mechanical factory, perfume factory "Freedom" and the famous Bermuda Triangle prison crashed in dull residential buildings.The mother left her daughter a French school.Began trip by bus and reading books on the subway.
issue with the choice of the institute did not stand.Mother for many years worked as a secretary at the most superior of the most serious a closed organization.Not that the chief so dear to his stupid and not very competent secretary, but to remove from itself the woman who claimed to be the absolute primacy in misfortune, just the hand is not raised.And how can you deny that this tiny creature, plaintively folded across his chest missing legs, again begins to ask, no, not for himself, but for his beloved and only daughter.
With University helped immediately.First year had to learn to Vecherka, then pushed her gently - to give acceleration - at full-time.The mother could arrange the Faculty of Economics, although the daughter herself would have preferred something less boring, well, for example, the historical.
After graduation work drew on the same lines all in the same mother's organization.Plans for the mother pinned great working team.Solid all people, mainly men with expensive ties and different there "Longines" and "Breitling," their own cars, and with trips to the prestigious - not some - abroad for work or simply on vacation.
But men continue to ride in their car and took the time to offer her daughter a ride.And nothing at all in a hurry to offer her.Daughter with her mother on the bus back home from work, ate dinner together.Then his mother was watching TV, and the daughter was reading in his room.The eleven went to bed.
Hopes of marriage quietly grew sickly as agave and draws on the window sills Tradescantia serious closed organization.
But life straightened dull edge shifted and changed a sour grimace on a sympathetic smile.She smiled slightly, the corner of his lips.But it was enough.
leaves on a business trip elderly aunt.To go abroad for a few years.Because it was a good specialist and has already lonely.But - it did not happen.Because life is not her smile, but quite the contrary.And aunt got an unexpected stroke and disability, and the mother got a chance to send his daughter to trips abroad.
And again hope.Widowed diplomat.Divorced caretaker at the embassy or wherever else, it does not matter.Arrived at the young specialist practice.He did, after all, could simply not have time to get married.Well, at least someone, damn them tear up.And then her daughter.
Tradescantia But still quietly withered and grew sickly windowsills all two-year assignment, and daughter, having worked successfully in Latin America due time, returned to her quiet apartment to his mother.
Abroad, as well as the accumulated money, quickly turned into a vision.As if there was not at all distant, exotic countries, where people are drawn to love as if it was not around the caretaker and diplomats.And even young professionals who came to practice, damn them tear up.
Life began again vyvyazyvayut hook identical loops of days, weeks and years, without stopping to empty, passes leisurely weekends or holidays.
Our conversations were often about how everything is difficult: I was torn between a husband, a child from his first marriage and work.About what price goes to me that success in life is pushing responsibility at work and what all men, in fact, cattle.
I tried to be as sensitive in relation to it and not particularly get involved in her life.But she still smiled, screwing up his eyes, - either from the smoke "eternal his cigarette" (so it seems, Tsvetaeva wrote, I do not remember exactly), or even why.
Once I caught her duties in the vacation on the couch were laid some antediluvian ski pants, cowboy shirt and bra almost the Moscow production association "Cheryomushki".And who I pulled the tongue to say that there is not enough to set only a guitar and beard: it is clear in fact that a beard or a bra.
Well, I find it difficult to understand why an adult aunt have to spend their vacation at the equestrian hike on the Altai to some other mountains or plateaus.Actually, this is it and I asked.That's all.
I should not have done it.She stopped squinting and staring with hatred at me.Then she said:
- I can not come up with more to himself than to take their holiday.And I can not come up every year, you fill out your vacation.And, in general, the whole life.And I do not know what to do next with it.
- With whom, with life?
- And with her and her mother.She always decide everything, she herself did.For me.And where I myself, where my whole?And all my lives its separate meaningful life in a small apartment in Chertanovo.And I was like no.Neither there nor here.But no one knows about it.And you I will not say anything.You all jump with a pestle in the pistil ( "Wow!" - I was surprised), but I somehow I know what real ...
Rough she still a virgin.Indeed, it lacks a beard.Though my pretty stigma really was fluff.And, if we call a spade a spade, samples for me to put nowhere.
After that, we have not seen.I'm still on speed limits worn around town and around the world and still managed to not throw his exciting experience (how indecent it then put it!), But her life still does not change anything.
But one day in the spring, in the short-lived those days when life is seen exclusively through the forgotten during the winter smells and vague longing in the body, she called me.Panic hurriedly blurted out that the coming meeting her classmates that there will be He - well, the one that in Chertanovo.What does she need a good haircut, so it can only surrender to my non-professional, but skilled hands.
Ah, who knows how we're both worried ?!Each strand of hair hid her feeble my desire to make it irresistible.I thought that this stupid meeting classmates, we go together, and its defeat would be, of course, and mine.
He really was Adam.The parents came to Moscow from Poland, the son was sent to a special school to learn French.All the same, some no, and foreigners.Son was capable of, and he pinned great hopes.In the second grade, they began to study together and sit at the same desk as the sixth he has not found another neighbor.
presenting its own huge and a delicious slice of life - from the second class, and to date, - to give at the mercy of some even to Adam, I felt at ease.
And she, as usual, puffing a cigarette, gleaming glasses, smiling shyly to one side and admitted:
- Just, I made out of his rib.Well, Eve made from Adam's rib ... Do you understand?
To me, it sounded even reproach.It was a sentence ... Because I do not understand.And in general, in my opinion, it was not even an edge, and just kind of spare part.
... And this time, too, nothing special happened.Well, again met former classmates at her home.Adam bald, put on weight, with work left, and his wife divorced.All evening he missed.And she quietly absorbed the feeling of a complete story of perfection: here it is, Adam, and that's close, in a corner of the couch, - she said.His rib.
She was almost happy, besides all said that haircut she just cool.
* * *
Once, having returned from another comfortable distance, I thought about it and called.I talked at length about his impressions, well, about pistils - not help - too little said, and she, as always, listened.And what could she say?
And when I said goodbye, I heard her careless:
- By the way, I also want something to tell you.I now have something to occupy their days.And even at night.I was born a girl.And who is her father - my mother never finds out.
... He never appeared and never saw his daughter.However, one day when a former classmate showed him a picture of a cheerful, curly girl - his goddaughter, he praised:
- Good child ...