Yes, I was also incontinent. And phrases like the one about chickens begging for alms, often slipped in our quarrels on my part. And, of course, I regretted them. And he asked for forgiveness from Rita - later, when the quarrel subsided. But such poisonous phrases, spoken by her and me, still accumulated in everyone’s subconscious and poisoned both their soul, nerves, and consciousness. And once they reached their critical mass ...

“And if we lived in the city? - I asked myself. “Would it be better?”

In terms of life - of course. And Rita would work in her specialty, and, therefore, she would have an outlet from the addictive life. But work is not a panacea: there would be other reasons for our quarrels ... Something in our relationship was not enough, some main trifle. But - what? ..

* * *

From that day, every time, approaching the stop in the evening, I involuntarily looked for this girl, who looked like a fluffy holiday, with my eyes. What for? - I could not explain this to myself. I was not going to even get to know her, not to mention having some kind of relationship — although in my position it would be quite natural. Why? - I, too, would not have answered this question, even to myself. But it seemed to me that her very presence at the bus stop, the very realization that we would be there for about ten or twenty minutes, and maybe even shoot our looks, would warm me up, fill me with something bright, so that it would give one more evening. quietly endure solitude in a cold house — so cold that neither the heater nor the stove could warm it for me. Sometimes I remembered the lines of John Lennon, written by him once in a similar situation: “Whatever gets you through the night - it's" s alright. "Yes, I only had to go through one night ... and then another one ... but then one more ...

But the girl did not appear - a week ... two ... At first I tried to convince myself that I did not care. But in the end I clearly understood that I miss her.

I saw her on Wednesday, when I almost lost all hope. It was New Year's Eve; using the pre-holiday turmoil in the circles of the authorities, I managed to sneak off work a little earlier than usual, so I approached that very stop thirty minutes before my bus. And, even from afar, having seen the familiar silhouette, he unwittingly quickened his step, stretching his lips in a smile creeping out of the very depths of his soul.

Coming closer, I saw that the girl was looking in my direction and was also smiling — affably, like an old acquaintance, and a little waiting. We greeted: she - on "you", I - on "you".

“Happy you,” I began the conversation. - Long time not seen. Have you been ill?

“Thank you,” the girl was even friendlier and a little embarrassed, smiled. - No, not sick. My father lived in the city. And now I'm going to my mother for the weekend. Need to spend, long time no see. Yes, and I want to spend holidays with her.

“That's right,” I confirmed. - It is possible to check this way more often - and, having just uttered this phrase, I felt its ambiguity: for me it sounded such a hint that I even involuntarily looked at the girl - did she not accidentally understand what I put into these words against my will? But then she calmed down: the girl seemed not to notice anything, because she answered ingenuously:

- Yes, I would not mind myself, but my father does not like it very much.

- Because of the divorce? - I have not forgotten what she told during our last meeting.

The girl nodded:

- Yes. She says that I don't need a mother for a hundred years, otherwise she would have taken me with her.

- Well, this is it for nothing ... - I did not agree.

“I think so too,” she said. - And sometimes I think that he is right.

- Why?

- Mom has another family. And the child was recently born.

- So what? - I truly wondered. - What does it matter?

The girl hesitated.

“Well ... I don't know myself,” she finally said. - Just feel it.

I looked at my watch and said:

- We still have a lot of time before the bus. I'm still afraid that you will freeze again, - with these words the girl smiled a little embarrassed. - Maybe we go to that cafe? - I nodded to the opposite side.

- And will you drink me tea again? She asked slyly. - But I have not frozen yet, thanks ...

“You can just sit there,” I responded in tune to her and nodded at the icy benches: “Everything is better than this ... Don't worry, I won't force you to drink tea anymore.”

“Well, let's go,” the girl agreed.

We went into a small but very cozy room and sat down on high bar stools under a quietly running plasma TV. I went to the counter and ordered tea with a bun, then, glancing at the girl, asked to make another tea, immediately telling myself that this was so, just in case. And within five minutes the girl, smiling again, looked from her glass to me.

“For some reason, I thought that this was the end of the matter,” she said with barely perceptible kind irony.

“I just thought at the last moment,” I explained to her, “that it will be impolite: I drink and you look at me ... By the way, can we get to know you, eh?” And don't call me "you," okay?

“Good,” the girl agreed. - I'm Julia.

- And I - Sergey. - I took a sip. - There are some good cakes. Will you?

- No thanks. I just have some tea. I do not want anything for now. We would just not miss the bus ...

- Do not worry - I reassured Julia. - I can see a stop, and I’m following the time. We run, if that ... Where do you study?

- In vocational schools, on the cook. Spring is already ending.

“Good job,” I approved. - And always useful. Even if you are not lucky with the work ...

“... then I’ll make soup for my husband," the girl said. - Mom told me so too. True, I never thought that in order to cook borscht at home, you must have a diploma.

“You're not going to sit at home all the time,” I said. - A profession is necessary and good. And what did not go to the tower?

- There is no possibility, - somehow reluctantly explained Julia. - Do you work?

- Yes, by mail.

- At the post office? - incredulously asked the girl. - Seriously?

“Well, yes,” I said, somewhat puzzled.

- Strange. I never thought that men work at the post office too.

- And what this job is so strange for men?

“Well, you know, sorting out different papers there and letters with newspapers is, after all, an occupation more for women ...”

- Hmm. - I did not go into unnecessary details regarding my work, took a sip of tea and said: - You know, and after all your profession is not the most feminine too. Most of all cooks are men. And, by the way, it is a very common opinion that men cook even better than women.

“This“ opinion ”is, as usual, exaggerated, - Yulia objected. - A woman, in principle, cannot do worse than a man for what it is intended by nature ... And do you know how to cook yourself?

“Of course,” I replied, and joked to the girl: “If anything, my wife will not die of hunger ...” Then he paused for a minute and added: “I am cooking now too.” Have to ...

- Why? Not married?

- You could say divorced. - I looked out the window.

- Oh, sorry ... I didn’t want it, really. - Yulkin's palm touched my hand with a glass for a second. - How long?

- Month ...

- Did not get along? The girl asked knowingly.

I smiled wryly:

- Rather, views on life ...

Yulkin's palm squeezed my fingers in an unaccountable burst of sympathy. I looked at her. From the blue eyes looked at me something like compassion. I felt a warm wave coming to my heart - a girl who was still largely naive and open-hearted, who also had a difficult life in her own way, wanted to share a bit of her with me ... Read more →