You’re loafing around on your day off anyway—go work my shift for me. It’s only one day,” her husband grumbled, finishing his dinner as if nothing were wrong and shamelessly dumping yet another burden on the woman who already carried the whole family on her shoulders.Viktoriya Semyonovna was a strong woman—one of those people who, as they say, can walk into a burning house or stop a galloping horse. That was probably why her husband Nikolai felt so certain of her and kept piling on new responsibilities.
Their daughter Masha saw her mother as her rock and refuge, too. Every day, after her own job, Viktoriya would shoulder heavy grocery bags, make three transfers across town to Masha’s home, hurry to cook lunch, pick up the grandchildren—little Misha and Nastya—from school, feed and change them, and then catch three more transfers to shuttle them to their activities: art on Tuesdays, singing on Thursdays, tennis on Wednesdays and Fridays. Afterwards she had to “walk” the kids, help with homework, and deliver them back to their loving parents.
“Thanks, Mom, you’re an angel! But why did you fry so few potatoes? Seva wanted to invite some buddies over today… What are we going to feed them?”
Viktoriya spread her hands helplessly.
