— Mom, don’t tell me you forgot! — Irina shrieked as she rushed into the hallway, throwing an expensive handbag off her shoulder. — Come on, Mom! I warned you a whole month ago!
Galina Petrovna slowly turned away from the mirror where she had been fixing her gray hair. Her hands trembled slightly, but her gaze remained calm.
— What are you talking about, Ira? — she asked quietly.
— What do you mean, what?! — Irina tossed her bag onto the sofa. — Kostya’s birthday! Tomorrow is his fifteenth birthday! What, are you lost in the clouds again?
— No, I remember… — Galina Petrovna sat down in an armchair and folded her hands in her lap. — I was just thinking that maybe we shouldn’t make such a big fuss…
— Shouldn’t make a fuss? — Irina stopped in the middle of the room and stared at her mother. — He’s my son! Your grandson! He’s turning fifteen! And you’re saying we shouldn’t make a fuss?
Galina Petrovna sighed. She knew what was coming now. It was always like this when Irina came to stay with her grandson for the weekend. Her daughter had always been hot-tempered and demanding. And after the divorce, she had become even worse.
— Ira, calm down. I remember everything. I bought him a present, and I ordered a cake from the bakery, — she said tiredly. — I’m just wondering if maybe he doesn’t want a big celebration. He’s become so quiet lately…
— Quiet? — Irina snorted. — He’s a teenager! All teenagers are quiet around adults. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a birthday celebration. On the contrary, we need to show him that we love him!
A floorboard creaked in the hallway. Kostya appeared—tall and lanky, with unruly dark hair and his father’s serious eyes.
— Hi, Grandma, — he muttered, glancing at his mother. — Why are you yelling?
— We’re not yelling. We’re discussing your birthday, — Irina immediately turned her attention to her son, her voice becoming sugary sweet. — Tomorrow is your birthday, sweetheart! Grandma ordered a cake, and I brought presents…
— I don’t need anything, — Kostya muttered, sitting on the edge of the sofa. — I’ll be fine without it.
— What do you mean, you’ll be fine without it? — Irina protested. — You’re turning fifteen! That’s an important birthday!
Kostya shrugged and buried himself in his phone. Galina Petrovna looked at her grandson anxiously. Something was wrong with him. For several months now, every time he came
over, he seemed more withdrawn. He barely spoke to her and answered his mother only in short phrases.
— Kostya, what would you like as a present? — she asked gently.
— Nothing, — the boy answered without looking up.
— What do you mean, nothing? — Irina sat down beside him. — Maybe a new phone? Or we could upgrade your computer?
— Mom, leave me alone, — Kostya muttered, getting to his feet. — I’m going to my room.
— What do you mean, your room? — Irina jumped up. — We just got here! Let’s make plans instead. Who should we invite—
— I don’t want anyone invited! — Kostya spun around sharply. — Understand? Nobody! I want to be alone!
— But why? — Irina asked, confused. — You used to love birthdays…
— Used to… — Kostya gave a crooked smile. — A lot of things used to be different. Now there’s no point pretending all these birthdays make everyone so happy.
He walked away and slammed the door behind him.
Irina remained standing in the middle of the room, her mouth open in surprise.
— What’s wrong with him? — she asked, turning to her mother. — He used to be so cheerful!
Galina Petrovna sighed heavily. She had watched her grandson change. She had seen how much he was suffering because of his parents’ divorce, how he was being pulled back and forth between his mother and father, and how exhausted he had become from their constant accusations and grievances.
— Ira, sit down, — she said. — Let’s talk.
— What is there to talk about? — Irina paced nervously around the room. — It’s obvious! Sergey is turning him against me! I know what he’s capable of!
— This isn’t about Sergey, — Galina Petrovna said carefully. — Kostya is simply tired. Tired of your arguments, tired of being moved back and forth…
— What arguments? — Irina protested. — We don’t argue! We had a civilized divorce!
— Civilized? — Galina Petrovna shook her head. — Ira, I hear how you talk to the boy’s father on the phone. How you accuse each other, how you argue over who gets to spend time with him…
— I’m fighting for my son! — Irina snapped. — He’s my child!
— And Sergey’s too. And Kostya understands that perfectly well. He’s being torn between the two of you, — Galina Petrovna stood and approached her daughter. — Ira, sweetheart, maybe you should think about him instead of yourself?
— He’s all I think about! — Irina pulled away. — That’s exactly why I want to give him a birthday celebration! To show him that he’s loved!
— Maybe it would be better to show him that he can feel at peace. That his home can be calm and peaceful.
Irina snorted and walked over to the window. A fine rain was falling outside, making the courtyard look gray and gloomy.
— You’re against me too, aren’t you? — she asked quietly. — Just like everyone else.
— I’m not against you, sweetheart. I’m on Kostya’s side. And yours too. But sometimes what we believe is right turns out to be completely different from what someone actually needs.
— What do you mean?
Galina Petrovna sat back down in the armchair. She remained silent for a long moment, choosing her words.
— You know, when you were little, I also thought I knew what was best for you. I made you study music even though you liked drawing more. I took you to dance classes when you wanted to join a sports club. I thought I was doing the right thing, that I was preparing you for life.
— So? — Irina asked warily.
— So you grew up and started doing the opposite of everything I wanted. Sometimes just to spite me, and sometimes even to spite yourself. Because I never listened to you. I never asked what you wanted.
— What does that have to do with anything? — Irina turned toward her mother. — We’re talking about Kostya!
— That’s exactly who I’m talking about. He doesn’t want a celebration. He said so directly. And you aren’t listening.
— He’s a child! Children don’t always know what’s best for them!
— And adults do? — Galina Petrovna smiled sadly. — Ira, I’m seventy-two years old now. And I’ve come to understand that most of the time children know perfectly well what they need. We simply don’t want to hear them.
Irina walked over to her mother’s chair and sat on the armrest.
— Mom, I’m so afraid of losing him, — she whispered. — Ever since the divorce, he’s become so distant. It’s like a wall has grown between us. I thought that if I gave him a wonderful birthday, he would understand that I love him.
— He already knows that, — Galina Petrovna stroked her daughter’s hand. — But right now he doesn’t need fun. He needs peace. Stability. A place where he can simply exist without having to force a smile.
— So what should we do? Not celebrate at all?
— Why don’t we ask him? Really ask him. Ask what he wants and how he imagines spending his birthday. And then we’ll do exactly that.
Irina thought for a moment. The rain outside intensified, the drops drumming loudly against the window.
— All right, — she finally agreed. — But what if he says he doesn’t want anything at all?
— Then we’ll simply be there for him. Sometimes that’s the most valuable thing.
The floorboard in the hallway creaked again. Kostya appeared in the doorway, shifting uncertainly from one foot to the other.
— Can I come in? — he asked.
— Of course, sweetheart, — Galina Petrovna smiled. — Come in.
Kostya sat on the sofa opposite them. He remained silent, nervously picking at the edge of a cushion.
— Sorry I yelled, — he finally said. — I’m just sick of everything.
— Sick of what? — Irina asked quietly.
— Well… all of this, — Kostya waved his hand. — You and Dad are constantly asking me how I’m doing, whether everything is okay, whether anyone is hurting me. But meanwhile… meanwhile, the two of you can’t even talk to each other normally.
— We’re trying…
— Trying! — Kostya looked up. — Mom, I’m not stupid! I see how angry you get whenever Dad calls. How tense you become when he comes to pick me up. And he does exactly the same thing. Do you think that’s easy for me?
Irina stared at her son in confusion. She truly hadn’t realized how deeply he noticed everything.
— Kostya, your father and I separated peacefully…
— Peacefully? — the boy gave a bitter laugh. — Every time he calls, you spend the next hour walking around the kitchen muttering about what a jerk he is. And he tells me that you can’t be trusted and that you’re hysterical. Is that what you call peaceful?
— Kostya… — Irina wanted to object, but no words came.
— And now you want to throw me a birthday party, — the boy continued. — You’ll smile, give me presents, eat cake. And I’ll know it’s all fake. That in reality you can’t stand each other and you just feel sorry for me.
— We don’t feel sorry for you! — Irina exclaimed. — We love you!
— You love me? — Kostya stood up. — Then why can’t you at least talk normally to each other for my sake? Why does each of you keep making me choose which one of you I prefer?
— We don’t make you choose…
— You do! All the time! Dad asks whether I miss him when I’m staying with you. And you interrogate me about what he says and whether he’s turning me against you. I’m sick of it!
Kostya sat back down and buried his face in his hands.
— Do you know what I dream about? — he said in a muffled voice. — I want you to just stop fighting. I want you to be able to meet and talk without all those nasty little remarks. I want to be able to spend time with Dad without feeling like I’m betraying you, and to be with you without thinking I’m hurting him.
Irina sank to her knees in front of her son.
— Kostya, forgive me, — she whispered. — I didn’t understand…
— Didn’t understand what? — Kostya looked up. — That I have feelings too? That this hurts me too?
— I understood. I just… I thought I was protecting you.
— From whom? Dad? — Kostya shook his head. — Mom, he’s my father. I love him. Just like I love you. Why can’t I love both of you?
— You can, — Galina Petrovna said quietly. — And you should. Ira, are you listening?
Irina nodded without raising her eyes.
— I am. I just don’t know how to fix this.
— Maybe you can start small? — Kostya suggested. — Tomorrow, for example? If you really want to have a birthday celebration, then let Dad come too.
— What? — Irina looked up sharply. — But we’re…
— You’re divorced. I know. But you’re both my parents. And if this celebration is supposed to be for me, then I want both of you there.
— But how… he… — Irina stumbled over her words.
— Mom, just try. For me. Call him and invite him. Tell him it’s important to me.
Irina looked at her son, then at her mother. Galina Petrovna silently nodded.
— All right, — Irina finally agreed. — I’ll try.
Kostya suddenly smiled for the first time that evening.
— Then we can have a celebration. Just nothing big. A simple family dinner. The four of us.
— Four? — Irina asked, confused.
— Yeah. You, me, Dad, and Grandma. We’re family, after all.
Irina felt her eyes begin to sting. Kostya still considered them a family. Even after the divorce, after all the arguments and resentment.
— But you have to promise me something, — the boy said seriously. — No sarcastic remarks, no accusations. At least for one day. For me.
— I promise, — Irina said quickly.
— And talk to Dad. Explain what I expect from both of you.
— I definitely will.
— Then tomorrow really will be a surprise, — Kostya smiled. — For all of us.
Galina Petrovna looked at her grandson and thought about how much he had grown up. How wisely he spoke for a fifteen-year-old. And how much pain he must have endured all this time.
— Kostya, what do you really want as a present? — she asked. — A real present?
— I want all of you to be happy, — the boy answered seriously. — All of you. Separately from one another and when you’re together. I don’t want you to pretend everything is fine. I want things to actually be fine.
— That’s a difficult present, — Galina Petrovna said thoughtfully.
— I know. But I’ll wait. Even if I have to wait a long time.
Irina hugged her son.
— You won’t have to wait long, — she promised. — I’ll try. I really will.
— And I’ll help, — Galina Petrovna added. — We’ll all try.
— Then it’ll be the best birthday ever, — Kostya smiled. — Although the surprise won’t be for me. It’ll be for all of us.
Outside the window, the rain gradually subsided, and the first rays of the setting sun broke through the clouds. Tomorrow would be a new day. And perhaps a new beginning for all of them.
