Snowflakes slowly twirled in the light of the streetlamps, resembling dancers in pristine white dresses. Maria Andreyevna stood frozen by the window of her fourth-floor apartment, engulfed in the February darkness. Each time the headlights of passing cars lit up the yard, her heart started beating faster. Andrei was due back from another business trip soon.
They had met ten years ago in the university library: she was a philology student, he was a promising economist. It was a beautiful romance that led to an early marriage and the birth of a son. It seemed then that happiness would last forever. But everything changed in the last two years.
“Mommy, is Daddy really coming home today?” the voice of six-year-old Kostya pulled her from her thoughts.
“Yes, sunshine,” Maria replied, trying to smile despite the anxiety in her chest.
“Let’s bake his favorite cabbage pie?”
“Hooray!” the boy exclaimed joyfully. “I’ll help!”
The kitchen filled with the aroma of fresh baking. Maria remembered how Andrei always hurried home, drawn by this very smell. “A home should smell of pies,” his mother, Nina Vasilyevna, would say as she taught the young bride to cook.
Nina Vasilyevna had lived with them for three years after suffering a stroke. This kind, yet strict woman remained the only one who could still influence her son. Lately, even her authority seemed to matter no more.
The click of the turning key made Maria flinch. There on the threshold stood her husband—exhausted, unshaven, with eyes red from fatigue. From him, a faint scent of another woman’s perfume was barely discernible.
“Dinner ready?” he asked abruptly, ignoring his son who ran to him.
“Daddy!” Kostya exclaimed, trying to hug his father’s legs.
“Get off, I’m tired,” Andrei pushed him away. “Why do you keep baking these pies? Stop wasting money.”
Maria remained silent. She had learned to keep quiet when her husband was in such a state. Wordlessly, she set the table and placed the most appetizing piece of pie on her husband’s plate.
A stifling silence reigned at the table, broken only by the clink of cutlery and the quiet voice of Nina Vasilyevna telling stories of her youth to her grandson.
“How was the trip?” Maria cautiously asked when Andrei had finished eating.
“Fine,” he replied shortly. “Enough with the questions.”
“I just wanted to…”
“Just what?” he snapped, pushing his plate away. “I’m sick of your endless questions! All you do is spy on me!”
Kostya, frightened, pressed against his grandmother. Nina Vasilyevna shook her head:
“Andrusha, calm down. Masha is just interested…”
“And you too?” he growled. “You’re all against me!”
At that moment, Andrei’s phone rang. He stepped into the hallway, but even through the closed door, a woman’s chattering could be heard. “Alena,” Maria thought. She had long known this name, though she had never met its owner.
When Andrei returned, his face twisted in anger.
“Enough!” he grabbed his bag. “Take your brat and get out!”
“Andrei!” exclaimed Nina Vasilyevna. “Come to your senses!”
“Shut up, mother! I’m sick of you all!”
He grabbed Maria by the hand and dragged her to the door. Kostya, sobbing, ran after them.
“You can spend the winter in a communal apartment!” Andrei growled, thrusting his wife and son directly into the blizzard.
The last thing Maria saw was Andrei’s malicious face and the tears on Nina Vasilyevna’s face, whom he roughly shoved away from the door.
Outside, the blizzard raged. Maria clung tightly to the shivering Kostya, trying to shield him with her coat. They had no money for a taxi—all the bank cards were with Andrei. Her phone had died earlier that day.
“Mommy, I’m cold,” Kostya whimpered pitifully.
“Hang on, sunshine, we’ll figure something out.”
As if in answer to her silent prayer, an old “Moskvich” car with a noticeable dent on the wing stopped nearby.
“Get in quickly,” a soft offer came from inside the car. “You can’t stay out in this weather with a child. I’m Mikhail Petrovich, I used to be a mechanic, now retired.”
Maria hesitated only a second. What could be worse than freezing to death with her son?
Mikhail Petrovich turned out to be a true angel. He took them to his modest apartment, where his wife, Anna Grigoryevna, immediately set about helping: she gave them hot tea, wrapped them in warm blankets, and found old clothes for Kostya.
“Got somewhere to go?” Anna Grigoryevna asked when Kostya finally fell asleep.
“There’s a room in a communal apartment, left from my grandmother,” Maria whispered. “But I haven’t been there in a long time…”
“Misha will take you there in the morning,” the woman declared confidently. “Rest now.”
The communal apartment on the outskirts of Lipovsk greeted them with suspicious glances from neighbors. Five families sharing one kitchen and one toilet was always a challenge. But there was no other choice.
The room was small but tidy. Yellowed wallpaper, a squeaky sofa, a shaky wardrobe. Kostya immediately climbed onto the windowsill, looking out at the snow-covered yard.
“Mom, are we going to live here?”
“Temporarily, sunshine. Until we find a better option.”
Mikhail Petrovich often stopped by, helping with repairs. Thanks to his experience, new shelves appeared in the room, and the faucet in the communal kitchen no longer dripped. Over time, the neighbors became more friendly, especially after Maria started baking her signature pies for everyone.
Mikhail Petrovich had worked his whole life at an automobile plant. Even in retirement, he couldn’t sit still—he had assembled his “Moskvich” from old parts, which the locals called “Frankenstein.” With his wife Anna Grigoryevna, they had been married for forty years, raised three children who now lived in different cities. The elderly couple found joy in helping those in need.
“You know, Masha,” Anna Grigoryevna said as she tucked Kostya into bed, “Misha and I also went through a lot. In the nineties, the plant was idle, there was no work. We thought we wouldn’t survive. But people helped each other, shared the last of what they had. Now it’s our turn to pay it forward.”
Meanwhile, Andrei enjoyed freedom with Alena. He immediately brought her to his home, ignoring his mother’s protests. However, happiness was short-lived. Alena soon realized that living with a tyrant was impossible, and she ran away with a young fitness trainer.
In the communal apartment, Maria met Dmitry, a programmer renting the neighboring room. After being fired from a large company, he had tried to start his own startup. He also tutored on the side. He helped Kostya with math and often kept them company in the evenings, telling amazing stories about computers and robots.
Dmitry ended up in the communal apartment after a failed divorce. His project to create educational apps never gained popularity. His wife couldn’t handle the constant financial difficulties and left for a wealthier man. However, Dmitry never lost faith in humanity and maintained the ability to empathize.
His first encounter with Maria, when he saw her crying with little Kostya, touched his heart. Perhaps he recognized in them himself—a bewildered and lonely person…
Gradually, life began to improve. Maria found a job as a waitress at the “Lilac” cafe, where her cooking talent was soon recognized. In time, she became the assistant to the head chef.
The owner of the establishment, Stepan Arkadyevich, began to show interest in her. Elegant courtship, gifts of flowers, and numerous compliments. He seemed the complete opposite of Andrei—charming, successful, caring.
Dmitry tried to warn her: “Masha, be careful. There’s something shady about his business. I’m wary of people who come there in the evenings.” “You’re just jealous,” she replied, although she felt uneasy inside.
Trouble crept up unnoticed. Stepan offered to take out a loan to develop the business, promising huge profits. A week later, he disappeared, leaving Maria with a considerable debt and shattered hopes.
At that moment, Andrei’s neighbor called: Nina Vasilyevna had suffered a bad turn. She didn’t survive a second stroke. Before she died, she changed her will, leaving the apartment and her savings to her grandson and former daughter-in-law.
Andrei rushed over as soon as he learned about the inheritance: “It’s mine! You set this up!” “Get out,” Maria firmly replied. “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
Stepan was arrested in Thailand. His scam with sham loans was exposed, and the money was recovered. At an auction, Maria bought the “Lilac” cafe and, with Dmitry’s help, transformed it into a cozy place with original cuisine and a children’s room.
Mikhail Petrovich took the position of chief mechanic—his versatile skills, from repairing coffee machines to servicing ventilation, proved invaluable. Anna Grigoryevna sometimes came to help with baking, and her signature gingerbread became the cafe’s calling card.
Dmitry was always there. He helped with paperwork, spent time with Kostya, supported during tough moments. One evening, as they worked on reports late into the night, he simply took her hand. And Maria realized—this was true happiness.
A year later, their daughter Nadya was born. Kostya proudly took on the role of big brother and actively helped his mother with the baby. And Dmitry became the father the boy had always dreamed of.
Sometimes Andrei walked past “Lilac.” He saw through the window a joyful Maria, a grown-up Kostya helping Dmitry with new equipment. Once he even came in for coffee, but after meeting his ex-wife’s gaze, he silently left.
In the small town of Lipovsk, it’s still said that there’s no cozier place than the “Lilac” cafe. If you listen to the conversations of the patrons, you can hear an amazing story about how a winter blizzard changed the fate of one family, giving them true happiness.
Every year, at the first snowflakes, Maria stands at the window of her cafe and remembers that terrible night. Now she knows—sometimes you have to lose everything to find true love and happiness. And the blizzard… it merely clears the path to a new life.
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