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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2300525-Anzhela
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by Mahe Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #2300525
A woman named Anzhela visits her friend and her family after three years.
As Anzhela traveled down the stony road, the wooden dacha* grew closer and closer within her sight. The rustic summer cottage gave off a warm and welcoming aura, especially with the brightly coloured flowers that grew on the grassy sides surrounding it. Stepping up the steps to the front door, she inhaled and sighed as she rang the doorbell.

“It’s her!” The thumps of running footsteps towards the door grew louder, and it was opened by a small boy with bright blonde hair and dark eyes, somewhere around the age of nine.

“Pryvit*,” Anzhela greeted shyly with an equally meek wave.

“Privet*.” The boy’s tone was polite, but confused rather than excited. However, another woman’s face with bright blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair filled Anzhela with relief. In her arms was a sleepy two-year-old girl with short, straw-coloured hair who rested close against her mother’s body.

“Privet, Anzhela! It’s so good to see you!” The mother greeted as she hugged her.

“Pryvit, Svetlana - you too.”

Svetlana turned to her son. “Aleksei, this is your godmother, Tetya* Anzhela. She’s also been my best friend since we were little.”

Anzhela bent down to the boy’s level and smiled. “Oh my, you’ve grown so much! Why Aleksei, you look just like your father.”

“Oh. Thanks….” Aleksei’s smile suddenly faded.

In an attempt to break the awkward silence, Anzhela took the shopping bag and basket in her hands as she stepped into the house. “Oh! Svetlana, I’ve got some presents for you and the children.”

“Really? Really?” Aleksei grew excited as he and his family followed their guest into the house, where she set the basket on the coffee table. Sitting on the sofa, she reached into the bag and took out two wrapped presents, in which the little boy took them with delight.

“The first one’s for you, Aleksei. And the other one’s for little Tati.” Anzhelasmiled sweetly at the girl.

“I can open both of them! Mama, can I open Tati’s for her?” With a nod of approval from his mother, he crouched behind the sofa as he opened the gifts.

“I have something for you as well, Svetlana!” Anzhela opened the basket and pulled out a colourful bouquet.

“My goodness!” Svetlana carefully took the bouquet. “Sunflowers, daisies, pretty pale pink roses, lovely lilies of the valley, and purple orchids, my favourites! Anzhela, you are such a-” She suddenly stopped as she counted the flowers and nodded. Twelve flowers, she observed. But then, she noticed some white things sticking out from the bouquet, and she pulled one of them out. “Anzhela, what’s this?”

“It’s a feather, Svetlana. I thought they looked like swan feathers, so you could have something to remember your husband by,” Anzhela answered. “But don’t worry - they’re fake! I bought them from a shop, and I wanted to decorate the bouquet…”

Svetlana lowered the bouquet and sighed. “Anzhela…I know your heart is in the right place, but….”

“Hey!” Aleksei walked up to Anzhela in disappoinment, revealing the presents to her - two animals, one stuffed mammal, and the other a porcelain figurine of a bird. “Tetya Anzhela, why do I have a swan?” he complained. “And why does Tati have a hedgehog?”

“I’m sorry, Aleksei. But the last time I saw you, your favourite animal was the swan,” Anzhela explained.

“It used to be. But after Papa died, I changed it to the hedgehog.”

“Three years ago,” Svetlana added.

At that, Anzhela felt embarrassment and shame hit her like a mallet to the face, and after retrieving her shopping bag and basket from the coffee table she turned to the door. “Svetlana…I have to go. This was a mistake.”

“Oh no, Anzhela, I’m sorry…” But Anzhela had closed the door.

***


Once Anzhela stepped outside, she sighed and hung her head low as she stepped down the wooden steps of the porch, resting her hands against her temples until she collected herself with a breath. Instead of leaving, she turned and headed to the right side of the dacha, where she found herself surrounded by flowers - marigolds, day lilies, and hyacinths growing behind a line of stones. On the grass were tiny but scattered clusters of clovers, coltsfoots, and asphodels. Anzhela bent down once her toes reached the line of stones, and took out a colourfully-embroidered rushnyk* from her coat pocket. Then, she plucked some of the heads of the flowers, counting them as she did, and placed them in her rushnyk. Next, she kneeled on the grass and plucked handfuls of the clusters, adding them to her rushnyk which she placed on her lap. Altogether, she pulled twenty-four flower heads from each of the flowers.

But little did Anzhela know that she was being watched. From the kitchen window, Aleksei and Svetlana observed her every move, the mother resting her hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Mama, why did Tetya Anzhela want to leave? Is she alright?” he asked. “And why haven’t we seen her for three years?”

“Well, you know how we all miss Papa?”

“Mhm, I miss him so much.”

“We all do, and we all feel very sad. But there’s not really anything we can do except carry on living and cherishing the memories we had with him.”

“I know that. But why is she sad? Has she lost someone too?”

Suddenly, Svetlana found Anzhela swaddling the plants with her rushnyk, and she gasped as she watched her friend cradle it in her arms. Now, she understood everything clearly. “…there’s something Tetya Anzhela wanted more than anything, but she couldn’t have it,” she answered with a sigh. “And there’s not really anything anyone can do about it.”

“Then why can’t she just go buy the thing she wants?”

“Because what she wants cannot be easily bought, Aleksei. It’s a complicated process. Sometimes, people grieve what they do not have, and Anzhela isn’t the only one. These things happen and it’s not meant to be.”

“I see.” Aleksei nodded, looking out the window. “Can we go see if she’s okay?”

Svetlana smiled as she took her son’s hand. “Of course, lyubimyy*. We can.”
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