“I came with my wife,” said my son suddenly
It’s not easy for a mother to let her son go with another woman.
My boy crossed the threshold and said:
“I came with my wife.”
Behind him stood a small, black, frightened girl.
“This is Kate, I love her,” the son continued, respectfully letting his wife go ahead.
“Okay, since it’s your wife, let her pass,” I stammered.
They walked over, sat down on the sofa and began whispering. Absorbed in each other, they seemed not to notice me. My little knight, midshipman, musketeer turned me from a mother into a mother-in-law.
“Son, what about football, you have the World Cup just around the corner?” I asked timidly.
“So what,” my child carelessly waved me off.
“Is this really what happens–bang, bang and get married?” I thought sadly, pouring tea for the young people.
Soon his father came home from work.
“Alex got married!” I stunned him right from the doorway.
“What?! How does it feel to get married?”
My husband walked into the hall, said hello, introduced himself, and already in the kitchen he reassured me:
“Don’t worry. She’s a good wife”
The newlyweds drank tea, turned on music and continued to communicate with each other. My husband and I were like two empty places, or maybe like one… I cried a little, thought about the future of the children, and forced myself to get used to this new title of mother-in-law.
Towards evening there was a knock on the door. I opened it. A bony old woman stood in front of me, wearing a checkered apron.
“You don’t have ours?”
“Who?”
“Catherine”
“You mean Kate? At our place, at our place, come in,” I guessed that this was one of my relatives on my daughter-in-law’s side. She appears to be a grandmother.
“Catherine! Go home, you little naughty girl!”
Kate ran out into the hallway, without looking up, and hurriedly began to put on her shoes. Alex stood right there, near the front door, and his eyes slowly filled with tears.
As soon as the door slammed, Alex threw himself on the sofa and cried loudly. It was grief. Great man’s grief.
I sat down next to him on the sofa and pulled him close to me.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry, we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, you have the World Championship!”
Alex wiped away his tears, put on his sports uniform, took the ball and went to the field.
“Come back a champion!” I shouted after my son.
After all, at the age of eight, becoming a world champion may be even more important than getting married…
