When Lena decided to marry Denis, her friend said she must have lost her mind.
“Divorced with three kids? What are you thinking? He’s only asking you to marry him so he can get free help! You’ll end up cooking for all of them, doing laundry, cleaning up… Why do you want this?”
That was Katya’s favorite question: why do you need this? She based her whole life around it—not that she was always looking for a benefit, but she liked to weigh any possible gains and harms before making decisions.
“Well, I will,” Lena replied calmly. “You know I’ve always wanted kids, so it’s not a problem for me. He’s calm, hardworking, doesn’t drink—what else could I want?”
“Your self-esteem must be low,” Katya sighed. “I mean, I get that your maternal instincts have kicked in, that’s normal. I just got myself a little dog instead, much easier.”
“You can have a baby whenever you want,” Lena reminded her. “But I can’t.”
Katya went silent immediately, stopped weighing things up, stopped trying to convince. She gently stroked Lena’s arm and whispered softly.
“Alright, I’m sorry. I just worry about you. Why do you want a man with that kind of baggage? I get it if it’s one kid, but three? And all boys!”
“It’s actually easier for me with boys,” Lena shot back. “I have two brothers myself, so don’t worry.”
“I’m not trying to scare you… but have you seen his ex-wife? She and you are worlds apart. What if she decides to come back?”
Lena laughed to hide her anxiety: in truth, she was terribly jealous of Denis’ ex-wife Tatyana, having seen for herself just how beautiful she was—Lena couldn’t hope to compete with her!
“Well, if she ever comes back, we’ll deal with it then. But seriously, make up your mind—am I too good for him or is he too good for me?”
Katya looked up to the ceiling, as if weighing the situation again, and gave her verdict:
“Both of you are good. You’re doing the right thing, you balance each other out.”
And that’s where they left it.
Lena met Denis at work. He wasn’t exactly her type, but he was a genuinely good man. So when one day she found him with tears in his eyes, she just couldn’t walk past—something serious must have happened if a grown man was crying in public. He told Lena that his wife Tanya had left him, abandoning him with their three kids, and he couldn’t handle it on his own. They started talking more and more, and about a year later, after a few drinks at an office party, they ended up kissing in a broom closet like teenagers.
Denis’s sons reacted differently to Lena’s arrival. The youngest, Oleg, followed her around and almost immediately started calling her “mom.” The middle one, Sergey, barely acknowledged her at all. But the oldest, Maksim, took an instant dislike—he’d been really close to his mother. Lena didn’t take it personally; she understood: he’d lost his mother, and nobody should ever have to go through that. And really, he hadn’t lost her—he knew she was still out there somewhere, walking this earth, which meant there was always hope she might come back.
Denis’s wife left for Turkey: she met a Turkish man online, fell in love, and rushed off in search of a brighter future. In the beginning, she wrote to the kids, called them, and even visited six months later, but then she disappeared completely. Denis tried to appeal to her conscience, sent her emails, begged her not to abandon the children, but it was like talking to a wall. One day, after Maxim’s birthday, he wrote to her again—the boy had waited all day for a birthday greeting that never came. This was after Denis had married Lena. Denis was furious that day, and maybe he went too far, because his ex-wife finally called him back, unleashing a stream of insults. Lena was sitting right beside him and heard everything the woman said—words that made Denis turn as pale as a ghost.
“Good thing I left the daughter at the hospital! Imagine how much she would’ve had to hear from you!”
Lena immediately understood what was going on, and so did Denis—when his wife left for her Turkish lover, she had said she was pregnant by him. But it seemed she hadn’t been.
“W-what daughter?” Denis stammered.
“Ours, of course! I didn’t want her ending up with someone as cold as you!”
Denis started demanding answers, but Tatyana hung up and then blocked his number.
“She made it all up,” Lena tried to comfort him. “She just wanted to hurt you.”
But Denis became obsessed with the idea that his ex-wife had actually given birth to his daughter. He had always wanted a girl, even with the first child, and after three sons…
“We have to find her,” he declared to Lena.
“How are we going to do that? I’m telling you, she made it all up—no mother could just abandon her child…”
And then she stopped herself. Maybe she could—after all, she had abandoned the boys.
“Fine. I’ll ask Katya and see what can be done.”
Katya’s habit of weighing and calculating everything was actually pretty useful: she had helpful connections everywhere, people who could assist in almost any situation.
“Okay,” Katya said, drawing out the word. “A girl, you say? When was she born?”
Lena remembered the only time Denis’s ex-wife came to Russia and replied:
“That means it was in April 2017.”
“Got it. Let me check with the people I know at the maternity hospitals and child services… Here, Valentina—I lent her my dorm room key when I left. Tomorrow, or the day after at the latest, we’ll know everything.”
Lena didn’t tell Denis anything in advance—just in case nothing came of it.
It worked. Katya called the next day and, sounding puzzled, announced:
“It’s true, your Tatyana gave birth to a girl on the fourteenth of April. She immediately signed a relinquishment form, and she was no longer married to Denis, not with the Turk yet either. So the father’s name is blank—no one listed. The baby was taken to an orphanage.”
“So, where is she now?”
“I don’t know. She was supposedly adopted, and if that’s the case, that’s it—adoption records are sealed, you know.”
“What do you mean sealed? She’s Denis’s daughter—he has the right to know!”
“Well, that still has to be proven—and who’s to say that woman really had Denis’s baby? Think about it, if she was so promiscuous…”
“Just give me the orphanage’s address,” Lena interrupted. “I’ll find out myself.”
She didn’t learn anything. Neither did Denis. They barely managed to confirm the existence of the girl, but that was as far as they got.
Denis took it really hard and spent several months feeling completely down. Lena tried to comfort him, but he just wouldn’t respond.
“Leave Dad alone!” Maxim snapped at one point. “Why are you bothering him—can’t you see he can’t stand you?”
Denis, who truly seemed these past months to regret marrying Lena, suddenly flared up.
“Careful what you say, kid! It’s not her that makes me sick—it’s your mother! Do you know what she did? She sent your sister to an orphanage! Now she’s been adopted and who knows, maybe she’s suffering there, being mistreated, and she…”
Lena was against telling the kids, but she didn’t manage to stop Denis in time.
Maxim froze, his face turning waxy, almost painted.
“You’re lying,” he said in a trembling voice.
“Everything I said is the truth. Now apologize to Aunt Lena and go to your room.”
Of course, Maxim didn’t apologize. He ran off, slamming the door behind him.
“Why did you have to do that,” Lena said sadly. “He’s just a child, he doesn’t need to know about all this.”
“He should know. He keeps going on about his mom, as if she’s some kind of saint.”
Strangely enough, this whole episode helped Denis break free from his sadness.
“We have to believe she’s okay,” Lena said. “She was adopted by good people—people who love her and take care of her.”
They stopped searching. Well, Denis stopped searching, but Lena couldn’t let it go: she browsed websites with kids up for adoption, looking for April 2017 babies (just in case they’d been tricked, or the girl had been returned—anything can happen), then she started checking out kindergarten class photos, trying to guess which group the girl might be in, hoping she’d look like Denis. This became a habit for Lena, though gradually she searched less and less as she accepted that they were never going to find the girl. Instead, she began secretly checking her husband’s ex-wife’s page: the woman loved to document everything—where she’d been, what she bought, what she ate. She posted lots of photos of her kids, the twin boy and girl, both dark-eyed and always smiling.
Lena felt she had to prove—though to whom, she had no idea—that she was in no way inferior to Tatyana, even though it was obvious she was… If Tatyana took the kids to a water park, Lena took the boys across the whole city just to stand in line for the one big water slide; when Tatyana got her hair cut short and looked even younger and prettier, Lena went for a short cut too—it was about time, after all, short hair is youthful. She was angry at herself for all this spying and silly imitation, but she just couldn’t stop.
In some ways, Katya was right—Lena’s life now felt like a never-ending Groundhog Day. But Lena didn’t complain: she woke up, made breakfast for everyone, took the kids to kindergarten (and later to school), then headed to work, and after that, went home (Denis picked up the kids from kindergarten while the school kids came home themselves)—to cook, do laundry, and clean. This daily rhythm soothed Lena, giving her life purpose and structure. She was hefty (after an illness in childhood, she had to take medication for life), not especially talented, not attractive, but here, at home, she truly felt like she belonged.
Oleg, gentle as a little calf, followed her everywhere, clinging to her skirt and always eager to help, even after he started school he remained her affectionate son. Seryozha became even more withdrawn, especially during his teenage years, hiding behind his hair, which Denis constantly threatened to cut. He spent hours on the computer, never showing anyone what he was doing. Lena once caught a glimpse of some drawings—anime-style, so unusual that she wanted to look closer, but she didn’t dare ask. Maxim kept snapping at her, making it clear in every way that she meant nothing in this house, always saying that the moment he turned eighteen, he’d move out.
Lena was also the one who talked with the teachers and spared Denis the trouble: Maxim caused all sorts of problems at school, Seryozha always struggled with math and physics, and only Oleg was always praised and held up as an example.
“What is going on here!” Denis snapped when the middle one brought home a failing grade for the term. “Why did I buy you a computer? Show me, right now, what you’re doing on there!”
Lena remembered how her mother had read her diary when she was a child, and she never really spoke to her mother normally after that—she held onto that grudge well into adulthood. So this time, Lena stopped Denis in time and didn’t let him touch the computer.
“Leave him be, he’ll fix it, right, Seryozha? He already knows on his own that he needs a good diploma if he wants to go on to study. Look, they only accept students into the art college with straight As.”
“What does art college have to do with anything?” Denis grumbled, still upset. “Let him go become a welder, lazybones!”
A couple of days later, Seryozha came up to Lena and asked:
“Is it true? About the diploma. That you need straight As.”
“It’s true.”
He fell silent, staring at his hands, and then said:
“Maybe I should… get a tutor for math?”
“That’s possible,” Lena smiled. “I’ll find one.”
Not that Seryozha suddenly changed his attitude toward Lena, but she could tell he looked at her differently now. She really wanted Tatiana to find out about this and realize that Lena was in no way worse than her—yes, older, yes, heavier, but not worse. Even better, if Denis understood that too.
Watching Tatiana became an obsession for her. Lena would constantly look at old photos, flipping through family albums where a happy Denis hugged slender Tatiana in a blue dress with a baby bump—that must have been when she was pregnant with Seryozha. Lena would close her eyes and imagine it was her in the picture, not Tatiana. Maybe not as slim, but also in a blue dress, cradling a baby in her belly. Tears would well up in her eyes, and she’d go wash her face with cold water in the bathroom.
That’s how Lena caught Maxim—she suddenly walked into the bathroom and saw him sneaking around his dad’s bag. As soon as Maxim noticed Lena, he jumped back and clenched something tight in his fist.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Lena asked calmly.
Maxim stayed silent.
“If it’s for cigarettes, or something even worse, put it back. But if it’s for a girl, I’ll come up with an excuse for your dad.”
Everyone already knew Maxim had a girlfriend. He never brought her home, but Lena had spotted her through the window—a girl with curly hair and a bright jacket.
Maxim suddenly dropped his head, his ears turned red.
“Aunt Lena… Where do you go if… You know, when a girl… I mean, for an abortion,” he finally blurted out, his words full of resolve.
Lena was dumbfounded.
“What on earth are you talking about, Maxim? An abortion?”
“Maryana’s pregnant. And she’s only seventeen. Her mom will kill her!”
“And who’s the father? Is it you?”
“Well, yes. Me.”
Lena had already figured as much, but she needed a moment to think.
“So… do you love this Maryana?”
Maxim’s ears went even redder.
“That’s my business, who I love.”
“Of course it is, no one’s arguing. But I just don’t get how you could send someone you love to get an abortion.”
“But what else can we do? I’m serious—her mom will kill her! She’s a deputy principal at school, super strict.”
Lena thought that no strict mother or acne-faced kid could ever make her go through with something like that. But she didn’t say that to Maxim.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll talk to your dad myself. And you tell Maryana to pack up her things and move in with us. Got it?”
Maxim stood there blinking in disbelief.
“Move in with us?”
“Yes, just like that. Maxim, you have to take responsibility for what you’ve done. It’s your child, with a beating heart—don’t treat it so lightly. And don’t do this to Maryana either. Sometimes after an abortion, women can never have kids again.”
“Did that happen to you, too?” he asked gloomily.
Lena didn’t let on how much that hurt.
“No. I had cancer. That’s why I wasn’t able to have children. Couldn’t. But now, I’ve got the three of you.”
With that, she walked away, leaving Maxim standing in the hallway.
Maryana did move in with them. Turns out, she was bold and cheerful. Her mother, a strict woman in a dark coat, came by twice. The first time, she demanded Maryana pack her bags and go with her to a gynecologist she knew—“these things are taken care of quickly now, no need to bring shame.” But Maryana refused, hiding behind Maxim, and to his credit, he stood his ground for his fiancée (they already had permission to marry, had gone to the registry office, and set a date). The second time, her mother brought her daughter’s things and announced that she no longer had a daughter. Maryana cried afterwards, and Lena comforted her.
“Once she sees her grandson, she’ll forgive you for sure,” Lena promised.
Denis wasn’t particularly happy about the situation, but he got used to it in the end.
“Well, what can I do, I’ll be a grandpa at forty!” he laughed.
Lena also thought about how Tatyana would become a grandmother too. She wondered if Maxim would let her know, and if so, would she come? All these years, Lena had feared that possibility.
She turned out to be right: when blue-eyed Alyosha was born, Maryana’s mother arrived, took one look at the baby, sighed, and said:
“Well, what’s done is done…”
Lena and she had become friends: sipping tea together in the kitchen, swapping recipes, and chatting about the grandson. She turned out not to be so strict after all, just an ordinary lady who even loves hiking—and now Lena suddenly wanted to go hiking herself.
“Look here,” said Maryana’s mother. “This was me with my fifth graders this year. We baked potatoes—you see, we’re all covered in soot. Nothing tastes better than baked potatoes out in the fresh air!”
Lena couldn’t take her eyes off the photo: the girl holding a potato looked shockingly like Oleg. They could be twins!
“What’s that girl’s name?” she asked, trying her hardest to sound casual.
“Her? That’s Masha Andreyeva. Top of her class—gets all top marks except sometimes a B in PE, otherwise…”
So, Masha. Andreyeva.
Lena didn’t tell anyone, even though she was shaking inside with excitement. To find this girl’s mom, she had to get Katya involved again.
“Are you serious? After all these years? No way… I’ll track her down, even if I have to dig her up from under the floor!”
The mother of Masha Andreyeva was named Galina. Lena got Galina’s number in three days. Before calling, she practiced for an hour, but when she finally did call, she stammered and lost her train of thought. But Galina quickly got the idea.
“So, you’re the mom, then?”
Her voice was cold.
“No,” Lena hurried to reassure her. “I’ll explain everything!”
Lena explained for a long time, unsure how to say things so she’d be understood, but suddenly Galina interrupted her:
“Lena, let’s meet in person and talk.”
From the first moment, Lena could see the girl really was with good people: Galina was calm, smiling, kind, and understanding. She had told Masha at age three that she hadn’t come from her belly, but from another woman; Galina’s only biological child was a boy, and she had adopted two girls—Masha and five-year-old Nastya.
“I don’t know if I should tell her about her father and brothers,” said Galina. “But I’ll think about it.”
Lena was tormented with guilt for hiding this from Denis, and decided she would tell him—it would be harder to say no to a father, especially since Galina knew his story.
Galina called the next day.
“We agree,” she said. “But Masha is very nervous; if it gets too uncomfortable for her, we’ll leave.”
“Of course,” replied Lena happily. “Whatever you say. You can’t imagine how much this means for Denis!”
She worried Denis would be upset that she’d kept the truth from him for several days. But Denis wasn’t offended—just got really nervous, that’s all.
“What if she doesn’t like me?”
“What do you mean, doesn’t like you? You’re her father!”
“What kind of father am I, really…”
The truth was, Lena was nervous too: what if the boys blurted something out, or if Masha asked about her birth mother… She remembered she hadn’t checked Tatyana’s page in a while—started to, then stopped herself. Seeing Tatyana’s new outfit would only upset her. Instead, Lena started picking out a dress.
“Well, Denis, what do you think—does this look okay?” she asked her husband, spinning in a blue polka-dot dress.
“Lenochka, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world!”
“Oh, stop it—you’re exaggerating!”
“He’s not lying,” Maxim suddenly chimed in. “You really are beautiful.”
Something inside Lena shifted, like a string snapping in her heart. Suddenly, she felt both light and warm. Denis stood up, hugged her, and winked at Maxim. And Lena, not hiding her tears, said:
“We’ve finally found our girl! Now everything will be alright.”
And she was right: everything really was alright. Masha turned out to be as sharp as Maxim, a talented artist like Seryozha, and as gentle as Oleg. The families became close friends—Masha and Nastya often visited, spending time with the little one. Masha and Oleg quickly connected, and, surprisingly, she got along with Seryozha too. At first Maxim seemed a bit wary of his sister, but he soon warmed up as well.
“She reminds me so much of Mom,” he once confessed to Lena. “Not her looks, I don’t know… something in her expressions and gestures. Do you think we should tell Mom about Masha? And that I have Alyoshka now too?”
Lena patted him on the shoulder and replied:
“Of course, let her know. It’s the right thing to do.”
And she realized she was no longer jealous or afraid. This was her family, her husband, her children. She was in her place, and Tatyana was in hers. There was nothing left to fight over.