— You understand I don’t need you hanging around here, right? — Maksim said to his wife. — So I suggest you move to the countryside.
— What countryside, Maksim? What are you talking about?
For Tamara, it didn’t matter anymore. She had been betrayed by the person closest to her. They had started from scratch together. Tamara had sold her apartment, and Maksim had sold his room in a communal apartment to launch their business. They had rented one place after another, saving every penny. Thanks to Tamara’s brilliant mind, they had finally gotten back on their feet.
Then Maksim started acting like a king. Tamara hadn’t expected such a betrayal from her husband, and that’s exactly why she didn’t see how he transferred everything to his name so cleverly that, in case of divorce, nothing would be left for her. When it was all set, he asked for a divorce.
— Maksim, do you really think you’re acting properly? — she asked.
He sneered.
— Don’t start. It’s been a while since you contributed anything. I do everything alone while you do nothing.
— You were the one saying you could manage without me, that I should rest and take time for myself.
— Pff, I’m tired of all this useless chatter. Anyway, there’s a house or a farm — something my former boss left me as an inheritance. Remember Ivanovitch? He remembered how I helped him. He died and left me this little place. It’s perfect for you. If you don’t like it, you’ll leave empty-handed.
Tamara gave a bitter smile. She no longer doubted that her husband would do exactly that. She felt like she had lived with a stranger for twelve years.
— Fine, but on one condition: you officially transfer the farm to me.
— Of course, no problem. Less taxes for me.
Tamara said no more. She packed her bags and went to a hotel. She decided to start over. No matter what awaited her — a ruin or a piece of empty land — she would see, evaluate, and if it wasn’t worth it, she would go back to the city and start anew there or elsewhere.
Tamara looked at the car, satisfied. She couldn’t take it anymore: it was loaded to the brim. The rest could stay with Maksim and his mistress…
If Maksim counted on his mistress’s intelligence and help, he would be bitterly disappointed. The girl wasn’t a genius but had arrogance to spare. Tamara had seen her two or three times. If she was not mistaken, she was Maksim’s former secretary.
Maksim handed her the papers, and Tamara took them calmly.
— Good luck, — she said.
Her husband burst out laughing.
— You too. Send me a photo with the cows.
Tamara got into the car but didn’t respond. She simply closed the door and left. Only when she was out of town did she stop and let her tears fall. She didn’t know how long she cried. She only pulled herself together when someone gently knocked on the window.
— Sweetheart, are you okay? My husband and I are at the bus stop, and you’re crying and crying… That’s not right.
Tamara looked at the old lady with gray hair, not understanding where she came from. Then she spotted the bus stop in the rearview mirror and smiled.
— It’s okay, just the stress, — she said.
She got out of the car. The old lady continued:
— We were going to visit a neighbor. She’s in the district hospital, all alone — no one to visit her. Now we’re going back. Maybe we’re going the same way? We’re headed to Mikhalki.
Tamara raised her eyebrows.
— That’s the Mikhalki where the farm is?
— The very same. But now, the “farm” is only a name. The former owner died, and for some reason, there hasn’t been a new one. But people still work there out of habit and pity for the animals.
Tamara smiled.
— You won’t believe it, but I’m actually going to that village. Let me make some room, and I’ll give you a ride.
The grandmother sat beside her while the grandfather took the back seat. He chuckled.
— Ah, I already feel like a parcel or a bag.
After a while, the grandmother turned to Tamara.
— And you, what’s your name, dear?
— Tamara.
— Beautiful name, very sweet. I’m Valentina Egorovna, and my husband is Mikhail Stepanovich.
— Nice to meet you.
— The pleasure’s ours. Most people wouldn’t have even picked us up; we’d still be rattling on the bus. Are you here for work, or what? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.
Tamara answered enthusiastically:
— I’m the new owner of the farm. It happened by chance; I don’t know much about it. Maybe you can tell me what’s going on and what you know about it?
When they arrived, Tamara already knew a lot: who was stealing from a farm where almost nothing was left, and who was actually taking care of it.
The farm used to supply milk to many stores, but now hardly anyone was left, and there were only about twenty cows.
— How many? — Tamara’s eyes widened in shock. She thought there were three or four.
— There used to be many more; most were sold. Ivanovitch also cultivated the fields, and the cows were well-fed. Back then, people earned well. And you, Tamara, what do you plan to do? Sell everything or try to revive it?
— I’ll decide once I get there. By the way, my documents mention a house. Can you show me where it is?
— Of course, you’ll recognize it right away. It’s the only modern house we have.
Tamara sighed with relief. At least she’d have somewhere to live. She feared it would be a shack.
A year passed. Tamara walked through the farm, and her eighty cows looked at her gratefully.
Tamara was proud of herself. At first, when she arrived, she wanted to close her eyes and run away: there was no forage, and the fields were overgrown. But Tamara wasn’t one to give up when faced with difficulties.
Yes, it took work and struggle. Every penny she had went into buying food. She sold all her jewelry and invested all the money into the farm. And today, she could proudly say she had succeeded.
Sales started again; calls came from neighboring regions. People wanted their products, even things they hadn’t started making yet. For example, the cheese factory was still under construction.
Tamara thought about buying two refrigerated trucks to deliver products all year round. New ones were too expensive, but she could consider used ones.
— Tamara Igorievna! Tamara Igorievna! — A young girl, Sveta, ran up to her.
Sveta came from a large family. Her parents drank a lot, and she dreamed of living on her own. But without work and means to move to the city, she was also close to rock bottom. Now, she was unrecognizable: well-dressed, bright-eyed, occasionally sending bags of provisions to her parents.
— What is it? — Tamara asked.
— I found it!
— What?
The young girl was resourceful — polite and enterprising — but too emotional.
— Look at this ad. — Sveta handed her a newspaper where an ad for the sale of two refrigerated trucks was circled. The price was attractive because the sale was urgent.
Tamara read carefully. It was clear they’d need an expert to check the vehicles, but the price was tempting.
Suddenly, she froze, newspaper still in hand. The phone number on the ad belonged to her ex-husband’s office. Tamara smiled slyly. It seemed his business wasn’t going well. Or maybe the opposite: maybe he was expanding and moving to bigger vehicles.
— Call them, Sveta. Make an appointment. Tell them we’ll add five percent if they don’t show the vehicles to anyone else before us. I’ll find someone to check them.
Tamara had money in the bank; she needed those trucks, and meeting her ex-husband didn’t worry her at all: it was just business. She looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad: country life had made her healthier, tanned, and overall stronger.
Half an hour later, the person recommended to her as the best mechanic arrived. Ivan stared at her so intensely that Tamara felt embarrassed.
— Is there a problem? Why are you looking at me like that…
— Sorry, I didn’t expect this. You know, “farm” makes one think of local women with scarves and rubber boots.
— I have all that for working — Tamara replied pragmatically. — But right now, I’m going to the city; I don’t need it.
During the trip, Ivan mentioned he owned two small workshops. He lost his wife five years ago; he said it in passing, and Tamara didn’t press. Otherwise, he was a great talker, and she almost forgot the purpose of the trip.
— Ivan, slow down near that building — she asked.
— Here we are. What’s up?
— I used to work here. I’m going to buy a truck from my husband. My ex-husband. He didn’t need me anymore, no more than the farm that fell to him as an inheritance. He got rid of both at once.
— Come on. I don’t believe it. What sane person would let someone like you go, especially getting rid of you? Let’s go. I want to see this idiot with my own eyes. — He paused, then smiled. — Don’t worry, I’m with you. I won’t let you get scammed a second time.
Tamara was sincerely grateful to him. Even though time had passed, she still felt a slight unease.
— Maxie, where are your buyers? — Alla asked.
Maksim sighed deeply. Lately, he did nothing but sigh. Four negotiations prepared by Alla had spectacularly failed. She always had an excuse: “It’s not my fault they’re idiots.”
Money was catastrophically tight, especially considering how fast Alla spent it. Trucks weren’t the first thing Maksim had to sell. He didn’t even have enough to pay the remaining employees.
