Such a Pity

Unspoken pain and Hidden Truth

Lidia didn't want to see anyone. Her constant worries caused her temperature to rise, but the COVID-19 test came back negative, and she didn't have any particular pain. The doctor prescribed rest and plenty of fluids, so she had no choice but to stay at home and think about everything. Most of the time, she cried, but her uncle would come in whenever he heard her sobbing and would comfort her by simply sitting next to her, holding her hand, and telling interesting stories from his and her mother's childhood. There were many of these stories, and Lidia listened with fascination and eventually fell asleep, slowly returning to her normal state.

'You know, when your mom was in the seventh grade and I was in the fifth, she used to rough me up a bit. Once, she caught me rummaging through her closet. I was looking for her secret stash of letters from boys because I was in love myself and wanted to see what they wrote to her. I knew they existed. We didn't have a tough childhood, but back then, there was no internet like we have now, and letters were sent by mail. She sneaked up and stood in the doorway, watching as I went through one shelf, then another. And then she suddenly yelled, 'Put my things back, don't you dare touch my underwear! Did you even wash your hands today?'

And I jumped, and all her stuff fell to the floor.
And then she grabbed that rod we used for beating out the blankets, and she came flying at me and hit me with it. I yelled out. Mom and Dad weren't home; both were at work, and she was beating me.'

'I didn't know my Mom had such a temper!' Lidia replied, laughing.

'Oh, she did! And I learned for life that it's forbidden to mess with women's underwear. You could ask my ex-wife—I never touched her things, not even her underwear, I was too scared to.'

Lidia laughed.

'By the way, will you tell me how you and your wife met?'

'At our institute. KPI, we studied together in the same group.'

'Was she also a computer genius?'

'No, her dad got her in through connections, but she graduated from the institute. Though she never worked a single day in her field.'

'Why?' Lidia asked.

'She decided to become an accountant. She worked while studying and only needed the degree as a formality.'

'Is she an accountant here?' Lidia asked.

'No, here she's a housewife. She lives on my salary.'

'But you're divorced.'

'Yes, but she's not remarried, and neither am I, so I pay alimony. But that's fine, she lives off that. The important thing is that the kids are fed and happy.'

'Will you ever introduce us? Why haven't I met them?' the girl asked again.

'Why don't your kids ever come?' she asked.

'There are reasons for that. You'll find out soon. But...'

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

He stood up. 'Are we expecting someone?' Uncle Nick asked.

Lidia shrugged.

He went to open the door. From the hallway, she could hear a faint girl's voice. She got up and listened, trying to figure out who it could be.

Her uncle returned.

'Lidia, you have a visitor.'

He stepped aside, letting Mila in, who was holding a box of donuts.

'I don't think you were expecting me, but I just wanted to ask how you're feeling,' Mila asked.

'Fine,' Lidia replied, but after sitting for so long with a fever, she felt dizzy and lay back down.

'Alright,' Mila added. 'I wanted to apologize. Maybe I said or did something wrong, and that's why you're upset with me. So, sorry. This is for you. For tea.'

Mila turned to leave, but Lidia stopped her.

'You didn't do anything wrong. I just didn't know your parents were from Russia. And... that's a sensitive topic for me.'

'Oh, that's why,' Mila said. 'I understand. I didn't think it mattered because they moved here long before the war, and my mom is from Crimea—Ukrainian Crimea. And by the way, they often send help and donate. I was born here and have never seen Russia in my life. But if that's why you still consider me Russian, then I'm sorry. I'm an American citizen by passport. And both my parents are, too. So... alright, I'll go. Get well soon. If you want to talk, I'm here.'

'What about your dad's relatives?' Lidiya asked, gathering the courage.

'He lost all contact with them a long time ago and doesn't even know if they're still alive. They almost disowned him when he won the Green Card. They considered him a traitor back then. I'd like to know what happened to my relatives on that side, but... we live with my mom's mom. After her father's death, she brought her mom here, and then the war started, and... well, you understand. There was nowhere to go back to.'

Lidia sighed.

'Do you really think I would help you with Ukrainian booth if I didn't want to? Maybe I'm Russian on my father's side, but are children from mixed marriages who weren't even born in Russia to blame for what's happening? That's why I don't understand your questions,' Mila added.

And then Lidia told her something that none of her other friends knew—about the war. About how she was miraculously saved because she had stayed overnight at a friend's house on her day off, and when she returned home, she found a destroyed apartment building from which lifeless bodies were being pulled out, including all her loved ones, her whole world: her mother, grandmother, and father. She spoke about the hatred that has been engraved in the souls of those who remained there, a hatred toward everything Russian. She explained how the language issue has become almost taboo now, and how she herself had always spoken Russian at home because it used to be normal and acceptable, even when the war started and Crimea and the Donetsk region were occupied. She spoke about her friend who saved her life but is still in danger, and how she hasn't heard from her for several days, with no response to her calls. She talked about the hundreds of children who died because of Russia's aggression, about how people are throwing away or burning books by Pushkin, Tolstoy, and even some by Gogol, because he seemed to mock the Ukrainian village—a topic that has become even more painful. And she talked about how she would never forget that day...

They both cried together. Her uncle didn't come in. He sat by the door, not even working on his computer. He heard everything and was barely holding back his own tears.