Dedicated to healthcare workers. After all, they too have personal lives. They fall in love, argue and make up, raise children. And so, this story is about unexpected, genuine, heartfelt, and sacrificial love—love that often takes time to find, lost amidst deception and ill-wishers. It’s also about friends, who frequently save us not only from troubles but from our own mistakes as well.
Summary
Dina Akulenko, a single mom to three-year-old Nastya, had nearly given up hope of finding a decent job in her field. She longed to work as a doctor, not just as a senior lab assistant at the university department where everyone knew that the father of her child had abandoned both Dina and their daughter. When a friend mentioned an opening for an on-call doctor in the therapeutic ward, Dina didn’t hold out much hope. She doubted she’d land the position without connections. But to her surprise, the department head approved her application—and then asked her out on a date, her first in three years. How will her new colleagues react to this? And what about another coworker who’s also taken an interest in her?
Chapter 1
On that memorable day—not just for her, but perhaps for everyone who would soon be part of the unfolding events—Dina Akulenko was scrubbing the kitchen stove to a shine after a pot of milk had boiled over. As she worked, she couldn’t help but think how the modern world had become so much brighter, almost saturated with vibrant colors and sounds, and endlessly fascinating in its often peculiar ways. Yet, it was also more hectic. Quiet, lingering, slightly drowsy but pleasant days were becoming rare, and slow, heartfelt conversations had nearly vanished from everyday life. In their place came chats. Endless chats. Only those who couldn’t or didn’t want to squint at tiny text on screens, or those who couldn’t read at all, seemed to escape them.
Nastya, Dina’s three-year-old daughter, fell into the latter category of smartphone users for now. But that didn’t stop the little girl from regularly swiping her mom’s phone to sneak a peek at YouTube. Grandma Zoya, who belonged to the first group and preferred big buttons with clearly visible letters and numbers, constantly tried to coax or even scold stubborn Nastya, offering fairy tales, coloring books, playdough, and paints as distractions. Her great-granddaughter listened attentively but always demanded “the phone” as background entertainment.
Dina’s laptop had given up the ghost last year, and their small family didn’t have the money for repairs or a new one. The only silver lining was that Nastya wasn’t drawn to the darkened screen.
Unfortunately, the TV, which Grandma Zoya adored, only held the child’s attention for a short while. If there had been a tablet in their two-bedroom apartment, it would undoubtedly have topped Nastya’s list of priorities. But such a luxury was beyond the means of their little household. There were too many other “holes” to patch first.
So, when a lively ringtone sounded from Dina’s purse, Nastya was the first to dash toward the familiar noise, shouting on the run, “I want the phone!”
Frustrated, Dina—hoping it would only be a brief interruption—left the stove, peeled off her gloves, and went to convince her daughter to hand over the beleaguered device.
The little fidget had already pressed the answer button, listening intently to someone’s voice and responding with monosyllabic “yes” or “no.” Spotting her mom, Nastya turned her back and continued the conversation.
“Nastya, give Mommy the phone,” Dina said, only to be predictably ignored. “Please,” she added, remembering the importance of proper manners.
Nastya shook her head and let out another “no,” which might have been directed at Dina’s plea or the person on the line.
“Nastya, let’s go build with blocks,” Grandma Zoya chimed in, emerging from her room with knitting needles in hand. “With that, what’s-his-name, Spider-Man, God help us.”
In response, her granddaughter turned to face the corner of the room where, thanks to Grandma’s efforts, she usually served her timeouts, and exclaimed, “Yeah!”
The two women exchanged a look. Dina desperately didn’t want to take the phone by force, but someone might be calling about something important.
“From the department on a Saturday?”
Dina sighed. It had been almost a year since her maternity leave ended, and she’d been working as a senior lab assistant in the therapy department. Her hope of finishing the dissertation she’d started before Nastya’s birth had nearly faded. Even if she completed the practical part and the text itself, she didn’t have the funds for the defense. Back when she worked as a doctor, her earnings hadn’t been much to boast about, and now she was almost embarrassed to admit her income.
Unfortunately, landing a doctor’s position in city medical facilities had always been incredibly difficult—if not outright impossible. Years ago, swayed by Denis, the man she’d seriously planned to marry, or rather, due to her own naivety, Dina had lost her position as a therapist in a hospital ward. Now, in desperation, she was kicking herself. She’d even started considering further education. But starting over at thirty-two was far harder than in her carefree, unburdened youth. All she could do was keep knocking on the doors of hospitals and clinics.
“Once Nastya starts preschool, then… The phone!”
Dina gently stroked her daughter’s auburn head.
“Sweetie, Mommy really needs to talk…” Was that a woman’s voice on the line? “...to the lady.”
Nastya, unfazed, replied to someone very patient or persistent on the other end:
“No.”
“Nastya, want some ice cream?” Grandma Zoya asked with a resigned tone.
The little girl immediately said “Bye” into the phone, thrust the much-abused device into her mom’s hands, and raced to the kitchen. Grandma Zoya shuffled after her.
“What a word she knows,” Dina thought, surprised, before finally answering:
“Hello?”
“It’s me. I just adore your Nastya. Our Nastya,” corrected Valya Nosik, Dina’s friend and Nastya’s godmother. “It’s nice to chat with someone.”
Dina laughed.
“That’s obvious. For you, the best part is when no one interrupts.”
“You’re always shutting me up,” Valya said, feigning offense.
“I don’t recall doing that,” Dina countered. “Where are you? Out doing your garden workout?”
Valya’s parents were avid gardeners and roped the whole family into their hobby, especially their daughter.
“Don’t remind me!” Valya groaned. “I’m on duty.”
“Should I feel sorry for you?”
“Compared to the garden… Nah, don’t bother. It’s quiet here today. Over the weekend, only the bedridden patients are left. The ones who can walk, well, you know where they are in May.”
“I know. So, are you just calling to chat? If that’s all, I’ll call you back later…”
“I’ve got news, real news. If you hang up without listening, you’ll regret it.”
“Regret it? I doubt that, but I’m listening. What’s up? Did that Marat of yours get married or something?”
Dr. Marat Bal was the main topic of Valya’s conversations. The charming playboy had caught the eye of many female staff at the city hospital where Valya worked. Dina had never met him, but she’d heard so much about him that she’d probably recognize him on sight.
“What?! Knock on wood. If that happened, who would we gossip about? The only entertainment around here is dishing on handsome Bal and his latest fling.”
“If it’s not about him, then what?” Dina interrupted. Valya could go on forever about this, and Dina still had a stove to clean.
“It’s about the boss—our department head.”
Dina tried to recall the name of Valya’s supervisor but drew a blank.
“What about him?”
“Nothing’s wrong with him, but with you…”
“I don’t get it. What do I have to do with this?”
Dina sank onto the couch. This conversation was dragging on, but she had to admit, Valya had piqued her curiosity.
“Everything. Aren’t you the one looking for a job, or have you given up?”
Really?
“I’m looking. Is there an opening?”
“Exactly. Our on-call doctor is getting married in a rush and moving abroad with her fiancé next week. I don’t know all the details yet, but I’ll find out. She kept it hush-hush to avoid jinxing it. Anyway, the department urgently needs a doctor now, and Tikhiy is ready to take anyone. He just needs someone to cover the shifts.”
“And?”
“He must be so desperate that today, right in the hallway, Igor Alexandrovich cornered me and demanded I find someone.”
“Cornered you? Demanded?”
“Well, he stopped me and asked if I knew anyone suitable. What’s the difference? Are you interested or not?”
“Of course I am! It just sounds… odd.”
“How long are you going to look for hidden agendas in everything?” Valya started firmly but quickly softened her tone. “I get it, you’ve got reasons to be wary, and all that. But what do you have to lose? A high-paying, promising position?”
“It still pays something,” Dina retorted, more out of stubbornness than conviction.
“Oh, spare me! Can you even call that money? You’ll earn more on call.”
Not by much, though.
“Would they let me work part-time?”
“Ask Tikhiy yourself. He’s expecting you by three o’clock. So hurry, or he’ll keep looking.”
“You promised I’d come?!”
“Are you busy with something important?”
Aside from housework, no, but still, just like that…
“You could’ve asked me first if I could make it. I’ve got Nastya and the stove…”
“And in that time, Tikhiy might find someone else.”
“But you said it’s hard to find someone.”
“A minute ago, it was hard. A minute later—bam, someone shows up. You can’t snooze on this. And honestly, how long are you going to give me a hard time? Who am I doing this for?”
“Thanks.”
“That’s more like it. Get moving and come over here. You’ve only got an hour left.”
“But…”
“And now it’s a minute less.”