To be closer

"Misiu, don't count on me. I really won't make it. I'll come next time." She looked into Piotrek's eyes; he looked so sad. "Son... I know you're disappointed, but I really can't be at this match today. I'm not taking off work! I'm sure you'll play perfectly without me, too. You did brilliantly last time, and I wasn't there...

" "You weren't there last time, and even before that. You weren't there even once!" Piotruś exclaimed reproachfully.

This time Patrycja didn't know what to say. In fact, she hadn't even come once since her son started playing in inter-school competitions.

"Oh, stop teasing, you'll be late. What time should I take you there?"

She deftly changed the subject, and her son began putting on his jacket, but he kept looking at her with those big, gray eyes. He'd inherited those eyes from her. She knew that if you stare at someone long enough, they eventually soften under the influence of that penetrating gaze. But she couldn't relent now. So she quickly lowered her gaze and went to her room to get her purse.

She returned a moment later. Piotrek was already dressed.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded, so she opened the door, but before they left, she called out,

"Tereska?"

A fair, disheveled head appeared in the doorway. "Yes, Mom?

" "Lock the door and don't open it to anyone. Do your homework, honey; Dad will be back in an hour and a half. Bye. "

She kissed the small, triangular face and was about to leave when she heard,

"And you, Mommy? When will you be back?"

And again those gray, gleaming eyes staring at her. Once again, Patrycja averted her gaze and said quickly,

"I'll be late today."

She left, dragging her son behind her; she didn't want to hear any more reproaches from her children, nor did she want to see the bitterness in their eyes. She quickly closed the door behind her and didn't hear those quiet words: "You'll be late again..."

The street was incredibly busy. Why was everyone so determined to leave the house today? Patrycja was sure she wouldn't make it to her scheduled meeting, no matter how hard she tried. Fortunately, at least Piotrek had stopped nagging her to come to his match. She really wanted to, really wanted to be in the audience this time, but what could she do? She had a business meeting that couldn't be canceled. Her boss would probably kill her if she went. At one point, Piotrek said loudly,

"Mom, I'm asking you for the last time: will you come to my match?" "

I've already told you. Unfortunately, no. "

He was silent for a moment.

"It's here," he said.

"What: here?

" "I get off here.

" "But why?

" "Because Tomek lives here, don't you remember?"

"I remember... but I was supposed to take you to practice..."

"No need, Tomek's father will give us a lift. Don't bother.

" "But son..."

She saw his hard expression. Now he was offended! There was no point in arguing with him. He'd think it over and get over it by tomorrow.

"Fine. You're welcome to get out. Good luck," she said in an equally cold tone.

He got out without a word. He slammed the door as a farewell and was gone. Patrycja propped her head on her hand and closed her eyes. He shouldn't be acting like this, he was fourteen already, couldn't he really understand that work isn't fun? When she had to go, she simply had to, and no one cared whether she felt like it or not, whether she had anything to do or had free time.

Suddenly, she jumped up – she had to go! She was already late, and she was wasting time thinking. She put the key in the ignition and the car started.

The door slammed shut. Mom probably didn't hear Tereska's question about why she'd be back later. And Tereska wanted to ask her what time she'd be back. Oh well, too bad. Tereska locked the door again and again. You always have to be cautious, as her parents said. Mom also told her to do her homework, but it didn't occur to her that Tereska might have already done all her homework. And now the question: what to do? Daddy would be back soon, and then she wouldn't be bored anymore; Daddy would take care of her. First, they'd have a delicious dinner, then they'd play chess or play (...) While she went for a bath, Daddy would watch the news. Then she'd sit on his lap and they'd watch the end of the news together. Tereska understood almost everything they said on TV, and they often discussed world events. During the commercials, they'd bet on the weather forecast. Usually, Tereska was right—she probably knew more about the weather than Dad. And then, when she's really sleepy, Daddy will carry her to bed, tuck her in, and tell her lovely stories until she falls asleep. Daddy doesn't let Teresa watch cartoons on TV too often. He says they're inappropriate for her innocent little eyes. Instead, he reads to her and tells her what he considers appropriate, beautiful, and instructive. He also says that reading develops the imagination and calms her. And Daddy really wants Teresa to grow into a smart, intelligent girl.

Dad claimed that even now, despite being barely nine years old, she amazed everyone with her maturity. He was proud of her; he knew that the time spent with his daughter was, firstly, very enjoyable, and secondly, they could both learn a great deal from each other. He devoted almost every afternoon to his daughter, partly because his wife was absorbed in her career and lately seemed to have completely forgotten that she had a family. He had a steady job, wasn't particularly concerned about a career or promotions, so he tried to compensate his children for their mother's absence. She didn't blame his wife, but he wanted the children to be as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately, this was becoming increasingly difficult. Piotr began to miss his mother's presence, at least Tereska didn't seem particularly unhappy about it.

Tereska looked forward to evenings spent with her father. After school, she did her homework—she did it really quickly, thanks to Daddy—and she had no trouble learning. Then she read, and then she simply couldn't wait for her father to come home.

It was the same this time. She began pacing nervously from the window to the table. "When will Daddy come back?" she thought. She was bored, but Daddy would be back soon, and he would make sure she had something to do. It was a shame Mommy had to go to work again. She could stay home with them for once and spend at least an hour with them. I wonder if Mommy could play chess? Probably not. Tereska couldn't remember Mommy playing any games. But she did remember Mommy's ability to tell beautiful fairy tales. The ones Daddy told were also very nice, but they were completely different—joyful and terribly funny. Tereska laughed out loud whenever Daddy began to change his voice and imitate various animals. She liked these fairy tales; they were full of funny characters, wolves, bears, and cows, but despite this, she longed for Mommy's quiet tales. Mommy told stories about little girls; she didn't try to change her voice; she spoke in her tender, familiar voice. Tereska felt so safe and comfortable then; Mommy kissed her goodnight and patted her head. She fell asleep peacefully and happily. When was the last evening like that? She couldn't remember. It must have been a long time ago. Maybe a year or two, maybe even three. Now Mommy doesn't have time to tuck her in; when Tereska comes home from work, she's already asleep. Besides, even when Mommy sometimes stays home in the afternoon, she doesn't spend any time with Tereska in the evening. She says she doesn't have the energy or time and sits back down at her desk, where a pile of papers still sits. Are these papers really more important than her, Tereska? Sometimes she thinks about sneaking into Mommy's desk at night and tearing up, burning, or throwing all the papers that took her mom away. But she lacks the courage; she thinks Mommy would be very upset, maybe even cry? And Tereska doesn't want that. Without her, Mommy has too many problems. She often walks around terribly upset, can't stand or sit still, and yells at everyone. Other times, she doesn't have the strength to lift a finger. Tereska usually feels sorry for her mother, tries to stay out of her way when she's very angry, and she certainly has no right to add to her worries. She didn't tell anyone, but she missed her mother more and more.

Suddenly, she heard a loud knock on the door. Perhaps the knocker had been knocking for a long time, and she'd been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard it at all. She opened the door, and there stood her father. She saw tension on his face, followed immediately by relief. He held a Yogi Bear mask in his hand – he probably wanted to surprise her.

"Myszka, why did you take so long to open the door?" he asked reproachfully. "I was worried something had happened to you!"

"As you can see, I'm fine," she muttered.

"I see we're not in the mood today?" – he put on a teddy bear mask – tell me, little girl, what happened that there is no smile on that pretty face today?

"Oh, Dad, stop it... I'm too old for this kind of nonsense." She turned on her heel and went to her room. She closed the door behind her, sat down by the bed, and buried her face in the soft, furry pillow. Her wheat-colored hair, delicate as feathers, hid her face. And her father stood in the hallway, completely surprised. She had never reacted like this before, had never considered their games childish. He said to himself, or perhaps to the void,

"What's going on, Tereska?

He lied about where Tomek lived. But his mother didn't even remember it. He could have told her anything, and she would have believed anything. She wanted to get him out of the way, so she was glad she could get him out of there quickly. Of course—she was rushing to work! This job of hers was already getting on Piotrek's nerves. He was happy that she was constantly getting promoted and gaining positions in her company. Financially, they could afford more than most of his friends. He had designer clothes, a modern phone, a stereo system, and several times a year he went on expensive foreign camps. He enjoyed all of this, but they'd managed somehow before Mom started earning more. Dad also works, and his salary isn't all that low. It would cover basic needs. They don't need everything, after all. If anyone had asked him, Piotr, he'd have preferred having Mom closer to him. Teresa probably didn't understand this yet; it didn't bother her that she rarely saw her mother. She spent time with her father every day, playing carefree. She enjoyed the frequent gifts, expensive dolls, toys, and sweets. After all, she was only nine years old, and she wasn't yet aware that Mom was making up for her absence in this way, or even trying to bribe her.

The match went well; she won. The boys were overjoyed—after all, it was one of the most important matches of the season. They wanted to go out for pizza immediately to celebrate. They tried to persuade him for a long time, but he didn't go with them. He wasn't happy about his win; he was tired and wanted to go home. On the way, he passed Tomek's house – the real one.

Entering the house, he expected the joyful sounds of the party that his father and Teresa usually had at this time of day, but he found only dead silence.

"Dad?" he called, "Teresa?"

He thought they might have fallen asleep in front of the television. And indeed – the television was on very quietly, and his father was lying on the couch, asleep. But Tereska wasn't with him. Piotr went to her room. The light was on, and Tereska was curled up on the floor, her back against the bed, asleep. He sat down next to her. Was she beginning to understand something?

It was already completely dark when Patrycja stood in front of her house. She didn't want to wake anyone, so she unlocked the door. She hadn't turned on the hallway light either; the children were probably asleep. When she entered, she noticed that all the lights were off. Was her husband already asleep too? She headed for the bathroom, longing for a warm bath, but first she had to check on the children. Her son's room was dark, and when she opened the door to Tereska's room, her eyes were blinded by the light. The bed was empty, but her children were sleeping against it. What had happened to them? Why hadn't they gone to bed like they did every day? She turned off the light and took Tereska in her arms. She laid her on the bed and covered her with the duvet. Then Piotr woke up. He looked at her blankly and asked,

"What's going on? Where am I?

" "I don't know what you're doing here, son. I think I should ask."

Then he seemed to remember the day before and the arguments with his mother. He instantly came to, stood up, and left the room.

Patrycja sat on her daughter's bed, gazing at her beautiful, small face. She loved them so much, why was she doing this? Maybe precisely because she loved them. A serious conversation with her son awaited her, but it would have to wait until tomorrow.