The guests were scattered, the instruments were rang. Oksana quietly took a loose chair from the edge, closer to the exit of the room. She did not want to participate in a secular conversation, but she was waiting for the main number of the program. Bogdan was sitting at the head of the table.
Having spread his shoulders, he poured into complex words such as “supply logistics”, “market diversification” and “confectionery development vector”. The mother’s girlfriends listened to him with his mouths open, periodically casting slashes at Oksana.
“How lucky you are with him, Oksanochka!” Lyudmila Stepanovna sighed pretendingly, hooking a piece of bouzhenina on the fork. “Such an eagle!” He probably needs a full rest at home, and you’re all messing with your numbers. A woman should keep a hearth, not in the calculator to poke.
- I’m doing it slowly.
Oksana smiled politely. Galina Mikhailovna threw a warning look at the bride. She didn’t like it when Oksana gave her voice. In her perfect picture of the world, the daughter-in-law had to bring food, remain silent and admire her husband.
