My family and Mark’s family had lived next door to each other for generations. Our fathers had even been best friends when we were children, but because I liked the letter carrier’s son, my father could not calm down. He himself worked in a factory, and although he supported his friend, he didn’t want to pass me off as the letter carrier’s son. It’s a good thing that times are different now, and no one needs my parents’ blessing. We got married without parental consent, but we needed somewhere to live, so we asked my father. He wouldn’t accept Mark. We had to go live with him.
Mark’s mother constantly demanded a lot from me, and when I complained to my mother, she told my father, and as a result everyone was fighting. Dad couldn’t solve problems with words, so the only sure way was for him to come to the neighbor’s house, grab my arm, and try to drag me along, telling me that Mark wasn’t right for me.
Thank goodness Mark got a job in town. It was possible to commute from the village, but it was a long way, so we decided that even though it wasn’t very cheap, we would rent an apartment there. It was the best decision of our lives. Thanks to the move, my parents’ quarrels were left behind, and I got a job in a clothing store on my own. Mark and I had a decent income, and by our fourth anniversary, my parents were helping us buy an apartment. My dad plowed all summer on the tractor for that, and Mark’s parents sold their horse. But I can see they’re doing fine without us. Again, they are all good neighbors and friends, and there is no drama between them.
More and more often I think that Mark and I provoked them to quarrel, constantly flashing our eyes and complaining about each other. Now there’s no one to complain about, and we’re doing great!