— Денисе, розвертай машину! До батьків! — її голос зірвався, коли вона зазирнула в багажник....

The phone rang at half past five on Friday, while Oksana was still sitting at her desk, finishing up her report. — Donya, can you and Denis come to the dacha now? — her mother said in a pleading tone, without even greeting. — There's a problem. Lyuda got sick, and Anna Stepanovna and I won't have time to pick strawberries ourselves by Sunday. — Mom, it's Friday, evening, I really wanted to rest... — Oksana, this is for two days only. We'll pick it up, hand it over to the market on Sunday — and that's it, we're free. You didn't have anything planned for the weekend anyway, did you? Oksana looked at the phone screen, where a message from Denis was already flashing: "I'll pick you up at six, I have a doctor's appointment at seven." — Mom, I'll call you back in ten minutes, — she said and hung up.