The clock was nearing noon when Ilya finally managed to call his beloved wife.
“Yana, I’m alive and well. I’ll be home soon. There was an accident at the mine, but we’re just heading back to base now.”
“Thank God, Ilya! I already called the dispatcher; he told me everything. I’m waiting for you.”
Ilya’s heart sank. Today was March 8th — not just International Women’s Day, but also Yana’s birthday. Everything had been going smoothly, just a couple of hours left in his shift, and all was calm. Then the alarm sounded: a fire had broken out in one of the mine tunnels. They fought the blaze and rescued the trapped miners. Thankfully, no one was hurt.
Ilya was part of the mine rescue team — tall, strong, and kind-hearted, qualities that made Yana fall in love with him.
Stepping outside, Ilya faced a relentless downpour. Not ideal weather for a city-wide flower hunt. Yana didn’t expect grand bouquets, but still… two celebrations in one day deserved something special.
Their small mining town had few flower shops, so Ilya didn’t count on the one near their home and set off toward the city center. One stall was already closed, and the other had only roses with an unpleasant hue left. He’d have to go to his usual shop — even though the owner, Galina, was notoriously unfriendly.
Soaking wet, Ilya pushed open the flower shop door, where Galina was counting her day’s earnings.
“Hello! Happy holiday!” Ilya greeted warmly.
“Thanks,” the woman replied curtly.
“I’d like some flowers.”
“They’re all right here; pick what you like,” she said, motioning to the indoor plants and flowers.
Ilya scanned the offerings — roses again, some gerberas…
“Do you have any nice tulips?”
“Young man, if you wanted good tulips, you’d have come earlier. Not this late.”
“I got held up at work.”
“Yeah, we know how men get held up at work… and with whom.”
“Come on, that’s not me.”
“All men are the same… But I have a bouquet someone ordered but never picked up.”
As lunchtime approached, Ilya was finally able to call his wife again:
“Yana, I’m alive.”
Galina led him into the next room, filled with souvenirs on shelves. On a small table stood a stunning bouquet of fringed purple and white tulips.
“Beautiful! How much?”
“One thousand five hundred rubles.”
Ilya hesitated; he only had a thousand on him. Should he ask her to hold it and run home for the rest? The house was close, but he knew Yana wouldn’t let him leave again. So he turned to leave.
“What’s with men these days… looking for flowers but no money in their pockets,” Galina muttered.
“They’re decent men. I’m not coming back from some party — I’ve been on shift all night, there was an accident at the mine, we rescued people. I have money; I’m just a bit short,” Ilya explained nervously.
Outside, the rain poured harder. Galina watched him from the window, feeling uneasy. She’d heard from customers about the fire at the city’s largest mine this morning. “So this guy saved lives, now rushing home to his wife, hunting for flowers, and I was so rude…” she thought. She planned to close soon and visit a friend — also lonely — to spend the evening together.
Suddenly, an elderly woman approached Ilya on the street and gently tugged his sleeve, guiding him toward the courtyard of an old two-story building across the street.
“Dear grandma, I really can’t stop, I’m in a hurry.”
“Sonny, sweetheart, there’s no one else to help. It’ll take ten minutes. Please.”
As they walked, the old woman told him that someone had left two tiny kittens in her building’s entrance. She’d gone home for milk to feed them, but when she returned, the kittens had climbed a tree and couldn’t get down, crying loudly.
“My neighbors aren’t kind; they always complain about me feeding dogs and cats. It’s getting late; I can’t leave them up there.”
They reached the spot, and indeed, the kittens were wailing across the courtyard — small, drenched, dirty, but both fiery ginger. Ilya climbed the tree easily, lifted the kittens, and held them close, feeling their tiny hearts beating. The cries stopped as the kittens looked up at him with eyes shimmering blue with a violet tint.
“Well, they’re identical,” Galina said.
“You can’t tell by looks, but one’s a boy, the other a girl. I saw right away,” the old lady explained.
“Maybe brother and sister?”
“Maybe. Who could have abandoned such tiny ones, especially redheads? You can’t throw away red cats — they bring luck.”
“Red cats? Luck?”
“Yes, it’s a proven superstition.”
“Where will you take them now?”
“I have four pets already. I’ll keep them for now and take them to the market tomorrow — maybe someone will take them for good luck.”
“No market! Don’t separate them if they’re siblings. I’ll take the lucky charm myself.”
Ilya imagined the poor old lady wandering the market with kittens, offering them to people. If she couldn’t give them away, she’d bring them home again, and the neighbors would complain anew.
“Son, God bless you. There are still kind people in the world.”
The kittens were very lively, climbing on Ilya’s neck and head, claws sharp enough to tear his jacket. He realized he couldn’t carry them home like that. Then he remembered the souvenir section in the flower shop — the same place with the tulip bouquet. Maybe the owner had a cardboard box?
The shop door was open but the lights were off.
“Sorry, it’s me again, need your help.”
“Just in time! I was about to close. Here for a bouquet?”
“No, do you have a spare cardboard box for souvenirs?”
Galina raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned on the lights. Ilya was holding two tiny, dripping kittens close to his chest.
“Please help. I can’t carry them like this. Maybe you have an extra box?”
“Oh my goodness, where did you find them?”
“From a tree. The old lady asked me. I can’t get home otherwise.”
“Ah, I see. I was just wondering where that old lady dragged you.”
“They’re redheads, you can’t throw them away. They bring luck.”
“Luck?”
“Yes, it’s a superstition.”
Galina looked at Ilya in disbelief. “Such different people live in this world. A regular guy, can’t get to his beloved wife, saves someone’s life instead.” She finally noticed his kind face… strong hands gently calming the frightened kittens.
“Of course, I have a box.”
Galina not only fetched a cardboard box from storage but helped cut ventilation holes and sealed the top with tape so the kittens couldn’t escape.
“Thank you so much. And happy holiday again! Sorry for the trouble.”
Ilya headed toward the exit and was about to open the door when the shop owner called out,
“Wait, young man. What’s your name?”
“Ilya.”
“You forgot the flowers, Ilyusha.”
“No, really…”
“You don’t understand, no payment needed. Take the bouquet.”
Galina handed Ilya the fringed purple-and-white tulip bouquet.
“I can’t accept that. I have a thousand rubles, I’ll pay you the rest tomorrow, okay?”
“I can. No ‘okay.’ No need to pay now or later. It’s for your wife. She’s lucky to have a husband like you, so tell her.”
“Thank you!”
Finally, Ilya headed home, while Galina watched the young man with the kind heart, tulip bouquet, and box of luck for a long time.
Ilya quietly opened the door with his key. Yana heard and immediately came out into the hallway.
“My love, happy birthday and happy March 8th. I’m finally home.”
“Thank you, Ilyusha! What a beautiful color tulip bouquet! I’ve never seen these colors before. Did you search the whole city for these flowers?”
“I looked for flowers and found a box of luck too.”
He placed the cardboard box on the ottoman, peeled off the tape, and opened it. Four pairs of blue-violet eyes looked back at Yana and Ilya from the kittens cuddled together in one corner.
“You’re all so wet! Okay, Ilya, you get the first bath, then the babies.”
After a long shift, a city search, and a hot bath, Ilya was exhausted.
“Yana, I’m going to lie down for an hour.”
“Of course, you need to rest. When you wake up, we’ll celebrate.”
“Will you manage with them on your own?”
“No problem. Look how well-behaved they are.”
The kittens sat quietly by the box in the hall. Yana didn’t rush them, letting them adjust at their own pace. But the kittens seemed hesitant, as if unsure this was their new home.
Ilya fell asleep, and Yana bathed the kittens with shampoo and dried them when her phone rang — it was her older sister, Lera.
“How are you guys? Celebrating?”
“Not yet. Ilya had a tough shift. He’s just waking up, then we’ll celebrate.”
“Are you lonely?”
“No, not at all. My husband gave me a box of luck.”
“A box of what?”
“You’ll see tomorrow when you come over.”
“Well, Ilya is quite the character.”
“He’s the best.”
Late into the night, Yana and Ilya sat drinking champagne. It had become their tradition to celebrate March 8th together, then host family and friends the following day. They watched the new family members settle in. The kittens, full and fluffy after their bath, busily explored the room.
Meanwhile, across town, two mature but lonely women with successful businesses raised their glasses to “beauty and luck in business.” But one of them secretly wished for someone to do what Ilya had done—search the city in pouring rain for tulips and bring home a box of luck.