Luda never liked her daughter-in-law. Not from the very beginning, when Semyon first brought her home to meet the family. He was only twenty at the time, and Luda was used to him always having some girl in the background, but he had never actually introduced anyone at home before. She made it clear early on that she didn’t want a parade of girlfriends in her house.
“Find yourself a fiancée first, and then you can bring her home.”
What Luda meant was that he would find a wife once he finished his studies, got settled, and started earning enough to support a family. That’s how she and her husband had raised their son. So when he announced he was bringing Zhenya home to meet them, she was surprised.
“What for?” she asked.
“Well, you said when I found myself a fiancée, I could bring her. So I did.”
“A fiancée at twenty years old? Are you crazy?”
They had a terrible argument: Luda refused to even hear about any wedding, while her son insisted it was his choice who and when to marry. Her husband stepped in and helped them make peace, but the introduction didn’t go well. The girl was from a village, not stupid, but she had nothing to her name, and she was absolutely smitten with Luda’s son, like a cat in love.
“Looks like we need to start preparing for a wedding, mom,” her husband laughed that evening.
But Luda couldn’t laugh: she didn’t believe anything good would come of this. They were both young and silly—what wedding could possibly come out of that?
“Your grandparents got married at seventeen,” her husband tried to reassure her. “And look, they made it all the way to their golden anniversary.”
“Times are different now,” Luda protested. “They’ve only known each other for three months! What’s the rush? Let them get to know each other, see if they even fit. Let them live together for a while, if they’re in such a hurry!”
“Hey, that’s an idea! Maybe you should kick out the tenants—neighbors complain about them anyway—and let the kids stay there. Let them try living together and see what it’s like.”
Luda liked that idea. She convinced Semyon not to rush into marriage and to just live together for a while instead.
“That’s a surprise,” her son said happily. “I thought you’d be against it. I figured you’d say living together without a wedding was improper.”
“Why would I say that?”
“Well, Zhenya’s mom thinks that way,” he admitted.
“That’s because she’s from the country,” Luda replied. “But we’re modern parents. You two live together—just don’t forget to use protection. You don’t need kids just yet.”
Luda was right: after just six months, Zhenya got pregnant. Of course, her son decided to get married. Luda knew it was Zhenya who insisted.
The wedding was nothing to brag about. Zhenya looked green and kept running to the bathroom, Semyon got drunk and ended up fighting with his groomsman, her husband drank too much and fell asleep at the table, and Luda could barely wake him up. Luda watched all of this with skepticism—how were these two going to make a life together and raise a child, she just couldn’t understand.
The baby girl was born weak and fussy. The mother-in-law came to “help” for a week, but spent most of her time shopping.
“Well, I have my garden, so I’m heading home,” she announced. “I’ve shown you how to swaddle and feed the baby.”
Luda had no choice but to help the young couple herself: she brought them meat patties in containers, bought diapers and clothes for the baby, and gave them money, which was always tight now.
“I told you not to rush things!” Luda grumbled at her son.
And then there’s Zhenya: she just started her new job and already went on maternity leave, so of course the payments are the bare minimum. But she’s still young and wants everything out of life, so she started nagging Semyon. She even complained about him to Lyuda:
“I ask him for money for tights, and he says: ‘Why do you need tights? Just wear jeans.’ But then he keeps checking out girls in skirts—how is that fair?”
Lyuda tried her best to stay strong and silent—for her granddaughter’s sake, since the child didn’t do anything wrong.
“Did I yell like that as a kid too?” Semyon asked. “I get so exhausted from all this noise. Can I at least sleep over at your place sometimes?”
“Absolutely not!” Lyuda exclaimed. “You were in such a hurry to be a grown-up. Well, here you go, enjoy it.”
Life wasn’t great for the young couple. Their daughter was growing, but she was always sick. Semyon would ask his mom for money, and Zhenya kept complaining. Once, Lyuda walked in on an ugly argument—Zhenya was crying, showing Semyon some chat messages with another girl, and Semyon was insisting it was just his friend’s sister.
“You spend more time at that friend’s place than you do at home!” Zhenya shouted.
Drama queen, Lyuda thought to herself. But when things got serious, Zhenya turned out to be different: when Lyuda’s husband suddenly got sick, Zhenya was the first to realize what was happening—she called an ambulance and started performing indirect heart massage.
“They taught us this at university,” she explained.
Lyuda was terrified—she couldn’t imagine living without her husband. The scare took a toll, and she soon came down with the flu herself. But Zhenya came over to take care of her, made soups, and visited her father-in-law in the hospital. Unlike Semyon, who was always at work.
It didn’t take long for Lyuda to find out what kind of work that really was. Her son admitted it himself.
“Mom, I think I’m getting a divorce.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Zhenya turned out to be nothing like I thought. She’s always unhappy, always yelling at me, and she doesn’t take care of herself. She gained ten kilos! It’s been two years since she gave birth and she’s still huge!”
“So what? You think that’s a reason to get divorced?”
“Mom… I fell in love with someone else.”
Looks like Zhenya’s suspicions weren’t unfounded—the so-called friend’s sister wasn’t just an acquaintance.
“I told you not to rush things! So what now? What about Dashenka? She’s still so little.”
“Oh, I’ll just take her on weekends. It’ll be fine.”
But nothing about this was fine. Still, what could Lyuda even do?
Zhenya called her a week later. Her voice was hoarse and lost.
“Lyudmila Petrovna… Can we stay here for at least a month? You know Dasha has therapy, I can’t take her to the village right now. And honestly, I don’t want to go back there. I grew up there myself—there’s no future or education for Dasha. I’d rent a room, but my maternity payments stopped, and you know how little the alimony is…”
Lyuda didn’t understand—she thought she and her son had agreed that Zhenya and the girl could stay in the apartment, at least until things settled down. Her son had moved back home, his room untouched.
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
“Semyon said I have a week to move out. That you told me to leave since it’s your apartment. He’s planning to live here with his…”
Zhenya burst into tears, so much that Lyuda couldn’t make out a word she was saying.
“Alright,” said Lyuda. “Don’t cry. That’s enough now. I’ll come over right away.”
On the way, Lyuda went over all the options in her mind. But no matter how she looked at it, one solution stood out as the right one.
“Pack your things,” she told her.
Zhenya’s face lit up with a brief smile, but it quickly faded away.
“Oh, relax,” Lyuda grimaced. “You’re coming to live with us.”
“What?” Zhenya was caught off guard.
“That’s right. Since I raised such a troublemaker, I’ll take responsibility for him. And how are you supposed to manage here all alone, with no money, no help? You’ll be better off with us. Let him bring his girlfriend along—let’s see how long she lasts. I’m not giving them any money, and you know him, he hates working. He’ll crawl back to you, just wait and see. But if I were you, I wouldn’t be in a hurry to take him back. Maybe it’s all for the best. My husband didn’t leave me when I gained weight because of diabetes. And I stood by him when he ended up on trial. Zhenya, love isn’t just those flings and sweet talk. You and Semyon rushed things, but that’s okay. You’ll find your real love someday. In the meantime, you’ll be like a daughter to us.”
Of course, her son bristled at all this. But Lyuda paid him no mind—let him do what he wants. He can get married again if that’s what he wants. Of course she still loves him and will support him. But she won’t abandon her granddaughter. Or Zhenya, either. She’s really not such a bad daughter-in-law after all…