She strode majestically into the hallway. I went to see her out. As my mother-in-law was putting on her shoes, her cell phone rang inside her purse. She hurried to pull it out, glanced at the screen, and before she even made it out the door, she answered the call.
“Yes, Zinochka, everything’s fine!” she chirped loudly, thinking I’d already retreated to the kitchen, though I was just a couple steps away around the corner. “Yes, it’s all arranged. Pashka and Anya will host you. And you know, I was thinking… Since they have that spare room anyway, why shouldn’t Lenochka and her Edik move in after the wedding? Just for a year, until they get settled. Edik will look for work in the city. Why not? Family should help each other! Tomorrow in the car, I’ll gently bring it up with Anya. Where will she go if I say it in front of everyone?”
My fingers balled into fists all on their own. So, the two-hundred-thousand ruble dress was just a warm-up. The real plan was to turn my home into a free hostel for near-strangers and my husband into the sponsor of someone else’s city comfort. Irina Viktorovna wasn’t just taking over my weekends—she was generously handing out pieces of my life.
The front door’s lock clicked shut. I returned to the kitchen.
Pavel looked at me with open confusion in his eyes.
“Anya, are you out of your mind?” he asked, breaking the silence in the now-empty kitchen. “What designer? What Zinaida in our house? Why did you stop me? I would’ve put an end to all these family ties right there!”
I walked over to the windowsill and scratched Boethius behind the ear. The cat purred, sounding like a diesel engine.
“Pasha,” I turned to my husband, “if you’d stopped her just now, she would’ve told all the relatives that we’re ungrateful. Zinaida would’ve called us crying. Mom would take calming drops and tell the neighbors you betrayed her. But that’s not even the main issue. I just overheard her phone call in the hallway. The dress is nothing. Your mom promised Zinaida that after the wedding, Lena and her fiancé will move into our study. For a year.”
Pavel’s face went blank. He blinked several times, trying to process what I’d said.
“Who? Move where?” he repeated, his voice cracking.
“Into our study. For a year,” I replied calmly. “Mom plans to corner us in the car tomorrow, with everyone present, and force us to agree.”
Pavel rubbed his face with his hands.
“This is too much. That’s it, I’m calling her right now and canceling this whole guest thing. No one’s coming over. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.”
“No,” I stopped his hand as he reached for the phone. “It’s easy to demand independence from others when someone else is footing the bill. Your mom just set some new rules for our home—shared space, shared money, unconditional help for family. I think we should really embrace these wonderful traditions.”
I pulled my notebook out of the desk drawer.
“What are you up to?” Pavel asked warily, recognizing the look on my face. It was the same look I had three years ago when I won a nice compensation from a shady developer, simply by reading their own contract carefully.
“Just making a list of things for the trip,” I replied. “Pasha, darling, didn’t you say you wanted to go to that country resort in the pine forest? The one with the saunas, massages, and great dining hall?”
“Yes,” he answered cautiously. “But we were planning to go next month.”
“Plans change. We’re going this Saturday. In the morning. Around nine.”
Pavel frowned, trying to piece together the new developments.
“Wait. What about Mom? And Zinaida and Lenochka? They’re coming here Friday evening.”
“Exactly. They’ll come here. To the apartment that, according to Irina Viktorovna, belongs to the whole family. They’ll go to bed. And in the morning, we’ll quietly pack up, get into our nice clean car, and leave for two days.”
Pavel’s eyes slowly widened as he realized what I was planning for his mother.
“But Mom is coming at ten in the morning… for the money and the car.”
“Mom will arrive to find a hungry Zinaida and Lenochka, who’s waiting for her designer dress, sitting in the apartment. She’ll realize we’re gone. The car’s gone. And, of course, the money is gone too. She’ll have to entertain the guests, drive them around town, and pay for everything herself, just like a true hostess and the one who started this little family get-together. After all, she promised! She’ll also get to explain why no one will let them stay in our study.”
A wide, anticipatory grin slowly spread across my husband’s face. He knew his mom never listened to lectures or reasoning, but a hit to her own wallet would sink in instantly.
“Anya… But they’ll eat everything in the fridge! We’ve got supplies for a week in there.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered too,” I assured him.
Friday arrived inevitably, like a visit from the tax inspector. That morning, I spent half an hour installing a small home surveillance camera on the top shelf in the kitchen cupboard. We’d bought it a while ago to keep an eye on Boethius while we were away, but now it would serve a much greater purpose. The lens had a perfect view of the kitchen table, the hallway, and the fridge.
By seven in the evening, I’d finished a massive reorganization of the kitchen. All the good sausage, fine cheese, farm-fresh meat, red fish, and the jar of caviar we were saving for a special occasion were carefully packed into a thermal bag and moved to the glassed-in balcony off the bedroom. I locked the balcony door as well.
All that was left in the fridge was the bare essentials: a pot of plain pasta, a dozen eggs, a carton of kefir, a questionable piece of boiled sausage from the kiosk by the metro, and half a head of wilted cabbage. I figured if a family is like a communal pot, then this pot should be healthy and diet-friendly.
Right at eight o’clock sharp, someone rang the doorbell. They kept ringing for ages, pressing the button insistently without letting go.
I opened the door. There stood Zinaida—a large woman with a perm and an inspector’s gaze. Next to her was Lenocha, a twenty-year-old girl with lash extensions so long and thick it looked like two fat caterpillars were napping on her eyelids.
They were only carrying huge empty shopping bags, obviously ready for a day of big-city purchases. No treats for us, not even the smallest token for their hosts.
“Well, are you going to welcome your guests?” Zinaida declared loudly, barging into the hallway and brushing me aside with her shoulder. “Oh, the traffic in this city! We’re exhausted! Where can we wash our hands around here?”
She kicked off her shoes right in the middle of the hallway. Lenocha quietly did the same.
“Hello, Aunt Zina. Hi, Lena,” Pavel said as he came into the hall, polite but distant. “Come in. The bathroom is to your right.”
“Pasha! Look at you, fattened up on your wife’s cooking!” Zinaida laughed, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “We’re starving. Irka called, said you’d set us a decent table. We have a busy day of shopping ahead tomorrow, you know!”
Boethius, who’d come out to investigate the noise, sniffed Zinaida’s shoes, grimaced and flicked his hind paw as if shaking off invisible dirt, then strutted off to the bedroom in protest.
“What a scary cat you have,” Lenocha wrinkled her nose as she looked around. “I hope he doesn’t shed? I might get an allergy to fur. You should shut him up somewhere. Besides, Edik doesn’t like cats at all, we’ll have to redo everything after he visits.”
I mentally applauded her nerve. She hadn’t even washed her hands yet and was already planning renovations in my apartment to suit her Edik’s taste.
“This cat is a full-fledged member of the family,” I smiled sweetly. “And as Irina Viktorovna used to say, family members have to be patient with each other. Come through to the kitchen.”
We seated our guests. I put plates of reheated pasta in front of them and sliced that cheapest sausage. Zinaida stared at the table like I’d offered her raw dough. The relatives looked like locusts on a wheat field that just found out the field had been paved with asphalt.
“Is… is this all?” my aunt said with disappointment, poking at a piece of pasta with her fork. “Irka said you were living the high life here.”
“Times are tough, Aunt Zina,” Pavel sighed dramatically, playing along. “Everything goes to the home, everything for the family. You understand, expenses keep going up.”
“Yeah, right,” Zinaida mumbled, chewing the sausage without appetite. “Well, no big deal. The important thing is, tomorrow we’ll choose a dress for Lenocha. Irka said you’re giving us such a gift! You pay half, she’ll add the rest. Lenocha found one at a salon in the center, with Italian lace. It costs two hundred thousand. So, a hundred thousand from you.”
Two hundred thousand. So not only did Irina Viktorovna promise our wallet, she already approved the exact budget and divided up the shares.
“How generous of Irina Viktorovna,” I said softly, glancing at Pavel. My husband sat there perfectly calm. “She’s an amazing woman. Really takes care of her relatives.”
“She’s a real gem!” Zinaida confirmed, demolishing her bread. “All right, where are we sleeping? We’re tired. Got to wake up early—Irka said we need to be ready by ten. Supposedly, a car will pick us up right at the building entrance. Lena, did you text Edik that you checked out the room? Is the size okay? The couch just has to go, it’s really old.”
“I texted him, Mom,” Lena muttered, eyes glued to her phone. “He wants to know if he can knock down the wall between the office and the hallway. Says he needs more space for his creative process.”
I nearly choked on the sparkling water I was drinking. Knock down a wall in my apartment, just so barely-known Edik can have some space.
“Load-bearing walls stay up in this family, Lenochka,” Pavel said in a tone of wise authority. “You all get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day for you.”
I made up the folding couch in the office for them. Zinaida complained for ages that the pillows were too flat and the blanket too thin, but eventually they settled down.
Pavel and I locked ourselves in our bedroom.
“Two hundred thousand for a dress, they don’t like our couch, and now they want to tear down a wall!” my husband whispered furiously. “They really did come here fully expecting us to hand over the room for their home renovation projects!”
“I know, Pasha. I know. Which is why we’re going to sleep. Tomorrow, we have a lovely country getaway waiting for us. Our bags are already in the trunk.”
Saturday morning was sunny. We got up at eight. Quietly, so as not to creak the floorboards, we drank a glass of juice each. Boethius, as if he understood what was happening, didn’t make a sound, just rubbed against our legs. I filled his food bowl to the brim, poured fresh water, and left his litter box in the hallway. The cat was now in charge.
Our guests in the office were snoring loudly.
At eight forty-five we left the apartment. Our front door had an unusual lock: from the inside it could be opened with a turn latch, but from the outside you needed a key. I turned the key twice in the lock, making sure it was securely closed on the outside. Zinaida didn’t have any keys, so they could leave, but coming back without us or my mother-in-law would be impossible.
We took the elevator down, got into the car, and drove off from the yard. I’d already asked Pavel to put his phone on silent. I left mine on but muted the notifications.
By half past ten, we had already arrived at the boarding house in the pine forest. We checked in at the reception, then walked into a spacious room with a view of the woods.
“It’s time,” Pavel said, rubbing his hands together.
I pulled out my tablet, opened the app, and brought up the image from the kitchen camera. The picture was clear, though the sound had a slight delay.
Chaos was unfolding on the screen. Zinaida, in a flowery robe, was wandering around the kitchen, checking the empty cabinets. Lenochka was at the table, propping her cheek on her hand and whining grumpily.
“Mom, I’m starving! Where is everyone? It’s almost eleven! Aunt Ira promised they’d take us! We’re going to be late for the salon!”
“How am I supposed to know where the owners are?” Zinaida grumbled as she opened the fridge. “There’s only cabbage in here! Are they kidding me?”
Right then, the key turned in the front door. The screen lit up with Irina Viktorovna. She entered confidently, totally put together: hair perfectly styled, wearing a fancy blouse, and carrying a big, heavy bag. She’s had a set of keys to our place for ages, just in case of emergencies.
“Here I am!” my mother-in-law announced cheerfully as she walked into the kitchen. “Well, ladies, are you ready? Where are Pasha and Anya? Their car isn’t in the driveway.”
Zinaida turned to her slowly, gripping a chunk of cheap sausage in her hands.
“Ira,” my cousin started ominously, “where have you brought us? You promised a laid table, a car, and money! We’ve been left here alone, no one is feeding us, and your relatives aren’t even home!”
My mother-in-law stopped in her tracks. Suddenly, her confidence faltered. She pulled out her phone and frantically started pressing buttons.
My own phone buzzed in my bag. My mother-in-law’s name popped up on the screen. I put it on speaker, placed it on the table next to my tablet, and answered.
“Yes?” I replied, my voice sounding relaxed and calm.
“Anna!!!” came a shriek from the speaker, so loud it felt like it could shatter glass. “Where are you?! What is going on?! I’m standing in the middle of your kitchen! Zinaida’s outraged, Lenočka is crying! Where’s the car?! Where are you?!”
On the tablet screen, you could see Irina Viktorovna waving one hand, trying to calm down Zinaida, who was getting closer and closer to her.
In the background, my aunt’s deep voice rang out: “Ira, you promised! Where’s the hundred thousand? What taxi? We’re not getting in that junk heap in Italian lace!”
“Good morning, Irina Viktorovna,” I sang sweetly. “Pasha and I are out of town. We decided to spend the weekend in nature.”
There was a brief silence on the line. On my tablet, Irina Viktorovna froze, clearly trying to process what was happening.
“What… vacation?” she repeated. “What about the shopping? The dress? The money?! I told you, we were supposed to go shopping together on Saturday!”
“Oh, Irina Viktorovna, I took your words to heart,” I replied slowly and clearly. “You were absolutely right. Family comes first. And we should help each other without hesitation. You promised Zinaida and Lenočka an expensive shopping trip. You invited them to the apartment which, as you say, belongs to the whole family. You took on the role of gracious hostess and generous giver. How could Pasha and I get in the way of your moment to shine?”
“What are you talking about?!” my mother-in-law protested, completely losing her composure. On the video, Zinaida started listening to the conversation with suspicion.
“I don’t have that kind of money! I only have my pension and fifteen thousand saved for a trip! Zinaida wants a dinner out and a dress worth two hundred thousand!”
Zinaida wants a dinner out and a dress for two hundred thousand!
“But family should help family, no matter the expense,” I sighed sympathetically, quoting her own words from yesterday. “Today you help them, tomorrow they help you. I’m sure you’ll manage. For an Italian lace dress for your niece, no sacrifice is too great. After all, it’s a shared pot.”
On the tablet, you could see Irina Viktorovna’s face drop. She suddenly realized that her own rule had just turned against her.
“You sly one…” she breathed. “Pasha! Put Pasha on! My son couldn’t have done this to me!”
Pavel leaned toward the phone and said loudly, emphasizing each word:
“Mom, I can hear everything. Anya is just doing what we agreed on together. You planned our weekends, spent our money, and rearranged our house without asking us. Now you’ll have to sort things out on your own.”
“Pasha! Zinaida won’t leave without her dress! She’ll ruin my entire life! You can’t abandon us! You only have cabbage in your fridge!”
“Then make soup,” I suggested. “Family unity is best strengthened by cooking cabbage together.”
I paused briefly and added:
“And by the way, Irina Viktorovna, since you’re all gathered there—please tell Lenochka and her Edik that they won’t be living in my study after the wedding. Not in a month, not in a year. I know about your plan. My apartment isn’t made of rubber, and Edik will have to find a job instead of sponsors in the city. Especially since we never gave permission for him to knock down any load-bearing walls.”
On the video, Irina Viktorovna slowly sank onto a stool. Zinaida froze when she heard my words.
“What job?” Zinaida shouted in the background. “Ira! You said you arranged the apartment! You said Pashka agreed! Did you lie to us?!”
I ended the call.
The hotel room fell silent. Pavel and I exchanged glances and looked at the tablet screen.
A real drama was unfolding there. Zinaida, having realized there would be neither free housing nor a hundred thousand for the dress, was closing in on Irina Viktorovna.
“If I hear one more empty excuse from you, I’m packing my bags and leaving right now!” Zinaida’s voice thundered from the tablet’s speakers. “We bought tickets! Lenochka’s set on lace! Get your card with the ‘healing money’ out! We’re going to the market to get a dress—any dress—if you’re so disgraced! And you are paying for the rides!”
My mother-in-law tried to defend herself, waving her arms, but Zinaida wouldn’t budge. Lenochka was sobbing loudly, wiping away tears. Boethius was perched on a kitchen cabinet, watching the chaos below with curiosity, occasionally yawning.
Half an hour later, the cameras captured all three of them leaving the apartment. Irina Viktorovna trailed last, stooped over, dragging her heavy bag as if it were filled with bricks.
“Do you think we were too harsh with her?” Pavel asked as he turned off the tablet. There was no remorse in his voice, only a sort of scientific curiosity.
“You know,” I said as I walked to the window, “for some reason, all our shared property always belongs to me, but Irina Viktorovna’s personal expenses, especially linked to her ego, suddenly become our joint responsibility. We just gave her a taste of her own worldview. Let her enjoy it.”
The weekend was amazing. We went for walks in the woods, enjoyed spa treatments, and dined at a fantastic place. I switched my phone off completely. A world without Zinaida, Lenochka, and Italian lace was absolutely wonderful and harmonious.
We returned home on Sunday evening.
There was a deafening silence in the apartment. Boethius greeted us in the hallway, well-fed, content, and looking every bit like the head of security who had just guarded his territory.
The kitchen was spotless. In the trash can, the lonely package of that same cheap sausage sat. On the table were the apartment keys, left by my mother-in-law before she left. Underneath them was a scrap of paper, torn from my notebook.
In Irina Viktorovna’s handwriting, radiating extreme indignation, it read: “You are not a family. You only think about yourselves. Zinaida won’t talk to me. Don’t ask me for help again!”
Pavel picked up the note, read it, and smirked.
“Do you think she’ll actually keep her promise not to come?”
“For a couple of months, definitely,” I said, taking off my jacket and heading to wash my hands. “At least until she needs a free ride or some help again. But next time, she’ll think three times before making promises on our behalf.”
That evening, as we enjoyed some real sandwiches for dinner, I checked social media. On Lena’s page was a fresh post: a train photo against a gloomy landscape outside the window. The caption said: “The capital is a city of disappointments. My relatives turned out to be stingy. The wedding is at risk, I had to buy something cheap at the market, and I have to do everything myself!”
I smiled and closed the tab.
Of course, we turned out to be stingy. Traditions of generosity and family forgiveness are always especially precious to those who never have to pay for them.
A week went by. Life went on as usual until Friday evening, when Pavel’s phone rang. His mother’s name popped up on the screen. He sighed and answered.
“Pasha, hello,” Irina Viktorovna’s voice was noticeably cold and formal. “I’m calling on business.”
“I’m listening, Mom.”
“Because of your stunt, I had to spend all my savings!” she declared. “Zinaida made me buy Lena a dress for thirty thousand, pay for their café, and their return tickets! I was planning to use that money for a spa trip! Now, thanks to you, I have neither money nor a vacation!”
I think you should reimburse me for these expenses. You broke the agreement!
I was sitting next to Pavel and heard everything perfectly. He looked at me questioningly, and I gestured for him to hand me the phone.
“Good evening, Irina Viktorovna,” I said cheerfully.
My mother-in-law sounded wary on the other end of the line.
“Anna. I’m speaking to my son.”
“But you’re asking for money from our shared budget,” I replied. “Irina Viktorovna, you always say: in a family, there’s no such thing as yours or mine. Today you helped out, tomorrow… someone will help you. Lena and Edik, maybe, when they find their own gigs in the capital. After all, you’re family—relatives should support each other. Why are you separating money into yours and others’? Don’t be petty.”
There was a long silence on the line. I could hear my mother-in-law breathing heavily, searching for arguments, but her own rule completely blocked any objection.
“You… you’re just unbearable!” she finally said and hung up.
I set my phone down on the table. Boethius jumped onto the chair next to me, planted his heavy paw on the tabletop, and let out a demanding meow. He couldn’t care less about Italian lace, Edik’s ambitions, or family ties. He just wanted his rightful piece of cheese.
I cut a generous slice and placed it in front of him.
“On Saturday, you’ll come shopping with me,” I said thoughtfully to the cat, repeating that familiar phrase. “We’ll buy you a huge new bed. All with money we’ve earned ourselves.”
Boethius narrowed his eyes approvingly and dug into the cheese. Unlike certain relatives, he knew that a free feast always comes at someone else’s expense. But in our house, that kind of celebration was over—along with the habit of letting others spend our money and our free time.