“My Children Will Be Registered at This Address!” she screamed, unaware that I had transferred ownership of the house an hour earlier
“I’ve made up my mind. We’re moving in with you!”
Klavdia froze on the threshold of her own entrance hall, not even having had time to remove her coat. Directly in front of her, blocking the way to the staircase, stood a mountain of enormous plaid bags.
Beside them stood Regina, hands planted possessively on her hips.
Her former daughter-in-law.
Her bright scarf had slipped to one side, her eyes burned with determination, and a triumphant half-smile played on her lips.
“Hello, Regina,” the owner of the house said deliberately, shifting the heavy grocery bag from one hand to the other. “Where did you get the key to the gate?”
“Pyotr gave me a duplicate three years ago. That’s beside the point!”
Regina tugged irritably at her scarf as though it were preventing her from breathing.
“You’re not listening to me, Klavdia Nikolayevna. I’m telling you that the boys and I are going to live here for a while. The air is fresh, and there’s plenty of nature.”
She paused and surveyed the spacious entrance hall.
“And most importantly, your street falls within the catchment area of the new grammar school.”
“So?”
“So I need permanent residence registration for the school!”
Klavdia slowly unbuttoned her coat. She hung it on the hook beside the door, trying to calm the unpleasant tingling in her fingers.
Her son Pyotr had divorced this energetic woman three years earlier. He had left her their two-bedroom apartment in the city and gone north for work. Klavdia had lived a quiet, orderly life since then, tending her garden and waiting for her grandsons to visit on weekends.
And now someone had barged into her home with a pile of luggage.
“Regina, my dear, what registration are you talking about?”
“The usual kind!”
Her former daughter-in-law spoke defiantly, taking a step toward her former mother-in-law.
“I’m the mother of your grandchildren. I have a right to decent living conditions. You’re living here alone, enjoying three whole rooms, while we’re cramped in the city.”
She kicked the nearest plaid bag with the toe of her boot.
“I’ve already made inquiries. The procedure is quick. You write a letter of consent, and then we go to the registration office.”
“Serfdom was abolished a long time ago.”
Klavdia walked around the mountain of belongings and headed toward the kitchen.
“I’m not registering anyone in my house. Especially not for permanent residence.”
“I’m not asking you!”
The visitor followed her, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled hallway floor. She had clearly expected the older woman to become flustered as usual, start fussing around, offer her tea and search for a compromise.
“You’re obligated to do it! Pyotr pays next to nothing in child support, so you can at least compensate us with some living space.”
“Pyotr pays a substantial amount.”
Klavdia cut her off as she switched on the light above the dining table.
“I’ve seen the receipts. You could feed half the city with that much money.”
“It only looks like a lot on paper!”
Regina flung her patent-leather handbag directly onto the clean tablecloth.
“Have you seen how much children’s winter clothing costs? What about extracurricular activities? English tutors?”
She leaned over the table, bracing herself against its edge with both hands.
“You don’t take any interest in your grandchildren’s lives! You live here for your own pleasure, planting your little flowers, while I’m raising two boys all by myself!”
“You’re not raising them alone. They have a father.”
“A father they see once a year—if he keeps his promise!”
“He’s ruining his health working up north precisely so he can pay for all your demands.”
Klavdia walked over to the sink and rinsed her hands under running water, giving herself a moment to think.
The situation was absurd.
Regina had arrived in the evening with a mountain of luggage, opened someone else’s door with an old key and begun making demands.
Regina was not the kind of person who would simply come for a visit. There was always a calculated plan hiding behind her noisy, aggressive exterior.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.”
The visitor sat down on a stool and crossed one leg over the other.
“I’ve left the boys with my mother for now. I’ll bring them tomorrow. We’ll take the upstairs room with the windows overlooking the garden. It’s bright, so it’ll be convenient for them to do their homework.”
She looked around the kitchen possessively, as though she were already planning how to rearrange the furniture.
“You can stay in the downstairs bedroom. We don’t need much. We’ll all live together peacefully. You can help with the cooking because I have a job.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said roll that lip of yours back in before it starts slapping against your knees.”
The owner of the house dried her hands with a waffle-weave towel. She turned toward her former daughter-in-law, feeling a dull wave of irritation rising inside her.
“You’re not getting the room overlooking the garden. You’re not getting registered here, and you’re not living here.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Take your bags and go back to your apartment.”
“This is their home too!”
Regina’s voice rose to a shriek.
“I’ll go to child protective services! You’re throwing your own grandchildren out onto the street! What kind of heartless woman are you?”
“Out onto the street from a centrally located city apartment?”
Klavdia raised an eyebrow sarcastically.
“Don’t make me laugh. There are two excellent schools in your neighborhood. They’re both a five-minute walk away.”
She pulled out a chair and sat opposite her visitor.
“And from here, they would have to take two buses with a transfer to reach that new grammar school of yours. In winter. In the dark.”
Regina hesitated. Her eyes darted around, and her fingers gripped the strap of her patent-leather handbag nervously.
She clearly had not expected her mother-in-law to check the route and public transport schedule.
“It specializes in mathematics! The boys need opportunities to develop! You simply don’t understand modern realities!”
“The boys need peace and a normal routine.”
Klavdia looked directly at her without averting her eyes.
“And you, Regina, need an empty apartment.”
The spacious kitchen suddenly became deeply uncomfortable.
The visitor stopped swinging her leg and straightened tensely.
“What does the apartment have to do with anything? We’re talking about the children!”
“It has everything to do with it.”
The owner of the house clasped her hands together. It was time to put an end to this circus.
“My neighbor Nina Vasilyevna went into the city a few days ago. She had an appointment at the regional clinic for her back.”
Klavdia paused.
“And she saw you outside your building. You were standing beside some slick-looking man in a suit, signing papers on the hood of a car and jingling a set of keys.”
“That was—we were arranging insurance!”
“Insurance for renting out the apartment?”
Klavdia delivered the words so firmly that Regina flinched.
“You posted an advertisement online. The photographs showed the same recognizable wallpaper. ‘Two-bedroom apartment available for long-term rent.’ And the price wasn’t exactly small. No pets allowed.”
Red blotches spread across Regina’s face.
It was the same old trick—hiding behind the children’s interests whenever a woman wanted to solve her financial problems at someone else’s expense.
“So what?”
Regina blurted out, abandoning the last remnants of politeness.
“Yes, I’m renting it out! What else am I supposed to live on? I bought myself a new car on credit! I have to pay a huge amount every month!”
“Pyotr left you a car three years ago. It was an excellent foreign model.”
“That old wreck? It was already five years old! I was embarrassed to be seen in it.”
Regina threw up her hands, outraged that no one understood her obvious needs.
“I sold it a long time ago. I bought a proper crossover straight from the dealership so I could drive the boys around comfortably. But the monthly payment is huge. So I decided…”
“You decided to move in and live off your former mother-in-law.”
Klavdia shook her head, astonished by her shamelessness.
“You’d rent out the apartment and use the rental income to pay the bank for your car loan, while spending Pyotr’s child-support payments on whatever you wanted.”
She gestured around the house.
“And meanwhile, Grandma would feed the boys here in the fresh country air. You wouldn’t even have to pay the utility bills. A perfect plan. Absolutely brilliant.”
“You’re obligated to help us!”
Regina went on the offensive again, sensing the ground slipping away beneath her feet.
“I gave birth to your grandchildren! I still carry your family name!”
“Thank you for my grandsons. I love them and spoil them. You may bring them here on weekends.”
Klavdia spoke emphatically, carefully enunciating every word.
“I’ll bake them pies and take them to the lake. But you will not live here. Two mistresses cannot share one kitchen, especially when one of them has appetites like yours.”
“You’re simply greedy! You’ve always been greedy!”
Regina leapt up from the stool. Her handbag fell to the floor with a crash, but she did not even notice.
“You’re obsessed with protecting your precious square meters! You have an entire mansion standing empty while we’re struggling to make ends meet!”
“With a brand-new, shiny crossover bought on credit?”
The owner of the house showed no sympathy.
“No wonder you’re struggling. You should have lived within your means instead of trying to impress your friends.”
“I’ll call Petya tomorrow!”
Regina began openly shouting.
“He’ll straighten you out! He’ll assert his rights! This house is his inheritance too!”
“Go ahead and call him.”
Klavdia rose heavily from the table. Her back ached after working in the garden, but she had no time to think about that now.
She walked over to the kitchen counter, where her mobile phone lay.
“Would you like me to call him myself right now?”
She picked up the phone.
“I’ll tell him about the brand-new car from the dealership. I’ll tell him about the tenants living in his former home. And I’ll explain how you’re spending the child-support money he earns while freezing in the north on your own loans.”
Regina fell silent, the words lodging in her throat.
Calling her former husband had clearly not been part of her perfect plan.
Pyotr was not a confrontational man, but if he discovered exactly where the money intended for his sons was going, he might start asking questions.
He might even demand receipts and bank statements.
He could not stand being treated like a fool.
“Don’t call him.”
The visitor forced the words through clenched teeth, glaring from beneath lowered brows.
“He works hard there. He can’t afford to get upset. He has high blood pressure.”
“How touching of you to be so concerned.”
Klavdia put the phone back on the counter.
Then she stepped close to her former daughter-in-law. Her voice was not loud, but it carried such force that the air seemed to ring.
“You didn’t build this house. You haven’t invested a single penny in it. Pyotr left with one suitcase and gave you everything the two of you had acquired together.”
She pointed toward the entrance hall.
“Live your life. Manage however you like. Pay your loans. But don’t trample through my territory in your filthy boots.”
“You’ll regret this!”
“Pick up your bags and get out.”
Klavdia walked into the hallway first.
“And leave the keys on the cabinet. The duplicate Pyotr gave you. He has no use for it here anymore.”
“Absolutely not! These are the keys belonging to the father of my children! I have a right to unrestricted access to this property!”
“Put the keys on the cabinet.”
Klavdia folded her arms across her chest, then remembered how much she hated that pose and simply slipped her hands into the pockets of her cardigan.
“Otherwise, I’m calling Pyotr right now. He can resolve the issue of your access and your tenants himself.”
They stared at each other for several long seconds.
Regina breathed heavily, her face covered in red patches of helpless rage.
She was accustomed to getting what she wanted through pressure, shouting and manipulating people with the children. Her former husband usually gave in simply to avoid dealing with her hysterics.
But that trick had not worked on her mother-in-law.
There was nothing she could use against her.
The visitor abruptly unzipped the side pocket of her bag, pulled out a key ring with a pendant and threw it onto the shoe cabinet with a metallic clatter.
“You can choke on your precious house!”
She grabbed the nearest bag, grunting under its weight, and dragged it toward the front door.
“I’ll never set foot in this place again! And you’ll never see your grandchildren! They’ll forget your name!”
“See you this weekend,” Klavdia corrected her calmly, holding the door so the visitor would not damage the frame with her luggage.
“I expect the boys on Saturday for pancakes and jam. If you don’t bring them yourself, I’ll come and collect them. And if you refuse to let them come, I’ll call their father. I think we understand each other.”
The door slammed behind Regina.
Klavdia did not look out of the window. She merely listened as her former daughter-in-law angrily stuffed the bags into the trunk, slammed the car door and started the roaring engine of an expensive vehicle she could not afford.
The owner of the house picked up the discarded keys. The metal felt cold against her fingers.
Tomorrow, she would have to call a locksmith and replace the cylinders in both the gate lock and the front door.
Just in case.
People did not change. Once someone had decided to live at another person’s expense, they would not abandon such a brilliant idea easily.
They would search for loopholes.
Klavdia returned to the kitchen and pressed the button on the electric kettle. Evening coolness and the scent of damp, decaying leaves drifted through the partially opened window.
There were no strangers’ bags and no shouting about residence registration.
There was only the steady hum of the water coming to a boil.