My husband’s relatives were already choosing an expensive gift at our expense. But at the anniversary celebration, their calculations didn’t add up.
Our kitchen renovation budget lay on the table, spotless and full of hope, when Sergey’s phone suddenly erupted with the commanding bass voice of my mother-in-law. Raisa Petrovna had an astonishing talent for distributing other people’s money with the grace and ruthlessness of an experienced casino dealer.
“Sergey, Ira, am I the speaker?” my mother-in-law asked in a tone that allowed no objections. “Here’s the situation. Vladik and I have discussed Karina’s anniversary. You know she’s a woman of status. She owns a curtain salon, and it would be embarrassing for her to sit in front of clients using cheap equipment. So our family is giving her a laptop. A premium one. For one hundred and fifty thousand rubles.”
I carefully put down the pencil I had been using to calculate the cost of emerald-green Italian tiles for our kitchen backsplash. My husband and I had been saving for the renovation for three years. We had put aside our bonuses and cut back on vacations.
“What a wonderful idea, Raisa Petrovna,” I replied calmly, pulling my cup of tea closer. “What does it have to do with us?”
There was a brief silence on the line, after which my husband’s older brother, Vladislav, entered the arena.
A wealthy co-owner of a construction company, he sincerely believed that the whole world—and especially his younger brother—owed him an unpayable debt. Eight years earlier, Vlad had given Sergey the phone number of a factory manager. Ever since then, Sergey had repaired the wiring in his brother’s offices in exchange for nothing more than a spoken “thank you.”
“Ira, why are you being so petty?” Vladislav drawled condescendingly. “I’m paying for a luxurious banquet at the Golden Empire restaurant. You’re responsible for a worthy gift. Brother, you need to think bigger! Money is energy. When you buy a premium item for a successful person, you connect yourself to the wealth egregore. It’s quantum economics—an investment in the family’s status!”
“Quantum economics, Vlad,” I countered sweetly, “is when a store clerk and a refrigerator repairman give one hundred and fifty thousand rubles to the owner of a luxury salon. In physics, that’s called a black hole, not an egregore. Giving away our savings for your expensive gadget would simply be sponsoring someone else’s vanity.”
“You’ve always had the mentality of a pauper!” Vladislav roared, instantly losing all his philosophical polish. “You have no gratitude toward the family!”
Vlad began puffing into the phone so loudly and laboriously that he sounded less like a successful businessman and more like an old Soviet hammer drill whose bit had suddenly jammed in a piece of rusty reinforcement steel.
Then Alice, their twenty-five-year-old daughter, squeaked in the background.
“Uncle Sergey, Mom really does need it for work! And then I’ll get her old Mac. I can take it to university!”
“We understand,” I said peacefully, and ended the call.
Sergey sat on a stool, guiltily picking at the edge of the tablecloth. In his eyes, common sense was fighting against the belief hammered into him since childhood that elders must always be obeyed.
“Ira, maybe we could take the money from our savings?” my husband muttered uncertainly. “It is an anniversary, after all. She’s turning fifty. Vlad will be offended. He’ll say we’re embarrassing the family if we show up with just an envelope. It’ll be awkward in front of everyone.”
I stood up, walked to the cabinet, and pulled a colorful cardboard box from the bottom shelf. I placed it on the table so sharply that the cups rattled.
“Sergey. February of this year. Your fiftieth birthday. We set a table at home for twenty people. Remember what your wealthy relatives, the ones who care so much about family status, brought you?”
Sergey lowered his eyes.
Inside the box lay three thin waffle-weave kitchen towels decorated with poisonous-yellow ducklings.
“Karina said something wonderful that day, remember?” I quoted the future birthday woman with pleasure. “‘Sergey, we’re practical people. Things break, money gets spent, but what really matters is attention and the warmth of a cozy home!’”
“Well, they had just bought a new car back then. They’d spent a lot…” my husband tried to defend them, though without much conviction.
“Sergey, those towels don’t even absorb water. They just smear it around the plate. Your wealthy relatives spent less on your anniversary than we normally spend on an ordinary grocery run. We are not buying them a laptop. We are going to give them pure, concentrated wealth energy.”
On Saturday, the Golden Empire restaurant glittered as though it had been designed by a magpie that had broken into a warehouse full of gold leaf. There was ornamental molding, crystal, and salads whose production cost was probably equal to the wing of a small aircraft.
Karina, squeezed into a burgundy dress that looked suspiciously like the heavy curtains sold in her own salon, accepted congratulations with the expression of a reigning monarch. Raisa Petrovna sat proudly at her right hand, surveying the guests with condescending approval.
Soon it was time to present the gifts.
Holding a microphone, Vladislav delivered a long toast about the importance of having strong support and dependable relatives. Then he gave Sergey and me a meaningful look.
“And now, the main surprise of the evening—the gift our birthday girl has been dreaming about—has been prepared by my younger brother and his wife!” Vlad announced to the room with a broad smile. “Sergey, Ira, this is your moment!”
Alice was so impatient that she half rose from her chair, already imagining herself transferring her files onto her mother’s old laptop.
I rose gracefully and picked up a beautifully wrapped, bulky box topped with an enormous silk bow, along with a thick envelope. The room fell silent. Karina theatrically pressed both hands to her chest.
“Dear Karina!” I began, my voice soft and sincere as it carried through the microphone across the entire hall. “At my Sergey’s anniversary, you taught us a priceless lesson. You said that soulless technology becomes outdated, while the warmth and comfort of home last forever. Your words completely changed our way of thinking! We realized how blind we had been in wanting to buy you some ordinary laptop.”
Karina’s smile began slowly sliding off her face like melting ice cream. Vlad frowned.
With a flourish, I pulled the ribbon. The box opened.
Inside, resting on a bed of shredded craft paper, was a luxurious, weighty set of six bamboo towels embroidered in gold with the birthday woman’s initials. One hundred percent eco-friendly cotton.
“We’re giving you comfort, Karina!” I continued enthusiastically. “And so that you can freely connect yourself to the wealth egregore Vlad described so wonderfully, we also prepared an envelope. It contains your starting capital—a five-thousand-ruble gift card for an electronics store. Don’t deny yourself anything, darling!”
In the silence that followed, we could hear a fork falling in the restaurant kitchen.
Alice made a sound resembling the whimper of a crushed mouse.
“What do you mean… towels?” Karina hissed, forgetting about the microphone. “Vlad! Where is the laptop? You said they were buying it!”
The first person to lose control was Nikolai Borisovich, an old family friend and the owner of a furniture workshop. He had been sitting opposite us, watching the entire performance attentively.
Nikolai Borisovich leaned back in his chair and burst into loud, heartfelt laughter.
“Well done, Ira! Absolutely brilliant! Checkmate, ladies and gentlemen capitalists! Vlad, what are you staring at? Take out your phone and transfer one hundred and fifty thousand rubles to your wife. It turns out your wealth egregore survives on other people’s money! You paid for the banquet but dumped the cost of the gift on your brother. Well, I suppose no one can forbid you from living extravagantly!”
Vladislav’s face turned a deep beetroot shade.
Raisa Petrovna clutched her heart, but when she noticed that no one was rushing to call an ambulance, she quickly lowered her hand.
“This… this is mockery!” Karina shrieked, pushing the magnificent bamboo towels away. “I already bragged about the laptop to everyone at the salon!”
“Mom, what about my laptop?” Alice whined, pulling on her mother’s sleeve.
“Both of you, be quiet!” Vlad roared as he pulled out his smartphone.
Under Nikolai Borisovich’s mocking gaze, he angrily stabbed at the screen, placing an urgent order through the electronics store’s app.
Sergey and I calmly finished our julienne. My husband looked at me with undisguised admiration, finally free of his younger-brother complex.
We did not stay for the cake.
Before leaving, Sergey transferred his brother the cost of our two seats at the banquet and sent him a brief message:
“So that you never again consider us indebted to you.”
Justice arrived quietly and permanently.
No one ever called us again demanding that we “live up to the family’s standards.”
A month later, we finished our renovation.
The emerald Italian tiles on our new kitchen backsplash looked magnificent, reflecting the light just as brightly as my small, satisfied smile.