“When you leave, give Anya your house keys, all right?” her mother-in-law said with a smile.
“What for?”
After hearing the answer from her husband’s relative, Vika realized that things had gone far too far.
Vika had always dreamed of having a large, close-knit family. When she met Pavel’s parents, she believed she had finally found the chance to make that dream come true. Her future husband came from a family with three children. Pasha was the middle child, with both an older and a younger sister.
“It’s wonderful that you want lots of children, but will you be able to manage?” Antonina Yuryevna asked after her daughter-in-law gave birth to her first child and began thinking about having another.
“I will. Taking care of the people you love is true happiness,” Vika replied confidently.
 
“Pasha is lucky to have such a wife, and I’m lucky to have such a daughter-in-law,” her mother-in-law said with a smile.
After three years of marriage, Victoria and Pavel already had two daughters and were planning to have a third child.
“We’ll try for a son once we buy our own place,” Pasha often said.
A year later, their dream came true. They became the owners of a spacious three-bedroom apartment.
Most of the down payment had been provided by Vika’s parents. They lived in a village far from the city, where they raised poultry and tended a large vegetable garden. Vika was their only child, so they supported her in every possible way, sometimes with money and sometimes with food.
After her daughters were born, Victoria never even considered returning to work. She devoted herself so completely to caring for them that she barely had any time or energy left for herself.
Every morning began with the girls. They woke at sunrise and immediately demanded her attention. Vika spent her days cooking, picking up scattered toys, doing laundry, taking the children outside, and then cooking and cleaning all over again.
She never complained to Pavel because she loved her family.
Pasha’s younger sister, Anya, had recently graduated from university and found a job at a company whose office was close to the couple’s home. One day, she called Vika.
“Vikusya, would you mind if I stopped by for lunch? I only have an hour-long break, and it takes too long to get home.”
“Of course not. Come over. The girls and I haven’t eaten yet, so you can join us,” Vika replied happily.
 
Until then, she and her sister-in-law had rarely seen each other because they lived on opposite sides of the city and usually met only at family celebrations.
Over lunch, Victoria told Anya stories about her nieces, while Anya shared the latest intrigues from her workplace.
The following day, the same thing happened. Pasha’s sister called again and announced that she would soon be coming over for lunch.
“All right, come over. I’ll prepare something.”
Vika put aside everything she had been doing and went into the kitchen. She fried some eggs or made sandwiches from whatever she could find in the refrigerator.
“Oh, this is delicious! You should have become a chef. You’re such an amazing cook,” Anya praised her. Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, she added, “Listen, Vikusya, could I sometimes come here for lunch during the week? Maybe between noon and one? I don’t like bringing food from home, and eating at a café or cafeteria is too expensive.”
“Of course you can,” Vika agreed without hesitation.
From then on, Anya began visiting her sister-in-law every day. She arrived at roughly the same time, took off her coat, washed her hands, sat down at the table, and asked eagerly:
“What delicious food have you made today?”
“Meatball soup.”
 
“And what’s the main course?”
“Meat patties with potatoes.”
“Will there be dessert?”
“There’s some sponge cake roll left. I baked it yesterday.”
“Wonderful! I absolutely love homemade food,” Anya exclaimed cheerfully.
She ate with a healthy appetite, thanked Vika sincerely, and returned to work. The following day, everything happened again.
At first, Victoria even enjoyed her sister-in-law’s visits. Caring for a relative brought her happiness because, after all, they were family. Preparing one additional plate of food did not seem particularly difficult.
But Vika had overlooked one important detail: she was already caring for two small children. In addition to preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner for her daughters, she now had to plan a special meal for Anya every day.
“What should I cook for my sister-in-law today?” became an increasingly frequent thought.
After a month, Vika’s initial enthusiasm had completely disappeared. Her daughters fell ill one after the other. During those difficult days, Vika barely slept. She was constantly getting up to check on the children, and by morning she felt utterly exhausted.
Anya, however, did not seem concerned.
“You know, you should probably have lunch somewhere else today,” Vika said after calling her. “I’m so tired. The girls had fevers all night, and I’d like to sleep while they’re resting.”
“Don’t worry, Vikusya. I won’t stay long. If you don’t have the energy to cook anything complicated, just boil me an egg and put the kettle on,” Anya replied.
“Could you please buy some onions on your way here? I use them to make a traditional cold remedy. We’ve run out, and my husband won’t be home for quite a while,” Vika asked for the first time since the daily visits had begun.
“All right,” Anya agreed.
Vika desperately wanted to lie down and close her eyes, but she knew Anya would arrive in an hour and wake her anyway.
So she took out a frying pan and started cooking. No one had explicitly forced her to do it. She had always agreed willingly and had failed to notice the moment when a voluntary favor silently turned into a sacred obligation.
“Where are the onions?” Vika asked when Anya arrived.
“Oh! I forgot. I’m sorry,” Anya replied, widening her eyes as she sat down at the table.
Vika never admitted to anyone that her sister-in-law’s daily visits had become a burden. She did not complain to her husband, nor did she hint that Anya might occasionally bring some pastries for tea. She certainly never asked her to contribute money toward groceries.
Victoria did not keep track of her expenses or calculate how much time and effort she spent. Asking to be compensated seemed rude and improper to her.
Then Antonina Yuryevna organized a family celebration for her birthday. The guests ate, raised their glasses, delivered toasts, and presented the birthday woman with gifts.
Anya appeared about halfway through the evening. She warmly congratulated her mother and then exclaimed loudly:
“Where are my favorite nephews? I have something for them too!”
The children immediately ran over to their aunt. Anya took several toys out of a bag and gave them to the children of Pavel’s older sister. Vika’s daughters, however, received nothing.
 
When Victoria saw the hurt and tears in her girls’ eyes, she could no longer remain silent.
“What about your other nieces? Don’t they deserve gifts too?”
Anya merely shrugged with indifference.
“They have a father. Pasha can spoil them himself.”
To Victoria’s surprise, her mother-in-law immediately sided with her daughter.
“That’s fair, Vikusya. Don’t be offended. Your daughters are growing up in a complete family, while Masha’s children have a very different situation. Pasha should take care of his own children.”
At that moment, Vika felt deeply hurt on her daughters’ behalf. Were they somehow to blame because Pavel’s older sister had gotten divorced and her former husband did not want to participate in his children’s lives? How could anyone divide nieces and nephews into categories and give them presents according to such a strange principle?
By the following morning, Victoria’s resentment had softened slightly. She decided not to start an argument with her sister-in-law. It was Anya’s money, after all, and she was entitled to spend it however she wished. Besides, Vika had never fed her because she expected presents in return.
And so Victoria continued welcoming Anya for lunch, day after day and week after week. Then one day, she finally admitted to herself that she had had enough.
It was not the cooking itself that exhausted her. It was the growing realization that her kindness was being taken for granted.
Vika could not bring herself to say “no” directly. She had not been raised that way. Instead, she devised another method of discouraging Anya from coming over for lunch every day.
During a visit to her mother-in-law’s home, Vika calmly announced that she and the children were going to spend an entire month with her parents in the village.
“What about Pasha?” Antonina Yuryevna asked in surprise.
“What about him? He’s an adult and knows how to cook. Besides, he has lunch at work because the company provides meals. He was actually the one who suggested that the girls and I spend some time in the village.”
Anya, who had overheard everything, suddenly interrupted them.
“But what about…”
“What about what?” Vika asked, cutting her off.
 
“Well, where am I supposed to have lunch while you’re away?”
“I don’t know,” Victoria replied with an indifferent shrug.
A few minutes later, while they were still sitting around the same table, her mother-in-law turned to her.
“Listen, Vika, if you and the girls are going to the village, leave your set of keys with Anya.”
“Why?” Victoria asked, confused.
“Isn’t it obvious? She can come over at lunchtime and cook for herself.”
“Where?”
“At your home. Pasha is staying here, isn’t he? He’ll still be buying groceries.”
“So Anya is supposed to enter our home while no one is there and take over the kitchen?” Vika asked in disbelief.
“Yes. What’s wrong with that?” Anya said. “Don’t worry, I won’t break or damage anything. Of course, my cooking won’t be as delicious as yours, but it’s still better than wasting money at the cafeteria.”
She delivered the words with such a carefree smile that she seemed to believe she had paid Vika a compliment.
Instead, her comment only made Victoria angrier.
“No, I’m not giving you a key,” she declared firmly.
“Why not?” Anya asked, genuinely surprised.
“Because I won’t be home. If I’m not there, you have no business being in my kitchen.”
“This isn’t only your home. It belongs to my son too, and his sister has every right to be there!” Antonina Yuryevna interrupted.
For a moment, Vika was lost for words. She glanced at her husband, hoping he would support her, but he merely shrugged.
 
“Oh, come on. Just let her use the kitchen. Why should you care? Besides, then there’ll be dinner waiting for me while you’re away.”
Victoria could hardly believe her ears. Apparently, Pasha’s entire family—including Pasha himself—believed she was responsible not only for feeding Anya but also for allowing her to treat their home as her own.
That was something Vika could not accept.
“No. I will not allow outsiders to take over my kitchen.”
“We’re family! I’m not an outsider,” Anya replied calmly.
“You certainly didn’t think of my daughters as family when you were handing out presents.”
“That was my money, and I decide who I spend it on!” Anya snapped.
“Of course it was your money. You’ve never even brought a single chocolate bar to have with tea! When I asked you to buy some onions, you were too stingy to spend even a few coins on that. That’s it—don’t ask me for anything ever again. My parents send us meat, vegetables, milk, and everything else, so I will decide who I use those ingredients to cook for!”
Antonina Yuryevna was about to respond sharply, but Vika spoke before she had the chance.
 
“Starting today, Anya, find somewhere else to eat. Do not come to my home during your lunch break anymore.”
With those words, Victoria stood, called her daughters, and left the apartment.
She and Pasha argued for a long time after they returned home. Her husband stubbornly defended his sister. Finally, Vika could bear it no longer and gave him an ultimatum.
“Fine. If you want your sister to treat our home as if it belongs to her, then perhaps we should divide the apartment.”
“What? You want a divorce over a bowl of soup?”
Vika almost laughed at how completely Pasha had failed to understand what she had endured.
 
“This isn’t about a bowl of soup. It’s about my right to live in my own home according to my own routine—without constantly rushing, feeling obligated, or worrying about somebody else’s lunch. If Anya doesn’t want to spend money at a café or cannot prepare food to take to work, that is her problem.”
The threat of divorce finally made Pasha back down. From that day forward, Anya never came to their apartment again.
They never returned to the subject, and Vika kept her keys.
Her home once again became a place people entered only when they were invited. And perhaps that was all she had wanted from the beginning.