“Stesha, why aren’t you having any of the duck?” Ekaterina asked, her voice echoing across the table.
“Oh right, homemade food isn’t really your thing!”
She flirtatiously adjusted her peach blouse with puffed sleeves. The guests looked over at the eldest daughter-in-law with interest.
“Thanks, Katya, I had a snack before I left home,” Stefania replied, her tone calm.
“Well, of course!” chimed in mother-in-law Albina Naumovna right away.
“Our Katya has been up since five in the morning cooking. She made everything by hand! This is not just reheating store-bought meals.”
The mother-in-law then proudly adjusted her large amber necklace. Her lips, painted with bright carrot lipstick, curled into a lecturing smile.
The relatives at the table hummed approvingly. Stefania’s husband, forty-year-old Zakhar, bent lower over his pomegranate salad. He started nervously fiddling with the edge of his paper napkin.
Stefania had been married to Zakhar for eight years. She worked as the chief accountant at a major transportation company. In the evenings, she also did accounting for a furniture store.
Stefania would come home late. She had no intention of spending her nights at the stove, much less making dumplings in advance.
Every couple of weeks, a cleaning lady would come to their two-room apartment. As for dinner, Stefania and Zakhar always whipped up something quick and simple.
But Zakhar’s younger brother Trofim and his wife Ekaterina loved to keep up appearances. Today, they were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary with great fanfare.
In the past year, Trofim had changed jobs three times. Meanwhile, Katya only worked part-time as an administrator at a local hair salon. That didn’t stop them from pretending to be the picture-perfect family.
“By the way, a woman should always keep the home fires burning!” declared Albina Naumovna, her tone full of advice.
“Just look at how perfect Katya keeps everything! The floors shine, not a speck of dust on the windows, and the table is set with three full courses!”
“Oh, come on, Mom,” Ekaterina rattled off, fluffing her curly bangs.
“I love being the lady of the house! Taking care of things is a joy for me! I won’t let any strangers in here with mops. It’s just embarrassing when a healthy woman can’t even dust for herself!”
Ekaterina cast a sly glance at Stefania, who was sitting there in a loose beige shirt. Her short, light-brown bob was neatly tucked behind her ears.
“By the way, Stesha, why are you looking so down?” her mother-in-law interjected.
“You’re sitting there like you’re at a director’s meeting. You could at least ask the housewife for her dough recipe!”
“I will, Albina Naumovna,” Stefania replied.
“A bit later.”
She glanced over toward the entryway. Beneath the lowest shoe shelf, poking out from behind some coats, she could see the yellow corner of a large thermal bag.
Stefania had noticed it as soon as she took her shoes off at the door. In her hurry to set out the treats, Katya had just shoved the courier bag behind the coat rack.
“And you, Zakhar, you look like you’re fading away,” the mother-in-law switched her attention to her eldest son.
“Your shirt’s not even starched, and you look run down. Does your wife even feed you every other day?”
“Mom, stop it,” Zakhar mumbled, eyes still down.
“We eat just fine.”
“‘We eat just fine!’” Albina Naumovna snorted.
“Living on dry sandwiches! A real man needs hot borscht, not those box deliveries of yours!”
“Stesha’s working on the quarterly balance,” Zakhar tried to defend her.
“She doesn’t have time for fancy dishes right now.”
“She always has reports!” piped up the older aunt from the far end of the table.
“Bet she’s making a fortune! But can’t even flip a cutlet for her own husband!”
“What fortune?” Trofim jumped in nonchalantly, stroking his goatee.
“These days, the ones who know how to hustle have everything! You should see the new furniture Katya and I got for our anniversary!”
Her brother-in-law gestured broadly around the spacious room. Against the wall stood a bright chest of drawers and a massive display cabinet. In the center, a large dining table took pride of place.
“Solid oak, not some pressed wood!” Trofim boasted, rolling up the sleeves of his beige shirt.
“We even ordered a built-in oven for the kitchen! I don’t cut corners for my beloved wife. That’s settled—if we’re celebrating, let’s go all out!”
“Oh, Trofim is a real provider!” Albina Naumovna pressed her hands to her cheeks.
“He brings everything home, puts his family first! That’s what happens when you’ve got a good woman at your side. Makes you want to work hard for her!”
She looked triumphantly at her oldest daughter-in-law.
“But some people just throw money away on other people’s cleaning ladies!” the mother-in-law added pointedly.
“No coziness in the house, no proper furniture!”
“Mom, we’re not bragging,” Ekaterina said in a sing-song voice.
“Trofim and I just know how to budget. Every penny counts—and all with our own hands! Thank you for the gift, by the way. We’ll add it in!”
She nodded to the middle shelf of the new display cabinet. Right in the most prominent spot lay a plump beige envelope with a ribbon. Earlier in the evening, her mother-in-law and the guests solemnly placed their gift money there.
Stefania put her hands on the edge of the table and looked directly at her brother-in-law.
“Trofim, since your budget’s so great, let’s settle our matter,” she said.
— You promised you’d pay me back by lunch today.
Trofim instantly choked on his compote and started coughing. His face turned red with blotches.
— Stesh, come on, drop it, — whispered Zakhar, giving his wife’s sleeve a tug.
— Don’t start in front of our guests. The kids are celebrating! We’ll settle this at home.
— We already settled it at home yesterday, Zakhar, — Stefania answered.
— That was when you handed our card to your brother without asking.
Zakhar squirmed and hunched his head into his shoulders. Albina Naumovna immediately became alert.
— What’s all this talk about? — their mother-in-law asked sternly, looking from one son to the other.
— What card are they talking about, Trofim? What does she want from you?
— Oh, it’s nothing, Mom! — her brother-in-law blurted out, avoiding her gaze.
— Just some work stuff with Stesha. It’s all between family, just our own calculations.
— Funny idea of nothing, — Stefania chimed in.
— I spent half a year saving up from my evening side jobs for the balcony renovation. And last night you and Zakhar emptied my stash.
Zakhar’s face went long. He muttered apologetically:
— Stesha, I only let him borrow it until Tuesday! Trofim’s payment from his new job was delayed right before the weekend. But we’d already invited people, didn’t want to cancel last minute!
— What payment, Zakhar? — Stefania asked.
— Your brother quit the auto repair shop two weeks ago. Yesterday, his old coworker called me, even offered me truck parts.
Trofim hunkered down and stared at the tablecloth. Conversation at the table immediately stopped.
— So what if I quit! — his brother-in-law snapped.
— I’m freelancing now, taking orders myself! My income is none of your business!
Ekaterina realized her culinary triumph was at risk. She stood up firmly, put her hands on her hips, and laughed out loud.
— Oh come on, stop fussing over pennies at the holiday table! — yelled the younger sister-in-law.
— Stefania’s just jealous! Our apartment has brand new furniture, it smells like fresh pies, and hers always looks bare!
— Katya, watch your mouth, — Zakhar grumbled.
But his brother’s wife was on a roll. She couldn’t hold back now.
— What did I even say?! — Ekaterina shrieked, addressing the whole family.
— She came in with a sour face, didn’t even try my duck, and keeps picking at her husband!
She pointed accusingly at Stefania.
— Easy for you to say, you don’t even cook or clean at home! — Ekaterina yelled across the room.
— Must be nice to have soft hands! Some other lady mops your floors while you just shuffle papers at the office and criticize your relatives!
Albina Naumovna nodded approvingly.
— Katya’s right, — their mother-in-law chimed in, siding with the younger daughter-in-law.
— The family depends on the woman! And you, Stefania, are only good at nagging about money. You should learn from Katya how to set a table and respect your husband!
Stefania sat still for a second. Inside, a dull — no, angry — tiredness from the whole day was swelling up. She rubbed her temples with her fingers and looked at her husband. Zakhar nervously stared down at his shoes.
Then Stefania stood up.
— So, I’m a pampered princess, am I, Katya? — she asked again.
— And you’re the hardworking one, who does it all by herself?
“That’s right!” Ekaterina shot back defiantly, lifting her chin.
“I’ve spent three days working nonstop for these guests! I started baking the dough early this morning, roasted a duck with apples! And my husband spent half a year working every weekend to buy this oak furniture!”
Stefania didn’t respond. She walked out to the hallway and returned a moment later, holding a bulging yellow thermal bag with a huge logo from the ‘Sytij Kupec’ bakery-catering shop.
Ekaterina’s smile instantly vanished. She backed away toward the cabinet.
Stefania unclipped a long receipt from the bag’s handle. Then she pulled a folded delivery form from the pocket of her beige shirt. She placed both papers right in the center of the table.
“Let’s be honest then,” Stefania said, looking straight at her mother-in-law.
“Here are the receipts, Albina Naumovna. Take a good look and see who really paid for this anniversary spread—and for all the furniture in this apartment.”
“What kind of trick is this?!” Trofim jumped to his feet.
“Stesha, why are you making a scene in front of Mom?!”
“Let’s start with your precious oak furniture set,” Stefania didn’t let herself be interrupted.
“Two days ago, this table, the chest of drawers, and the cabinet were delivered from the furniture showroom where I handle the accounts.”
Trofim didn’t work half a year for it at all. He begged me to get the set on installment, under my own salary.
Albina Naumovna clutched her amber necklace and leaned over the document.
“What do you mean, under your salary?” the mother-in-law whispered, eyes wide.
“Trofimushka, you bragged that you got a big bonus, didn’t you?”
“Mom, don’t listen to her, she’s twisting everything!” Ekaterina started waving her hands.
“We just did it through her discount! We’ll pay everything back tonight!”
“With what, Katya?” Stefania asked.
“Trofim swore he’d bring the cash by noon today. But in two days, you haven’t paid the store a single ruble. The receipt clearly says: goods are in temporary storage until full payment.”
Relatives at the table started exchanging glances. An elderly aunt at the end of the table pushed her plate away and craned her neck to see the documents.
“And what about the second receipt?” she asked warily.
“Where did that yellow bag come from?”
“That’s thanks to Mama’s favorite homemaker,” Stefania replied with a crooked smile.
“The one who supposedly stood by the stove from five in the morning and never lets other women in the house.”
She unrolled the long cashier’s receipt from the bakery and laid it right under Albina Naumovna’s nose.
“This morning at nine o’clock, a courier from ‘Syty Kupets’ called me,” Stefania explained.
“Katya didn’t even bother to change the profile on the app. She ordered the whole banquet using my old personal account!”
Ekaterina turned bright red, from her neck to her forehead.
“I was just in a hurry!” she cried, retreating into the corner.
“My shift at the salon ended late last night! When would I have managed to cook for everyone?”
“So you quietly paid for the delivery with Zakhar’s card,” Stefania shot back.
“With the money we’d set aside for the balcony renovation! Duck with apples, salads by weight, meat platters, cabbage pies, and a three-tiered cake. Everything arrived this morning, ready to serve.”
“Oh my goodness!” gasped the aunt from the far end of the table.
— And to think, she swore she kneaded the pie dough herself last night! Even promised to share the recipe with us!
— There’s your three homemade courses by her own hands, — her husband grumbled, setting the pie back down on the napkin.
— You kids sure know how to pull the wool over your mom’s and guests’ eyes!
Albina Naumovna sat there, mouth agape. Her carrot-colored lips were trembling slightly.
— Katyusha… — managed to say her mother-in-law.
— How could you? This morning you told me on the phone that your wrists were sore from rolling out dough?
— Oh, Mom, everyone does it this way now! — snapped Ekaterina, instantly losing her fake sweetness.
— So what, we ordered ready-made food! The table still looks lavish! And now she shows up and ruins the whole celebration over a bit of money!
— Over my bit of money? — Stefania echoed.
— I don’t cook three dishes every night at home or scrub the floors myself because I work two jobs. And, as it turns out, just to feed and provide for your family!
Trofim angrily slapped his palm on the heavy oak tabletop.
— That’s enough, Stefania, stop making a scene! — her brother-in-law barked… well, rudely snapped.
— We’ll give you back your money for the food! And we’ll settle up for the furniture in a couple of months. You won’t be broke, we’re all family here!
— A couple of months doesn’t work for me, — Stefania replied, holding out her open hand to her husband.
— Zakhar, put the card for our savings account on the table. Right now.
— Stesha, it’s in Trofim’s jacket, — Zakhar mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
— Trofim, card on the table, — Stefania repeated.
— Otherwise I’ll just block the account through the bank, right this instant.
Trofim narrowed his eyes angrily but reached into his pants pocket and tossed the plastic card onto the tablecloth. Stefania picked it up.
Then she stepped over to the new sideboard, reached out, and took a plump beige envelope with a ribbon off the middle shelf.
— What do you think you’re doing?! — Ekaterina screeched, rushing at her.
— Put that back! That’s our jubilee gift money!
— Was gift money, now it’s repayment of debt, — Stefania said, slipping the envelope into her purse.
— This should be just enough to pay for your morning order at the deli and return our emergency stash to the balcony.
— Mom, say something! — cried the younger daughter-in-law, grabbing her mother-in-law’s elbow.
— She’s robbing us in broad daylight! Zakhar, are you a man or not?! Why are you just sitting there?!
Zakhar didn’t even lift his head. Albina Naumovna tried to regain her commanding presence, but her voice had lost all confidence:
— Stesha, you can’t do this either… The guests gave those gifts with all their hearts for the young couple. Can’t we just settle this like family and wait until payday?
— If you want family stories, Albina Naumovna, let them tell you those, — Stefania answered.
— As for the furniture, that’s even easier. By eight o’clock tonight I expect full payment from Trofim, receipt included.
— Where am I supposed to get that kind of money by tonight?! — Trofim protested.
— The banks are closed!
— Then tomorrow at exactly nine in the morning, our showroom driver Arkady will be here with two movers, — Stefania said, heading for the exit.
— Your order will be cancelled as unpaid. The table, dresser, and sideboard are going straight back to the showroom. So I’d suggest you clear your dishes off the furniture tonight.
She paused at the doorstep and turned to her husband.
“Zahar, are you coming with me? Or are you going to stay and finish off the homemade duck from the thermal bag?”
Zahar jumped up from his chair so quickly he nearly bumped into the edge of the table. Without looking at his mother or brother, he hurried after his wife into the hallway.
“Enjoy your meal, relatives,” Stefania said as a farewell.
“Go ahead and have fun. You just paid for the banquet!”
A month and a half passed. Of course, the family’s attitude hadn’t changed at all. At every opportunity, Ekaterina complained to her mother-in-law about the “stingy eldest daughter-in-law who would choke over a penny.”
And Albina Naumovna, whenever they met, tightly pursed her painted lips and sighed about how people used to be kinder and more family-oriented.
But when it came to furniture, everything was resolved surprisingly quickly. After such embarrassment in front of his aunts, Trofim didn’t dare stay in an empty living room.
By seven that same evening, he had run around to all his friends, borrowed the needed amount, and paid every last ruble directly to the showroom’s cashier.
Zahar no longer had access to the family savings. During the May holidays, the workers finally enclosed and finished the balcony for him and Stefania.
And when, at the end of May, the whole family gathered for Albina Naumovna’s birthday and Stefania put a box of cream puffs from that very same ‘Sytij Kupec’ bakery on the table, Ekaterina sat quietly at the edge of the sofa all evening and didn’t say a word about what a proper hostess should be.