— Liza, what is this?” Tamara Sergeevna held a box of crystal glasses in her hands.
Liza’s hand trembled, breaking the rhythm of dusting the shelf. It was impossible to guess what Tamara Sergeevna would dislike today.
“— It’s a wedding gift from my godmother,” Liza tried unsuccessfully to smile. “Crystal, Czech.”
Tamara Sergeevna pursed her lips.
“— To keep such tasteless things in my son’s living room… I thought you were an intelligent girl.”
Liza bit her lip. She wanted to argue that now it was their shared living room with Kirill, not just his, but she stayed silent. After all, the wedding was in a month, and peace in the family needed to be preserved until then.
“— Of course, Tamara Sergeevna. I will put them away.”
The woman put down the box and glanced around the spacious living room where Liza had already arranged her books on the shelf. The irritation on Tamara Sergeevna’s face grew even more noticeable.
“— And these feminist books of yours should be put away too. The boy shouldn’t see them.”
The “boy” was thirty-two years old. Liza clenched her teeth and continued wiping the dust.
“— Kirill asked me to put them in a visible place. He says he’s proud of my collection,” she lied, hoping that mentioning her son would soften Tamara Sergeevna.
“— My son understands literature. He doesn’t read nonsense,” the woman cut her off and headed to the kitchen. “And what is that smell? Are you frying onions? Will the apartment of my son always smell of onions now?”
Liza sighed and looked at the clock. Kirill promised to return by seven. Two more hours to endure.
She had moved into Kirill’s apartment a week ago. Before that, she paid for a rented place, but they decided it was better to live together before the wedding. It was a sensible step — Liza had a good job in a marketing agency, decent savings, and even her own car bought on credit and almost paid off. But she didn’t have her own home. Kirill offered she live with him — a spacious two-room apartment not far from the center. The perfect place to start their life together.
“— Just don’t argue too much with my mom, please. She has a special character,” he asked, and Liza agreed. She sincerely loved Kirill and was ready to tolerate small quirks.
It turned out the small quirks weren’t so small.
“— Liza! Come here immediately! Did you move the spices? Why are you touching things in the kitchen?”
“— I only arranged my kitchen utensils,” Liza wiped her hands on her apron. “Put them in a logical order.”
“— The logical order was set when Kirill’s apartment was bought!” Tamara Sergeevna rolled her eyes. “Do you have to redo everything for yourself?”
Dark circles under Tamara Sergeevna’s eyes seemed deeper than usual. Her hands, with prominent veins, nervously fiddled with the spice jars, arranging them according to her system.
“— You know, I’m just trying to get settled,” Liza answered quietly.
“— You’ll settle after the wedding. Meanwhile, you have bird’s rights here,” Tamara Sergeevna raised a finger like a teacher. “And remember: Kirill likes the salt to be on the right side of the stove!”
Liza bit her tongue in offense. “Bird’s rights.” Soon she would be paying more for this apartment than Kirill. She involuntarily remembered a friend’s words: “Until you’re married, don’t invest in his place.” But could she really not help the one she loved?
The wedding was modest but beautiful. Liza shone in an elegant cream dress. It seemed to her that there had never been a happier day in her life.
“— Are you sure you chose this dress? You look… bigger in it,” Tamara Sergeevna whispered before the ceremony.
Liza just smiled. Nothing could spoil this day for her. Not even her mother-in-law’s constant criticism.
“— Liza is so beautiful today!” Kirill’s friend Natasha said admiringly as she approached them.
“— Of course, dear,” Tamara Sergeevna muttered. “At her age, it’s time to get married, before she completely withers.”
Liza was only thirty-two. She twitched from offense but pulled herself together.
Kirill came over and hugged her waist.
“— Mom, don’t start,” he asked softly. “Today is our day.”
“— I only care about your future,” Tamara Sergeevna pursed her lips. “I hope you won’t change your mind.”
A year of married life passed. Liza learned to abstract herself from the constant mother-in-law’s nitpicking. Kirill tried to smooth the sharp edges but didn’t always succeed. Especially when it came to finances.
“— Why do you pay for his apartment?” Liza’s mother asked during their rare meetings.
“— It’s our family, mom. We help each other,” Liza answered. She didn’t want to admit that she paid most of the mortgage. Kirill worked at a startup — unstable salary, but huge prospects. Liza believed in her husband and his success.
“— Mom has a leak in the bathroom,” Kirill once said coming home from work. “Mom called, her walls are all wet.”
“— How long has she had this problem?” Liza was surprised.
“— Three days. She decided to handle it herself at first,” he sighed. “Tomorrow we’ll call a plumber.”
“— Why didn’t she call earlier?”
“— She didn’t want to bother us,” Kirill rubbed his forehead. “She wants to move in with us until it’s fixed. Literally for a month. The whole bathroom will be renovated.”
Liza froze. A month with Tamara Sergeevna under one roof?
“— Can’t the repair be done faster?” she asked cautiously.
“— You suggest leaving my mother in such terrible conditions?” Kirill frowned. “I already said she can move in. Is that a problem?”
“— Of course not,” Liza lied, smiling. “No problem.”
Tamara Sergeevna moved in the next day. With three suitcases and a scattering of bags as if not for a month, but for the rest of her life.
“— Lizochnka, be kind and free up the top shelf in the wardrobe,” the mother-in-law said imperiously, settling in the guest room. “And the shelf in the bathroom, please. And in the kitchen, rearrange your jars, they take up too much space.”
Liza silently fulfilled the requests. Kirill was at work then, and it was impossible to explain to him how hard it was to deal with his mother.
The first week passed in constant tension. Liza felt like a stranger in her own home. Tamara Sergeevna took over the kitchen, occupied the bathroom for an hour in the morning and evening, and spread her things on all available surfaces.
“— You don’t peel potatoes right,” the mother-in-law noted watching Liza cook dinner. “So much waste! Kirill doesn’t like it when food is wasted.”
“— I’ve been cooking like this for a year, and Kirill never complained,” Liza tried to speak calmly.
“— He’s too polite to tell you the truth,” sighed Tamara Sergeevna, taking the knife from her daughter-in-law’s hands. “Let me show you how it should be done.”
The situation worsened day by day. Tamara Sergeevna criticized everything: how Liza cleaned, dressed, talked to her husband.
“— Why do you come home from work so late?” she asked one evening. “Kirill sits hungry.”
“— I have an important project,” Liza tiredly took off her shoes. “I warned Kirill I’d be late.”
“— She warned you!” the mother-in-law snorted. “And your husband’s been eating frozen food for two days. At my age, I managed to work, keep the house spotless, and feed my husband homemade food.”
“— Sorry, but Kirill is quite capable of heating his food himself,” Liza couldn’t hold back. “He’s an adult, not a child.”
Tamara Sergeevna shook her head.
“— Looks like no one taught you to care for your husband. No wonder, with such a mother…”
Liza flared up.
“— What does my mother have to do with this? Don’t you dare touch her!”
“— Oh, how delicate we are,” the mother-in-law smirked. “Don’t like to hear the truth. Your mother raised you alone, so you don’t know how to deal with men. And Kirill is spoiled, he needs care.”
Kirill appeared in the doorway, carrying grocery bags.
“— What’s going on? Why are you shouting?”
“— Your wife refuses to care for you,” Tamara Sergeevna instantly switched. “I just reminded her of her duties.”
“— Mom, please,” Kirill put the bags on the table. “Liza works a lot. I’m not complaining.”
“— Of course you’re not complaining,” the mother-in-law threw her hands up. “You’re my golden boy. You endure everything. And she takes advantage.”
Liza looked at her husband, expecting him to put his mother in place, but Kirill only smiled helplessly.
“— Let’s just have dinner together? Liza, are you hungry?”
After that incident, Tamara Sergeevna seemed to go on the offensive. She rearranged things, hiding them from her daughter-in-law, ruined her favorite clothes in the wash, told at dinner about Kirill’s wonderful ex-girlfriends.
“— Veronica called yesterday, asking about your health,” she casually told her son in Liza’s presence. “Such a caring girl. And always cooked deliciously.”
The month promised by the mother-in-law was coming to an end, but she did not mention going home. One morning, Liza heard Tamara Sergeevna on the phone.
“— Yes, Klavdia, the repair is dragging on. But it’s so convenient here! Why should I return to my apartment when my son and daughter-in-law manage my bills perfectly well?” She laughed. “And I need to keep an eye on them. The daughter-in-law turned out to be willful.”
Liza froze behind the door. So that’s what it was. Tamara Sergeevna simply didn’t want to go back home.
Liza thought about how to talk about this with Kirill. When they were alone in the bedroom, Liza tried to start the conversation.
“— Kirill, has your mom said anything about going back?”
“— Not yet. Apparently, the repair is taking longer,” her husband shrugged. “Does it bother you?”
“— A little. It’s been a month, and she hasn’t even mentioned leaving.”
Kirill frowned.
“— What do you want me to do, kick my own mother out?”
Liza sighed.
“— No, of course not! It just seems to me she… doesn’t like me very much.”
“— Liza, it just seems to you,” her husband hugged her shoulders. “Mom’s old-fashioned. She means well.”
The next morning, Tamara Sergeevna crossed all boundaries. Liza accidentally broke a cup given by her mother-in-law, and the woman threw a real tantrum.
“— Ungrateful!” she shouted. “You appreciate nothing! As careless as your mother!”
Liza raised her voice.
“— Stop insulting my mom. I won’t tolerate this anymore.”
Tamara Sergeevna smirked.
“— And what will you do? This is my son’s apartment. You’re nobody here.”
“— Kirill and I are married. I’m his wife, and this is our home.”
“— Who told you such nonsense?” Tamara Sergeevna squinted. “You’re a burden here. Who needs you! Kirill could have found a better girl who wouldn’t scatter things and break dishes.”
Patience snapped. Liza turned sharply and left the kitchen, returning a minute later with a folder of documents.
“— You think I’m a burden for your son? And who pays the mortgage for his apartment?” Liza threw the papers on the table in front of her mother-in-law.
Tamara Sergeevna first looked at the documents haughtily. Then she took the top sheet, then the second. Her face slowly changed. The smile slid off, leaving confusion and distrust.
“— What nonsense is this?” she muttered. “Where did these payments come from? This must be a mistake…”
“— No mistake. Kirill works at a startup, earns pennies. I’ve been paying most of the mortgage for the past year. And the utilities too,” Liza crossed her arms. “So it’s not for you to say who’s a burden here.”
The front door slammed. Kirill returned from work earlier than usual.
“— What happened?” he asked, seeing the tense faces of his wife and mother.
Liza told everything. About the daily humiliations, the conversation with a friend she accidentally overheard, and the fake repair.
“— I’m setting a condition,” she said firmly. “Either your mother stops behaving like this, or I leave your life. You decide, Kirill.”
Kirill was silent for a painfully long few minutes. Then he looked at his mother.
“— Mom, is this really true?”
Tamara Sergeevna lowered her eyes.
“— I wanted the best. To look after you…”
“— Pack your things,” Kirill’s voice was quiet but firm. “I’ll call a taxi.”
“— Kirill, you can’t…”
“— I can. You insulted my wife, lied to me. I’ll take you home, and we’ll talk tomorrow. Right now I need to be with Liza.”
An hour later, Tamara Sergeevna was gone from the apartment. Liza sat on the couch, still unable to believe the nightmare was over.
“— Forgive me,” Kirill sat next to her. “I should have noticed what was happening much earlier.”
“— I’m guilty too,” Liza sighed. “I should have told you everything sooner.”
Six months passed. Tamara Sergeevna changed. After a serious talk with her son, she reconsidered her attitude toward her daughter-in-law. Now she called once a week, not every day, and was almost polite. At family dinners, she behaved restrained and politely.
“— Liza, won’t you help me with the salad?” she asked one evening while they cooked in the kitchen.
Liza nodded, expecting the usual criticism. Unexpectedly, Tamara Sergeevna said:
“— I like how you cut the vegetables.”
Liza looked up in surprise. Her mother-in-law looked at her without the usual arrogance.
“— I wanted to apologize,” the woman quietly added. “I was wrong. You make Kirill happy, and that’s the main thing.”
Liza smiled. Maybe their relationship would never be perfect, but progress was clear. And that was enough.
“— Thank you, Tamara Sergeevna. Would you like to try my new sauce recipe? Kirill loves it.”
Her mother-in-law nodded, and for the first time, her smile seemed sincere.