“What if we ask your parents for help?” Gennady said thoughtfully, stretching out on the couch after dinner.
Irina carefully set her cup of tea on the table and sat down beside him. The news about Svetlana selling her dacha had been on her mind all day.
“Can you imagine what an opportunity this is?” her wife said dreamily. “Ten acres, and with a ready vegetable garden. A greenhouse, an apple orchard, a gazebo… And most importantly… a house. A real two-story house with all the conveniences. And only for three million, even though it’s really worth five!”
The woman closed her eyes and smiled, imagining how they would spend summer evenings there, drinking tea on the veranda, gathering fresh vegetables and fruits.
The one million rubles they had saved over the years now seemed such a small amount.
“Let’s call your parents right now,” the man suddenly sat up and reached for his phone. “Svetka won’t wait forever. She said there’s only a week to decide, then she’ll start looking for other buyers. We can’t risk it!”
Irina nervously bit her lip as the phone rang with long tones.
When her mother’s familiar voice came on the line, she got straight to the point:
“Mom, remember you once said that if we ever needed help with money… Well, here’s the thing… My colleague Sveta, you saw her at last year’s company party, is getting married. To a Canadian. And she’s selling her dacha. It’s so beautiful! The house, the land, the garden. Everything’s well kept, all done with love.”
“And how much does she want?” her mother asked practically.
“Three million. But it’s really worth about five! That’s what the realtors said. She just needs to sell urgently—she’s leaving in a month. We have a million saved, but…”
“But you’re short two million,” the woman finished for her. “Wait a minute.”
There was a muffled conversation on the line. Her mother was discussing something with her father. Irina held her breath. Those few minutes felt like an eternity.
“Sweetheart, your father and I talked it over. You’re right. It really is a great opportunity not to be missed. We’ll give you two million.”
The woman gasped in joy. She looked at her husband and gave a thumbs-up. Gennady broke into a pleased smile.
“Thank you, Mom! Thank you, Dad!” the daughter said, almost crying with happiness. “You have no idea what a gift this is! We will definitely invite you over, we’ll spend time together, gather the harvest…”
“Of course, dear,” the woman replied kindly. “Tomorrow your father and I will withdraw the money and bring it over. Meanwhile, you figure out the paperwork. Who will the dacha be registered to?”
Irina thoughtfully looked at her husband. They had once registered the apartment in his name. It would be fair to register the dacha in her name.
“How about in my name?” the wife suggested to Gennady. “The apartment is registered to you anyway.”
Her husband shrugged oddly but agreed. There was something flickering in his eyes…
Irina couldn’t understand what exactly, but an inner voice was persistently whispering: “Be careful…”
The next day the woman rushed first to Svetlana. Seeing her colleague’s shining eyes, she understood everything without words:
“You’re buying it?”
“Yes! Can you believe it? My parents agreed to help. They’ll bring the money today!” Irina could hardly contain her joy. “But I have one request. Can I come by after work again to look at the dacha? More seriously now, with a view to buying. And, of course, we’ll discuss the documents.”
That evening, the woman went to inspect the dacha again, but with different eyes. Every corner of the plot now seemed special—after all, it would soon become their own little paradise. Svetlana, noticing her friend’s enthusiastic gaze, smiled:
“I’m so glad the dacha is going to you. You know, I remember every tree here: when I planted it, how I cared for it. See that apple tree? I planted it three years ago, and this year it bore its first fruit. And these currant bushes? My grandmother planted those!”
Irina listened to her friend, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She was already imagining how she and Gena would spend weekends here, gathering the harvest and having family get-togethers on the veranda.
“We put up the greenhouse last year,” the owner continued, giving a tour of the plot. “We specially ordered a reinforced structure so it could withstand snow in winter. Tomatoes grow great, cucumbers, peppers. I keep jars of preserves in the cellar. There are special shelves there, the temperature is optimal.”
The women climbed to the second floor of the house. Here were two bedrooms and a spacious balcony overlooking the garden.
“Can you imagine how wonderful it will be here on summer evenings?” Svetlana said dreamily. “Sunset, a cup of tea, the scent of blooming garden. I spent so much time on this balcony! You’re very lucky. Believe me!”
That same evening Irina and her husband went to her parents’ house. Her father silently handed over an envelope with the money, and her mother hugged her tightly:
“Take good care of this place, darling. Such a gift from fate must be cherished. And don’t forget to invite us. We’ll come to help with the garden, gather the harvest together.”
“Of course, Mom! How could it be otherwise?” the daughter answered, touched. “None of this would have been possible without you.”
On the way back, Gennady was unusually silent. Only at home, when they sat down to discuss the details of the upcoming deal, did he finally speak:
“Listen, maybe we should register the dacha in my name after all? I’m the man; it’ll be easier for me to handle all the household matters. Besides, the million rubles are our joint money.”
Irina shook her head firmly:
“Gen, let’s be fair. The apartment is registered to you, so let the dacha be in my name. Especially since my parents helped. Two million is no joke!”
Her husband didn’t argue. A week later, the deal was closed. Svetlana handed over the keys with tears in her eyes and explained all the details of plant care.
When the couple first arrived at the dacha as owners, the woman couldn’t believe her happiness. She stood in the middle of the plot, inhaling the smell of summer earth and smiling. Gennady came up behind her and hugged her shoulders:
“Well, shall we start settling in?”
In early June, the couple took a vacation to fully devote themselves to the dacha. The former owner’s plantings pleased the eye: strong sprouts greened in the beds, first tomatoes were ripening in the greenhouse, and strawberries had already begun to redden.
“Can you imagine, all this is ours!” the wife said admiringly, inspecting the property. “Let’s start with the greenhouse tomorrow. The tomatoes need tying. Then we’ll make a flower bed in front of the house—I’ve already picked out some flowers. And I want to plant peonies along the path. It will be so beautiful!”
Gennady enthusiastically joined in the work.
He tied tomatoes, dug flower beds, constantly tinkered with something. In the evenings, the couple sat on the veranda, drank tea, and made plans for improving the plot.
The woman thought this idyll would last forever. But how wrong she was!
On the third day of their dacha vacation, when Irina was gathering the first strawberries for breakfast, her mother-in-law appeared on the plot. The relative came unannounced, with a huge suitcase and a bag of groceries.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” Gennady was surprised.
“What do you mean? I came to help you!” the woman cheerfully reported as she entered the house. “Everything’s just starting for you here, you can’t do without an experienced person. I worked on my dacha for twenty years. I know what’s what!”
The daughter-in-law tensed. Her mother-in-law had really grown cucumbers and tomatoes on the old dacha, but after her husband died, she had abandoned the plot and later sold it cheaply without even consulting her son.
“Mom, we’re managing,” the woman began cautiously. “Svetlana explained everything in detail and left instructions for plant care…”
“Svetlana is your city girl! What does she understand? I’ll teach you how to properly run a household. This isn’t a game, experience is needed here!”
By lunchtime it was clear the relative had come for more than a day or two. She took over the second bedroom, unpacked her things, and began to boss everyone around:
“Irochka, you’re picking strawberries wrong! You have to pick them with the stem or they won’t keep. And you need to water the beds: the soil is very dry. Genchik, son, bring some water for your mother! I’ll have some tea and show the daughter-in-law how to tie cucumbers.”
Irina gritted her teeth. She knew perfectly well how to care for plants. Svetlana explained everything in detail. But the mother-in-law seemed to deliberately criticize every action:
“Not like that! Not here! Not that way! Do they do it like this now? Back in my day…”
And after a couple of days, the woman became downright brazen. She was the first to pick ripe berries, carry them into the house, and share them with neighborhood children:
“This is from our garden! My son and I grew it! He’s such a handy boy, just like his father!”
The daughter-in-law swallowed her resentment silently. She didn’t want to spoil relations with her mother-in-law, but it was getting harder each day. Especially when the mother-in-law began rearranging things in the house, switching jars in the cellar, and giving orders for no reason.
And Gennady seemed not to notice the tension between the women. The man spent more and more time in the shed, tinkering with something, and consulted his wife less and less about dacha matters.
Now all decisions were made after long consultations with his mother, and Irina learned about them after the fact.
One evening, while the woman was once again enduring her mother-in-law’s lectures about poorly weeded beds, the phone rang. It was her mother:
“Daughter, your father and I want to come for the weekend. To see how you’ve settled in. Is that okay?”
“Of course, Mom! Come!” Irina was glad. “We already have the first harvest. The strawberries are so sweet! I’ll definitely gather some for you!”
When her husband heard the news about her parents’ visit, Gennady frowned strangely, and his mother demonstratively pursed her lips:
“What timing! They probably think that since they gave money, they can come here whenever they want! What kind of people!”
On Saturday morning, Irina’s parents arrived at the dacha.
Her mother enthusiastically inspected the plot:
“A paradise garden! And such strawberries! Daughter, you’re doing everything right!”
“It’s all thanks to my experience!” the mother-in-law interrupted. “I’m teaching Irochka how to properly care for the garden. Today we’ll make jam with my special recipe.”
“Can we take some berries home?” the woman asked quietly. “Dad loves fresh strawberries so much. We haven’t eaten any this year.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” the mother-in-law fussed. “We need to make a lot of jam. Right, Genochka?”
“Mom is right. The harvest this year is small; we barely have enough for jam. And I just adore it. Eat it by the spoonful!”
“What do you mean… small?” Irina was surprised. “We have three huge beds! And those are my parents. How can you begrudge them a bucket of strawberries? What is this even about?”
“We’re not begrudging anyone anything. We just don’t have enough ourselves!” Gennady raised his voice. “There’s nothing to discuss here!”
“Genchik, son, I’m trying for you,” the mother-in-law added fuel to the fire. “In winter you’ll thank me!”
“Wait,” Irina’s father interrupted. “You probably misunderstood. We’re talking about a couple of kilos of berries; is that really a problem?”
“The problem is,” Gennady exploded, “that you come and immediately start demanding rights! This is our garden. We decide what to do with the harvest!”
“Wait a minute. You want to say that we don’t have the right to take some berries from the plot where we invested two million rubles?”
“Exactly!” the mother-in-law triumphantly exclaimed. “You only think about money! Who works the land? Who toils from morning till night?”
“You think that since you gave money, you can boss us around?” Gennady protested. “And I, by the way, am investing in this dacha too! With effort and time!”
“Listen,” Irina’s mother turned pale with anger. “What are you implying? That we should ask permission to take a few berries from our daughter’s plot?”
“From my plot!” Gennady shouted. “I’m the owner here! I’m a man! And only I will decide who and how many berries to give! I’m telling you, there’s no extra strawberries! Sorry.”
“Enough!” Irina cut everyone off, unable to endure the rudeness of her husband and mother-in-law any longer. “You are not the owners here! Neither of you,” the daughter-in-law turned to her mother-in-law, “nor you, Gena. The dacha is registered in my mother’s name. All the documents are in her name. And the money was given by my parents!”
“What?” her husband whispered barely audibly. “In your mother’s name?”
“Exactly!” Irina answered firmly. “And if anyone here has the right to manage the harvest and everything else, it’s my mother! And she will take as many strawberries as she deems necessary! Period!”
Silence fell in the yard. The mother-in-law gasped for air like a fish out of water. Gennady looked at his wife as if seeing her for the first time.
“So all this time… All these talks about our dacha, about our future — it was a lie?” the man’s voice trembled with barely restrained rage.
“What lie, Gena?” the wife said wearily. “We really planned to live here together, work…”
“Planned? Then why am I only hearing now that the dacha is registered to your mother? Why did you hide it?”
“I didn’t hide it. I just thought it would be fair. Besides, what difference does it make who the dacha is registered to? My parents won’t take it to the grave. It’s still ours! What matters to you is managing it. So manage it!”
“Managing?” the mother-in-law exploded. “My son plowed here like a maniac! He spent every weekend digging, building!”
“On his own initiative!” the father-in-law carefully noted. “We didn’t ask for the plot to be rearranged. It’s absolutely unnecessary here.”
“So what am I to you? Just free labor? Comfortable for you! Rude people!” Gennady lost his temper.
“Son, I always told you they only think about money. They dragged you into this adventure!”
“No insults, please!” the father-in-law said firmly. “We helped the young family get a dacha. What’s wrong with that? And what difference does it make who it’s registered to? It’s a formal safeguard, nothing more. Our family invested 2.5 million rubles in the purchase, and yours—500 thousand! Let’s not forget that.”
“Not forget? Are you joking?” the man was already shouting. “You registered the house in your name without my knowledge, set conditions! And I’m supposed to adapt to you?”
“Nobody owes anyone anything,” Irina replied calmly. “But you have no right to boss anyone around here. Neither you nor your mother! Especially to begrudge a couple of kilos of strawberries!”
“Go to hell! Scammers!” her husband turned pale with anger. “I’m filing for divorce! I’ve had enough! God knows what else your family is capable of!”
“Good!” the mother-in-law supported Gennady. “No need to endure such humiliation! Thieves!”
“Fine,” Irina said suddenly firmly. “Let’s divorce. We’ll split the apartment evenly, as the law says. And the dacha will stay with my family!”
“We’ll see what’s left!” the husband threatened. “I’ll get a lawyer, and you’ll see what happens with the dacha!”
Gennady grabbed his mother’s hand:
“Let’s go, Mom! We have nothing to do here!”
They left, slamming the gate loudly. Irina sank onto the bench, exhausted. Her parents sat silently beside her, hugging their daughter on both sides.
A month later, it was all over.
The divorce went surprisingly quickly. They split the apartment as agreed, half and half. Irina paid her ex-husband his share and stayed there alone.
A new life began at the dacha.
The mother-in-law occasionally called mutual acquaintances, complaining about the “ungrateful daughter-in-law” and “cunning parents,” but no one was interested anymore. Gennady soon married his colleague and moved to another city.
And Irina finally felt happy.
Every weekend she came to the dacha, which was now truly hers.
Her parents helped with the plot, and gradually the dacha turned into exactly the place they all dreamed of: a cozy family corner where everyone had something to do and enjoy.