September had brought a chill to the evenings, and Irina had just finished making dinner when the doorbell rang. Alexei opened it, and his relatives swept into the apartment as a noisy crowd: his mother, Valentina Mikhailovna; his sister, Lena, with her two children—seven-year-old Masha and five-year-old Denis; and right behind them, his brother Viktor.
“Irochka, we’ve come to you!” proclaimed Valentina Mikhailovna, holding a large bag stuffed with packages. “I bought a cake and some fruit. We’re going to hold a family council!”
Irina nodded with a tight smile. Valentina Mikhailovna always appeared without warning and immediately took over as if this were her own home. Alexei helped his mother out of her coat and hung it in the closet.
“Kids, wash your hands and sit at the table,” Lena ordered, settling onto the sofa and pulling out her phone. Masha and Denis raced to the bathroom, chattering happily.
Viktor walked silently into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator at once, as if he were searching for something specific. Following his gaze, Irina realized he was hoping to find beer there.
“Viktor, there’s mineral water on the bottom shelf,” Irina offered.
“Whatever, I’ll manage,” he muttered, shutting the fridge.
Valentina Mikhailovna was already bustling around the table, unpacking the groceries. The cake was chocolate, the apples large and handsome. She arranged everything with such ceremony, as if preparing for a formal announcement.
“Ira, dear, where do you keep your nice plates? The ones with the gold rim?” the mother-in-law asked, peering into the sideboard.
“Top drawer,” Irina answered, watching as Valentina Mikhailovna took out her best dishes.
Alexei helped set the table, moving chairs and laying out napkins. The children returned from the bathroom and immediately began inspecting the cake, poking it with their fingers.
“Masha, Denis, hands off!” Lena snapped without looking up from her screen.
When everyone had taken their seats, Valentina Mikhailovna stood and tapped a spoon against a glass with solemn flair.
“Attention, my dears! I have important news!”
Alexei lifted his head from his plate; Lena put down her phone; even the children quieted. Irina grew wary—such theatrics from her mother-in-law usually foretold trouble.
“I’ve finally settled all the property matters,” Valentina Mikhailovna began, straightening proudly. “I’ve registered the apartment on Leninsky in Lena’s name. My daughter needs a place to live, the children are growing up. And I’ve signed the dacha in Podolsk over to Viktor—land belongs with a man; he should run a household.”
Lena squealed with delight and clapped. Viktor nodded, pleased. The children, not understanding a thing, kept picking at the cake.
“Mama, that’s wonderful!” Alexei exclaimed. “The right decision. And where are you planning to live?”
Valentina Mikhailovna smiled slyly and looked around at everyone.
“Here’s the interesting part! I’ll live here, with you. There’s plenty of space in Irina’s apartment—lots of rooms.”
Irina froze with a forkful of cake halfway to her mouth. The words struck like a bolt from the blue. She turned to her husband, expecting Alexei to object or at least look surprised. But he calmly went on chewing, as if nothing unusual had been said.
“Valentina Mikhailovna, did you discuss this with me?” Irina asked carefully, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Irochka, dear, what is there to discuss?” the mother-in-law waved it off. “You’re kind, you’re understanding. I’m an old woman; it’s frightening to live alone. Here I’ll see my grandchildren more often and I can help around the house.”
“But you had your own apartment,” Irina reminded her, feeling the blood rush to her face.
“I had one, and now I don’t. I gave it to the children. They need it more. And what about me? I’m quiet, I won’t take up much space. You have three rooms—give me one, and we’ll live wonderfully.”
Lena nodded vigorously in support of her mother.
“Ira, Mama’s right. It’s hard for her alone, and here she’ll have care and attention. And you’ll have a helper at home.”
Viktor chimed in with his two cents:
“You don’t throw elderly parents out on the street. That’s just wrong.”
Masha and Denis exchanged glances and asked in chorus:
“So Grandma’s going to live with us now? Cool!”
Irina set down her fork and looked closely at each of them. They were all sitting with satisfied faces, as if the matter had settled itself. Only Alexei avoided her eyes, studying the pattern on the tablecloth.
“Alexei,” Irina addressed her husband. “What do you think about this?”
He finally looked up and gave an uncertain shrug.
“Well… Mother’s right. It’s hard for her alone. And we do have enough space.”
“There, you see, dear!” Valentina Mikhailovna rejoiced. “My son supports me. So it’s settled! Tomorrow I’ll start bringing over my things bit by bit.”
Irina stood up and went to the window, pretending to admire the view of the courtyard. In truth, she needed time to process what she’d heard. The three-room apartment had belonged to her before the marriage—she’d inherited it from her grandmother. Alexei had moved in after the wedding, and in five years they had never once discussed the possibility of his relatives moving in.
“Ira, why are you quiet?” Lena asked. “Aren’t you happy?”
Irina turned around. Everyone was watching her expectantly. Valentina Mikhailovna sat in an armchair as if she had already taken possession of her place in the home. The children were playing with pieces of cake, smearing cream around their plates. Alexei drummed his fingers on the table, clearly uncomfortable.
“Valentina Mikhailovna,” Irina began, “I understand it’s difficult for you to be alone. But couldn’t you have asked me first? This is my apartment.”
Her mother-in-law’s face darkened at once.
“Yours? Isn’t my son your husband? Doesn’t he live in this apartment? Or do you consider him a mere lodger?”
“That’s not the point,” Irina tried to explain. “It’s just that matters like this should be discussed in advance, not presented as a fait accompli.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Valentina Mikhailovna cut her off. “Decent people don’t abandon the elderly. And if you’re against it, then my son made a mistake marrying you.”
Viktor backed her up:
“Ira, don’t be stingy. The extra room is empty anyway.”
“It isn’t empty,” Irina countered. “That’s my study; I work from home.”
“Well then work in the bedroom or the kitchen,” Lena shrugged. “What’s the big difference?”
Irina felt indignation boil up inside her. Her husband’s relatives were speaking to her as if her opinion didn’t matter at all. The worst part was that Alexei was silent and making no effort to defend her.
“Alexei,” Irina turned to her husband. “Say something. Your mother wants to move in without my consent.”
Alexei cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Ira, don’t be childish. Mother isn’t a stranger. And she’s right—a helper around the house wouldn’t hurt.”
“What helper?” Irina asked, surprised. “Valentina Mikhailovna, you yourself said you wouldn’t take up much space and would sit quietly in your room.”
“Of course I’ll sit quietly!” the mother-in-law said, offended. “I’ll just cook sometimes, wash the dishes, and look after the grandkids when Lena brings them over.”
Irina slapped her palm to her forehead. The picture was becoming clear. Valentina Mikhailovna not only intended to move in, she was planning to become the full-fledged mistress of the house.
“Mom, when are you moving?” Lena asked. “Maybe we can help this weekend?”
“I’ll start tomorrow,” Valentina Mikhailovna answered happily. “I’ll bring the essentials first, and then the rest little by little.”
Irina sat back down at the table and fixed Alexei with a stern look.
“I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“Let’s talk here,” Valentina Mikhailovna interjected. “There should be no secrets in a family.”
“Valentina Mikhailovna, this concerns only me and Alexei,” Irina said firmly.
The mother-in-law pressed her lips together and huffed in offense. Lena shot Irina a disapproving glance. Viktor ostentatiously turned to the window.
Alexei stood and nodded to his wife. “Let’s go to the bedroom and talk.”
As the couple left the living room, Irina heard Valentina Mikhailovna grumbling to the children, “See how a daughter-in-law speaks to her mother-in-law? In our day, that never happened.”
In the bedroom Irina closed the door and faced her husband.
“Alexei, do you understand what’s happening? Your mother has decided to move in with us without even asking my opinion. And you’re supporting her!”
Alexei sat on the bed and rubbed his face with his hands.
“Ira, what could I say? Mother has already decided. And she really did give away her apartment—she has nowhere to live now.”
“What do you mean, ‘nowhere’?” Irina protested. “She could have kept a place for herself and helped the children some other way!”
“She wanted what’s best,” Alexei sighed. “Lena really is cramped in her one-bedroom, and Viktor rents.”
“And now I’m supposed to solve all your relatives’ problems? At the expense of my apartment?”
Alexei stood and came closer to his wife.
“Ira, try to understand, Mother’s elderly. She’ll be seventy soon. How can I leave her on the street?”
“No one is leaving her on the street! She can rent a place or buy a new one. The money from the sale would be enough.”
“She gave everything to the children; she kept nothing for herself,” Alexei explained.
Irina clapped her hands in outrage.
“Wonderful! So now I have to pay for her generosity! Alexei, this is my apartment, and without my consent no one is moving in!”
His face hardened.
“Ira, don’t be selfish. Mother isn’t a stranger. Besides, she promised to help around the house.”
“What help? Your mother is used to giving orders; she’ll want to reorganize our entire life!”
“You’re exaggerating. Mother is calm and quiet.”
Irina shook her head. Either Alexei didn’t know his mother or he was pretending not to. Valentina Mikhailovna had never been calm. She was energetic and domineering, used to having everyone revolve around her.
“Alexei, I don’t agree,” Irina said firmly. “Your mother needs to look for other options.”
Her husband’s face went cold.
“So you’re throwing my mother out on the street?”
“I’m not throwing her out. I’m simply not allowing her to move into my apartment against my will.”
“Our apartment,” Alexei corrected her. “Or do you consider me a temporary lodger?”
Irina froze. For the first time in five years of marriage, her husband spoke to her in that tone—cold, almost hostile.
“Alexei, what does that have to do with anything? The apartment is in my name; I inherited it. But I’ve never thrown that in your face.”
“You are now,” he noted. “So my mother is a stranger to you.”
“Not a stranger, but not so close that she should live with us under the same roof either! You know your mother’s character. She won’t be a mere roomer. Valentina Mikhailovna will want to run everything!”
From the living room came a child’s loud wail—apparently Masha and Denis had fought over the cake. Then they heard Valentina Mikhailovna’s stern voice scolding the grandchildren.
“Hear that?” Alexei said. “Mother’s already helping. Lena doesn’t have to be distracted.”
Irina sat down on the stool at her vanity. Her husband watched her expectantly, as if waiting for her to change her mind. Through the door came the voices of the relatives, still discussing moving plans.
“All right,” Irina said quietly. “But on certain conditions.”
Alexei’s face brightened. “What conditions?”
“First, Valentina Mikhailovna does not interfere with managing the household. I cook and clean as before. Second, she doesn’t invite anyone over without my knowledge. Third, she doesn’t comment on how I run my home.”
Alexei nodded. “Agreed. I’ll talk to Mother.”
They returned to the living room, where Valentina Mikhailovna was already washing dishes and Lena was getting the children ready to go home.
“So, did you come to an agreement?” the mother-in-law asked without turning from the sink.
“Yes, Mama,” Alexei replied. “Ira agrees.”
Valentina Mikhailovna turned with a satisfied smile.
“Excellent! Then tomorrow I’ll start bringing things over. Irochka, dear, bear with a bit of mess for a while.”
Irina nodded, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Her intuition whispered that their peaceful life was over.
The next morning, Valentina Mikhailovna did indeed show up with two enormous bags. Alexei helped his mother carry things in, while Irina watched from the kitchen as her mother-in-law inspected the future room and expressed dissatisfaction with the furniture layout.
“Irochka, dear, could we move the wardrobe?” Valentina Mikhailovna called from the room. “It’s awkward getting to the window.”
“Mama, finish moving in first; we’ll rearrange the furniture later,” Alexei answered.
The whole day passed in a flurry. Valentina Mikhailovna unpacked boxes, hung her dresses in the closet, and criticized the order in the apartment. The napkins were in the wrong place, the flowers watered incorrectly, the dishes arranged inconveniently.
By evening, fatigue had set in, and Irina tried not to react to the remarks. Alexei left for work after lunch, leaving his wife alone with her mother-in-law.
Three days of relative calm went by, until Saturday, when Lena arrived with the children. She burst into the apartment as if into her own home; the kids scattered through the rooms at once, and Lena plopped into an armchair and pulled out her phone.
“Mom, how are you? Settling in?” the daughter asked without raising her eyes.
“Seems fine,” Valentina Mikhailovna said, setting a candy dish on the table. “Irochka’s good—she doesn’t get in the way.”
Washing dishes in the kitchen, Irina winced at the phrasing. It sounded like her mother-in-law was magnanimously allowing her to live in her own apartment.
“You know, Mom,” Lena went on, “this actually works out well. Now we’ll come visit you right here. No need to schlep to that far apartment of yours.”
Irina froze with a plate in her hands. The meaning sank in. Lena intended to turn Irina’s home into a family hangout for the whole clan.
“Exactly!” Valentina Mikhailovna brightened. “Viktor can come too, and the grandkids will visit their grandmother more often.”
“Mom, can I have a set of keys?” Lena asked. “In case you’re out and I need to come by.”
Irina dried her hands on a towel and stepped into the living room. Valentina’s daughter sat there with her hand out, expecting keys to someone else’s home.
“Lena,” Irina said calmly, “this is my apartment. I don’t give keys to anyone.”
Lena raised her brows in surprise.
“Oh, come on, Ira. Mom lives here now, so relatives should have keys too. In case of emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” Irina asked.
“Well, anything can happen. What if Mom feels unwell and you’re at work? Or if we need to bring groceries?”
Irina shook her head. Her husband’s relatives had completely lost all sense of boundaries.
“Your mother has her own key. That’s enough.”
Valentina Mikhailovna pursed her lips.
“Irochka, don’t be so stingy. Lena isn’t a stranger.”
“Valentina Mikhailovna, this has nothing to do with stinginess. I simply don’t give keys to my apartment to anyone.”
Just then Masha and Denis rushed into the living room, shouting over one another:
“Grandma, can we stay with you for the weekend? There’s remodeling at Mom’s place—it’s so dusty!”
Lena nodded. “Yes, Mom, if that’s okay. The workers are sanding the floor, and the kids started coughing from the dust.”
Irina went rigid. No one had even thought to ask her. They were already planning who would live in her apartment and when.
“Of course, my darlings!” Valentina Mikhailovna cooed. “You’ll stay with Grandma. We’ll watch a movie and bake a cake.”
“Hold on,” Irina interjected. “Is anyone going to ask me?”
They all turned to her in puzzlement.
“Ask you what?” Lena said, surprised. “The kids are going to their grandmother’s.”
“To their grandmother who lives in my apartment,” Irina emphasized.
“So what?” Lena shrugged. “The kids aren’t bothering you—they’re here to see Mom.”
Irina sat down and looked at them all intently. The picture was now crystal clear. Valentina Mikhailovna had no intention of being a quiet boarder. She planned to turn someone else’s home into a family nest for all the relatives.
“Lena,” Irina said slowly, “your mother lives here under certain conditions. Having guests over without my permission isn’t one of them.”
Lena’s face soured.
“What conditions? Mom isn’t living in prison!”
“Lena’s right,” Valentina Mikhailovna supported her daughter. “Grandchildren have the right to visit their grandmother.”
“They do,” Irina agreed. “To visit, not to stay overnight.”
Masha and Denis snuffled in disappointment. Lena jumped up in indignation.
“Ira, why are you being so dog-in-the-manger about this! It’s just two nights at Grandma’s!”
“In my apartment,” Irina reminded her.
“Yes, in yours! So what? The place won’t burn down because the kids sleep here!”
Irina walked to the window. Outside, autumn rain drizzled; yellow leaves swirled in the air. She tried to stay calm, but her patience was running out.
“Bravo!” Irina suddenly turned on the guests, clapping sharply in anger. “Just bravo! You’ve found yourselves a hotel at my expense!”
Faces around the table went long. Valentina Mikhailovna smirked and waved her hand dismissively.
“What are you so angry about? The apartment is yours anyway, but we’ll be living in it now. What difference does it make if someone else drops by from time to time?”
The blood rushed to Irina’s face. The gall of her mother-in-law exceeded all bounds. She spoke as if she were already the rightful mistress of another’s home.
“In my apartment, I’m the only one who decides,” Irina said firmly. “And none of your relatives will be moving in anymore.”
“Ira, why are you making a scene?” Lena tried to smooth things over. “It’s not forever.”
“It doesn’t matter for how long. I never agreed to this.”
Viktor, silent until now, finally spoke up:
“Ira, Mother needs a place to live. She gave the apartment to the kids.”
Irina cut him off:
“She has children to whom she gave everything. Let her live with them.”
“What?” Lena was taken aback. “I have a one-bedroom, and Viktor has a dacha!”
“That’s your problem,” Irina said curtly. “When Valentina Mikhailovna was deciding who got what, she didn’t think about the consequences. Now let the children figure out how to help their mother.”
Valentina Mikhailovna shot to her feet, shouting:
“How dare you talk to me like that! I’m an elder and deserve respect!”
“Respect doesn’t grant the right to dispose of someone else’s property,” Irina replied coolly.
Her mother-in-law was seething. Lena and Viktor exchanged glances, unsure how to react. The children huddled together, frightened by the raised voices.
Irina went to the entryway and took the set of keys from the hall table. She held them in her hand, considering her next step. For the first time in five years of marriage, an open confrontation had erupted in the home.
“Since you decided everything without me,” Irina said slowly, turning back to the relatives, “you can decide your housing without me as well. You won’t be in my apartment.”
Valentina Mikhailovna flushed crimson with rage.
“What?! You’re throwing me out on the street?!”
“I’m protecting my home from people who consider it theirs,” Irina said calmly, pointing to the door.
“Mama, maybe we shouldn’t make a scene?” Lena suggested uncertainly.
“No!” Valentina Mikhailovna cried. “Let her say why she’s against an old woman living in warmth!”
“Because this ‘old woman’ is acting like the mistress of a home that isn’t hers,” Irina answered. “And planning to move the entire family in here.”
“Irochka, we had an agreement,” Alexei, just back from work, tried to intervene.
“We agreed on different conditions,” his wife reminded him. “And it’s turning into your mother making this a thoroughfare.”
Alexei looked helplessly from his relatives to his wife.
“Ira, maybe we can still find a compromise?”
“No compromises,” Irina said firmly. “Your mother has overestimated her position in my home.”
Valentina Mikhailovna clutched at her heart.
“Oh, I feel faint! You’ve driven an old woman to this!”
“The play is over, Valentina Mikhailovna,” Irina said wearily. “Pack your things and leave. All of you.”
Realizing her daughter-in-law was serious, the mother-in-law shifted to tears.
“Alyosha, my son! Do you see how they treat your mother?!”
Alexei hesitated, unsure whose side to take. Lena grabbed the children; Viktor shuffled at the door.
“Mama, maybe we really shouldn’t fight?” Alexei said quietly. “We’ll find another way.”
“Another way has already been found,” Irina said, opening the front door. “Everyone out of my apartment.”
The relatives began gathering their things in silence. Sobbing, Valentina Mikhailovna stuffed her few belongings back into her bags. Lena dressed the children without a word, casting Irina wounded glances.
“Ira, you’ll regret this,” Viktor muttered darkly as he passed.
“I don’t think so,” Irina replied evenly.
When they had all left, Alexei stood in the entryway, at a loss for words.
“Ira, she’s my mother. Where will she go now?”
“To the children she gave all her property to. Let them take care of her now.”
“But Lena has a one-bedroom, and Viktor has only a dacha…”
“Alexei, that’s not my problem,” his wife interrupted. “Your mother created this situation herself.”
He lowered his head.
“They won’t come back?”
“Not into my apartment,” Irina said clearly. “And only the two of us will keep keys.”
Irina locked the door and hung the keys back in their place. The apartment fell quiet and calm. She went into the living room, where cups still stood and children’s toys lay scattered.
As she cleaned up after the uninvited guests, Irina thought over what had happened. For the first time in years of marriage, she felt she was defending not only her home but her right to live as she chose. Her husband’s relatives had grown used to seeing her as soft and accommodating, but today they were mistaken.
Alexei sat in the kitchen silently drinking tea. He was clearly upset about the conflict, but Irina had no intention of apologizing. Boundaries had been violated, and she had every right to restore them.
“They’ll understand eventually,” Irina said quietly, sitting down across from her husband.
“Mother is offended,” Alexei sighed.
“Let her be. Maybe next time she’ll think before taking charge of someone else’s property.”
Her husband nodded, recognizing that she was right. Valentina Mikhailovna had indeed crossed every reasonable line.
That evening, Irina sat in her armchair with a book, savoring the quiet. The apartment once again belonged to just her and her husband. No one would tell her how to live, whom to receive, or on what terms.
Alexei’s phone rang several times—calls from the relatives—but he didn’t answer. Let them sort out their own problems. Irina had defended her home and had no intention of backing down from her decision.
The next morning, the usual peace reigned in the apartment. Irina made breakfast, and Alexei got ready for work. The conflict was behind them, but everyone had learned the lesson. The boundary between what is yours and what is not must remain inviolable—even when it’s a matter of family.