— Lyuda, my mom is going to stop by for an hour today, you don’t mind, do you? — Ruslan poked his head into the kitchen, where his wife was chopping vegetables for a salad.
Lyuda froze with the knife in her hand. It took her a moment to look up at her husband. Everything inside her tightened with tension, but she tried to stay calm.
— For an hour? Like last Saturday? And the one before that? — she set the knife down and wiped her hands on a towel. — Your mother arrives at ten in the morning and leaves at nine at night. With containers full of food that I cooked.
Ruslan gave a guilty smile and spread his hands.
— What can I do? She’s lonely. She misses us.
— I’m lonely too, — Lyuda said quietly. — All week I dream of spending a day off with you, not cooking for your mother while you two watch TV.
— She won’t be long, — Ruslan came over and slipped an arm around her shoulders. — Let’s just put up with it, okay?
Lyuda sighed. She’d heard this dozens of times already. Last time, Marianna Mikhailovna arrived with four empty containers. The time before that — five. Weekends were turning into kitchen duty, and it was getting harder and harder to object.
— Fine, — Lyuda gave in. — But talk to her. We can’t keep doing this every weekend.
— Of course, — Ruslan nodded, avoiding her eyes.
At exactly ten o’clock the doorbell rang. Marianna Mikhailovna, a stately woman in a neat sea-green suit, stood on the threshold with a large bag. Ruslan rushed to hug his mother.
— My darling boy! — exclaimed Marianna Mikhailovna. — I’ve missed you so much!
She came into the apartment, nodded to Lyuda, and headed straight for the living room, where she settled into the most comfortable armchair.
— Lyudochka, do you have any coffee? — she turned on the TV and flipped to a soap opera.
— Of course, Marianna Mikhailovna, — Lyuda replied and went to the kitchen.
Ruslan gave his wife a guilty smile and spread his hands as if to say, “What can you do?” He sat down next to his mother and started asking about her health, the neighbors, the latest news.
Lyuda came back with the coffee and set the cup in front of her mother-in-law. Marianna Mikhailovna didn’t even thank her, completely absorbed in the show.
— I’ll go make lunch, — said Lyuda, though she and Ruslan had planned to go to a café.
— Yes, yes, dear, — her mother-in-law answered absently, not taking her eyes off the screen. — I’ll sit here until evening. And don’t forget to pack dinner.
Several more hours went by like that. Lyuda cooked lunch, set the table, washed the dishes, while Marianna Mikhailovna and Ruslan watched TV. After lunch the mother-in-law dozed off in the armchair, and when she woke up, she demanded tea.
In the evening, when Marianna Mikhailovna was getting ready to go home, she took empty containers from her bag.
— Lyudochka, put in a little soup and some cutlets for me. And some salad. And maybe some compote? I just don’t have time to cook at all, — she held the containers out to her daughter-in-law.
Lyuda silently took them and went to the kitchen. Her shoulders drooped, and her movements turned mechanical. It was the same over and over, week after week.
— Did you talk to your mom? — Lyuda asked her husband when they were finally alone.
— I didn’t get a chance, — Ruslan looked away. — Next time. I promise.
But the next time was no different from the previous one. And the one after that. Every Saturday, Marianna Mikhailovna arrived at ten and left late in the evening with containers full of food. Lyuda tried dropping hints.
— Marianna Mikhailovna, we were planning to go to the movies today.
— It’s fine, I’ll wait for you. Or better yet, go tomorrow. I was actually thinking of coming tomorrow too, — her mother-in-law would reply.
— We were planning to meet friends today.
— I’ll just sit at home. Don’t pay attention to me. It’s even better for me to be alone, in peace and quiet.
But she never stayed by herself, and she never left early.
Time went by, and Lyuda decided to act differently. She enrolled in a floristry course that took place on Saturdays.
— This Saturday I’ll be in class all day, — she told Ruslan.
— Okay, I’ll meet Mom myself, — he nodded.
When Lyuda got home, Marianna Mikhailovna was still there, and the apartment looked like a hurricane had blown through it. Dirty dishes in the sink, crumbs on the table, things scattered everywhere.
— Mom and I didn’t have time to clean up, — Ruslan said apologetically. — You’ll come back earlier next time, won’t you?
Lyuda clenched her teeth but kept quiet. She realized the problem was deeper than it seemed.
— You have to talk to your mother, — Lyuda told her husband firmly on Thursday evening. — This can’t go on. I don’t want to spend every weekend waiting on your mom.
— But she’s my mother! — Ruslan burst out. — She’s a lonely woman; she needs attention!
— And I’m your wife, and I need attention too! — Lyuda’s voice trembled. — I’m tired of being a cook and a maid every weekend. I need personal time. We need time together.
Ruslan sighed and rubbed his forehead.
— All right, I’ll talk to her. But I can’t promise she’ll understand.
On Friday evening Ruslan called his mother. Lyuda could hear their conversation from the kitchen.
— Mom, Lyuda and I would like to spend some weekends together sometimes, — he began. — Maybe you could come less often? Not every Saturday?
— What? — Marianna Mikhailovna’s voice sounded wounded. — You don’t want to see your own mother? Did she turn you against me? I’m a lonely old woman — where am I supposed to go?
— No, Mom, it’s just that we…
— I understand everything! — she cut him off. — I’m old, no one needs me! My son grew up and forgot his mother! Fine, I won’t bother you; sit there together!
She hung up. Ruslan looked deflated.
— See? — he spread his hands. — She took it the wrong way.
— She understood perfectly well, — Lyuda countered. — She’s manipulating you.
— Don’t talk about my mother like that! — Ruslan flared up. — She’s just a lonely woman!
For the first time in a long while, they had a real fight. Lyuda went to sleep in the living room, and Ruslan stayed in the bedroom.
In the morning, right at ten, the doorbell rang. On the doorstep stood Marianna Mikhailovna with tear-streaked eyes.
— Son, — she threw her arms around Ruslan. — I didn’t sleep all night. I was thinking you don’t need me anymore.
Ruslan melted and invited his mother in. Lyuda watched the scene, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.
Marianna Mikhailovna settled into her favorite armchair and turned on the TV. Five minutes later she had already forgotten yesterday’s quarrel and was demanding coffee.
Lyuda realized this couldn’t continue. She decided to act.
On Monday, Lyuda met her friend Vera during her lunch break.
— I can’t take it anymore, — she admitted after describing the situation. — Every Saturday it’s the same thing. I feel like I’m trapped in a vicious circle.
— Have you tried leaving for the weekend? — Vera suggested. — Maybe to your parents’ or to my place?
— I tried once. Marianna Mikhailovna still came, and when she found out I wasn’t there, she started calling Ruslan every hour. He ended up sitting with her until evening. And then he told me I’d let him down.
Vera thought for a moment.
— You know, I think you need to find her an activity. Something to take up her time.
— Like what?
— A hobby group, a club for seniors, something like that.
Lyuda shook her head.
— She won’t go. Says her legs hurt whenever it’s inconvenient. But when it’s about traveling across the city to our place, her legs magically stop hurting.
— Then maybe find her a friend? Someone she could spend time with?
That idea struck a chord with Lyuda. A new neighbor, Irina Viktorovna, had recently moved into their building — about the same age as Marianna Mikhailovna. She seemed nice and often treated neighbors to homemade pastries.
— You know, that might work, — Lyuda said. — Thanks for the idea.
The next Saturday, as usual, Marianna Mikhailovna arrived at ten. Lyuda greeted her with a smile.
— Marianna Mikhailovna, I’d like to introduce you to our new neighbor, — she said. — Irina Viktorovna also loves TV series and needlework. I think you’ll enjoy talking.
Her mother-in-law gave her a skeptical look but agreed. After lunch, Lyuda invited Irina Viktorovna over for tea. To her surprise, the two women really hit it off. They discussed shows, exchanged recipes, talked about their youth.
By evening, Irina Viktorovna invited Marianna Mikhailovna to her place the next day:
— I have a wonderful apple pie recipe. Come over, I’ll show you how to make it.
Marianna Mikhailovna agreed, but still left with containers full of food.
— See? — Lyuda said to her husband that evening. — Your mother just lacks company. Maybe now she’ll visit us less often?
But Lyuda was wrong. The next week, Marianna Mikhailovna came again — and brought Irina Viktorovna along.
— We decided to watch that new series I told you about together, — the mother-in-law explained, settling into the armchair.
Now, instead of one guest, they had two. Although Irina Viktorovna was much nicer — she helped Lyuda in the kitchen and always thanked her for the treats.
After several such visits, Lyuda realized the situation was only getting more complicated. She decided to speak with Irina Viktorovna privately.
— Please don’t take this the wrong way, — Lyuda began. — We really appreciate your company, but sometimes we’d like to be alone together. Could you invite Marianna Mikhailovna over to your place instead?
Irina Viktorovna smiled understandingly.
— Of course, dear. I understand completely. My son is married too, and I try not to intrude on the young couple. I’ll talk to Marianna.
But the talk didn’t help. Marianna Mikhailovna kept coming every Saturday, sometimes with Irina, sometimes alone.
— I’m his mother! — she would say. — Am I not allowed to visit my own son?
The tension between Lyuda and Ruslan grew. They quarreled more and more often because of Marianna Mikhailovna.
— You don’t respect my mother! — Ruslan accused.
— And you don’t respect our family! — Lyuda retorted. — We can’t even spend a weekend together!
The situation heated up by the day.
Midweek, Ruslan’s phone rang. It was Marianna Mikhailovna.
— Son, I decided to surprise you for your birthday! — she exclaimed. — On Saturday I’ll bake your favorite cake and bring it over!
Ruslan hesitated. He and Lyuda had planned to spend his birthday together. Lyuda had reserved a table at a restaurant and bought a present he’d wanted for a long time.
— Mom, we were actually planning…
— No objections! — Marianna cut him off. — A mother has the right to congratulate her son on his birthday!
Ruslan didn’t have the strength to argue. When he told Lyuda, she was furious.
— No! — she cried. — Not this time! I’ve been planning this evening for a month! I booked a table at a restaurant!
— We can go to the restaurant tomorrow, — Ruslan tried to calm her down.
— And tomorrow your mom will come too? And we’ll reschedule again? For when? Next week? Next month? Next year?
They fought again, and Lyuda went to sleep in the living room.
On Saturday, Ruslan’s birthday, Marianna Mikhailovna didn’t come alone. She brought Irina Viktorovna and a few other neighbors whom Lyuda barely knew. They carried a huge cake, salads, and appetizers.
— Surprise! — cried Marianna when Lyuda opened the door. — We decided to throw Ruslan a proper celebration!
Ruslan looked embarrassed but didn’t object. The evening Lyuda had planned as a romantic dinner for two turned into a noisy party.
The guests settled in the living room, Marianna took her favorite armchair, and started issuing instructions:
— Lyudochka, put the kettle on. And get the big plates for the cake. Don’t forget the napkins.
Lyuda felt herself boiling inside. She silently went to the kitchen. Ruslan followed her.
— I’m sorry, — he said quietly. — I didn’t know she’d bring so many people.
— You never know anything, — Lyuda replied coldly. — And you can never do anything about it.
She returned to the living room with the kettle and cups. Marianna was just telling the guests what a wonderful child Ruslan had been.
— And he ended up with such a capable fiancée — — she nodded toward Lyuda. — She’s a great cook. I always take her food home. I can’t stand at the stove for long anymore; my legs hurt.
Lyuda set the kettle down and straightened up.
— Marianna Mikhailovna, may I have a word? — she gestured toward the kitchen.
Her mother-in-law raised her eyebrows in surprise but followed her.
— What’s the matter, dear? — she asked once they were alone.
— The matter is that for six months now you’ve been coming to our place every weekend, — Lyuda said quietly but firmly. — You arrive in the morning and leave in the evening. You take all the food I cook. You don’t help around the house. You bring guests without warning. And today, on Ruslan’s birthday, when we planned a romantic evening, you turned it into a party with people I barely know.
Marianna recoiled as if struck.
— How dare you! — she cried. — I’m Ruslan’s mother! I have the right to see my son!
— You do have the right to see your son, — Lyuda agreed. — But not every weekend from morning till night. We have our own life. We want to be alone together sometimes.
— Oh, that’s how it is! — Marianna threw up her hands. — You want to tear a son away from his mother! I knew it!
Ruslan, worried, poked his head into the kitchen.
— What’s going on? — he asked. — The guests are waiting for the cake.
— What’s going on is that your wife is throwing me out of the house! — Marianna declared theatrically. — On your birthday!
— What? — Ruslan looked from Marianna to Lyuda. — Are you serious?
— I’m not throwing you out, — Lyuda said calmly. — I’m just saying we can’t keep meeting every Saturday all day long. Marianna Mikhailovna, you have your own apartment. You have a friend — Irina Viktorovna. You can go to the theater, to museums, to the park. But instead you sit on our couch every weekend.
— Because I love my son! — the mother-in-law exclaimed. — And you’re trying to separate us!
— Mom, calm down, — Ruslan tried to embrace her, but she pushed him away.
— No! I understand everything! I’m leaving! — she ran out of the kitchen, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. — Since no one needs me here!
The guests in the living room fell silent, not understanding what was happening. Ruslan rushed after his mother.
— Mom, wait! That’s not what Lyuda meant!
But Marianna had already rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly.
An awkward silence hung over the living room. Irina Viktorovna stood and came over to Lyuda.
— I’ll go after her, — she said quietly. — Don’t worry.
The other guests began to take their leave as well. Ten minutes later, the apartment was empty. Lyuda and Ruslan were alone.
— Happy now? — Ruslan asked. — You ruined my birthday and offended my mother.
— Me? — Lyuda couldn’t believe her ears. — Your mother ruined our evening! We were supposed to go to a restaurant, and instead I spent the whole day cooking and serving her friends!
— She wanted to do something nice for me! — Ruslan protested. — And you drove her away!
— I didn’t drive her away! I just said we can’t see each other every Saturday all day!
— That’s the same thing! — Ruslan grabbed his jacket. — I’m going after her. Don’t wait up.
He left the apartment, leaving Lyuda alone amid the dirty dishes and half-eaten cake.
Lyuda sank onto a chair and covered her face with her hands. Everything had gone completely wrong. She hadn’t wanted a fight or a scandal. She just wanted a normal family life.
Her phone rang — it was Vera.
— How was the birthday? — her friend asked.
Lyuda told her everything that had happened.
— Come over, — Vera suggested. — Don’t sit there alone.
Lyuda agreed. She left a note for Ruslan and went out.
Lyuda spent the rest of the evening and the whole night at Vera’s. They drank wine and talked about life, family, and boundaries.
— You’re absolutely right, — Vera said. — You can’t let a mother-in-law manipulate you like that. But maybe you should have picked another moment for the conversation?
— Maybe, — Lyuda agreed. — But this was the last weekend she was going to ruin. I couldn’t take it anymore.
In the morning, Ruslan called Lyuda.
— Where are you? — he asked. His voice sounded tired.
— At Vera’s, — Lyuda replied. — And you?
— At home. I got back an hour ago.
— You were with your mom all night?
— Yes. She’s very upset. She cried.
Lyuda sighed.
— Ruslan, I’m sorry it turned out this way. But we have to resolve this once and for all.
— I agree, — he said unexpectedly. — Come home. Let’s talk.
When Lyuda returned, Ruslan was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. He looked exhausted.
— I talked to Mom all night, — he said when Lyuda sat down opposite him. — And with Irina Viktorovna.
— And?
— And I realized you’re right. Mom really does come too often and stays too long. And yes, she takes too much food.
Lyuda looked at her husband in surprise.
— What made you see that?
— Irina Viktorovna, — Ruslan gave a weak smile. — She told me she used to be the same kind of overbearing mother, and her son ended up moving to another city and barely speaks to her. She said she realized her mistake too late.
— And did your mother accept that?
— Not exactly, — Ruslan shook his head. — She still thinks you’re trying to separate us. But she agreed to a compromise.
— What kind of compromise?
— She’ll come once every two weeks, won’t stay past lunch, and won’t bring guests without warning.
Lyuda looked at her husband skeptically.
— Seriously? She agreed to that?
— Yes. She’s afraid of losing me. Like what happened to Irina’s son.
— And what about the food containers?
— We didn’t talk about that, — Ruslan admitted. — But I think we can limit that too.
Lyuda felt relieved. For the first time in a long while, there was hope their weekends would be their own again.
— Thank you, — she said softly. — Thank you for talking to her.
Ruslan took her hand.
— I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner. I just… she’s my mom, you know? I didn’t want to upset her.
— I understand, — Lyuda nodded. — But understand me too. I’m your wife. We’re a family. We need time for each other.
— I know, — Ruslan squeezed her hand. — I promise, from now on it’ll be different.
A month passed. Marianna Mikhailovna kept her word — she came once every two weeks, called beforehand, and didn’t stay past lunch. The containers of food still went home with her, but in smaller quantities.
Marianna and Irina became close friends. They started going to the theater and exhibitions together and took up handicrafts. Irina even introduced her to a group of women her age who met once a week to play board games.
Lyuda and Ruslan were finally able to spend their weekends as they pleased. Their relationship gradually improved; they began going to the movies again, meeting friends, and simply enjoying each other’s company without Marianna’s constant presence.
One Wednesday the phone rang. Lyuda picked up — it was her mother-in-law.
— Lyudochka, — Marianna’s voice sounded unusually gentle. — I’m calling to ask… May I come on Saturday? I wanted to show you and Ruslan a new board game Irina and I learned.
— Of course, Marianna Mikhailovna, — Lyuda replied. — We’d be happy to see you. What time is convenient?
— Maybe around lunchtime? I’ll bring my signature pie, — her mother-in-law suggested.
— Perfect. We’ll expect you at two.
When Lyuda hung up, she realized that for the first time in a long while she didn’t feel irritated at the thought of her mother-in-law’s visit. Now that Marianna had learned to respect their boundaries, spending time with her had even become pleasant.
On Saturday, Marianna really did arrive at two, with a pie and the board game. Irina came with her. The four of them spent a wonderful day playing, talking, and laughing.
In the evening, as the women were getting ready to leave, Marianna pulled Lyuda aside.
— Lyudochka, I wanted to say… — she began, clearly nervous. — I still think I was right. A mother has the right to see her son as often as she wants.
Lyuda tensed, expecting another jab, but her mother-in-law unexpectedly went on:
— But I realized that sometimes you have to give in. Irina told me how she lost touch with her son because she was too persistent. I don’t want Ruslan to grow distant from me. And… — she faltered. — I can see that you make him happy. You’re a good couple.
— Thank you, — Lyuda said softly, hardly believing her ears.
— Don’t think I’m admitting I was wrong, — Marianna added quickly. — I still think you should spend more time with me. But… I’m willing to compromise.
She gave an awkward smile and held out her hand.
— Truce?
Lyuda shook the offered hand.
— Truce, Marianna Mikhailovna.
When the guests left, Ruslan hugged his wife.
— Well? Not so scary, right?
— Not so scary, — Lyuda agreed. — Though your mom still thinks she was right.
— Of course she does, — Ruslan laughed. — She’ll never admit she was wrong. But the important thing is she’s learned to respect our boundaries.
— And that’s enough, — Lyuda nodded, snuggling into her husband.
And on the kitchen table there remained a container with the pie that Marianna had forgotten to take. But now Lyuda didn’t feel irritated. She knew that, little by little, they were finding the right balance in their relationship with Marianna Mikhailovna.