— “Nastya, any plans for the weekend?” Pasha asked his fiancée as they lay cuddled on the couch in the evening, watching a series.
— “Me?” She turned her head toward him. “I haven’t even thought about it! Why, do you have something in mind?”
— “It’s just that my folks are planning to come to the city this weekend! So I thought maybe we could throw together a dinner, and you could finally meet my parents and my kid sister! We’ve been trying to get out to see them for a month and it just hasn’t worked out. And now they’re coming here themselves!”
— “Why not?” the girl shrugged. “And when did you find out they were coming?”
— “Just now, literally! Kristinka texted me! They’re heading into the city to stock up for the New Year holidays!”
— “Yeah, sure, let’s do it, I don’t mind,” Nastya said and yawned.
— “Only, Nastyon, we’ll need to get the apartment in perfect order! You know, so my mom will be pleased at what a neat freak you are! She likes the house spotless—no dust, no trash, not even a hint of it!”
Nastya lifted her head and gave Pavel a strange look.
— “Are you trying to say I’m a slob or something?” she asked, puzzled. “We keep the place tidy as it is! So don’t start with me, okay?”
— “That’s not what I meant! I didn’t say you were a slob, I just said that before they get here we should make it absolutely perfect! So no one has any questions at all!”
— “Pash, the house is already always in perfect order—you know that perfectly well—so I’m not going to scrub the place down within an inch of its life. That’s it, topic closed,” she said irritably.
— “Why get wound up right away, Nastya? I just want it to go well so my mom will like you!”
— “Listen, Pash, I’ve got a question for you. Do you like me?”
— “What kind of question is that?” Pavel was surprised. “Of course I do—more than anyone!”
— “Then that’s where we leave it. I’m not going to bend over backwards to make someone else like me—even your mom. Sorry if that sounds rude. Is our home in order? It is. There’s always food made. We both work and support ourselves. We have an apartment. What more do we need?”
— “You have an apartment,” Pasha corrected her.
— “Doesn’t matter. You live here with me, which means we have one. So that’s that, Pash—drop it and let’s not come back to this again.”
Pasha wanted to argue more, but she made it clear he shouldn’t.
There were only a couple of days left until the weekend. Pasha’s parents and younger sister were due to arrive on Saturday. Pavel awaited the day with a bit of trepidation. He was very worried about how his mother, Svetlana Viktorovna, would take to his girlfriend. She was a very strict person, nitpicking over every little thing.
On Friday, when Pasha and Nastya got home from work, he brought up the same topic again.
— “Nastyon, let’s have a quick bite and then do some cleaning,” he suggested.
— “Why?” she asked, surprised. “Everything’s tidy already. Tomorrow morning I’ll dust a bit and mop the floors, and that’s it.”
— “No, Nastya, let’s do it now—and not just a bit of dusting and mopping. Let’s do a deep clean! So everything shines everywhere,” he said, a little nervous.
— “Pash, are you really that afraid of your mother?” Anastasia looked at her fiancé in surprise.
— “What makes you say that?”
— “Because for the last few days you’ve been obsessed with cleaning and with the idea that your mom might not like something! What are you, ten years old, to be shaking like that over your mother? You told me she’s the kindest soul, and now you’re acting like you’re scared of the mere thought of her coming.”
Pasha first wanted to make excuses or maybe crack a joke, but he changed his mind and told her straight so there’d be no questions later.
— “I did say that, yeah. Only… how can I put this… that was my made-up image of a good, kind mother. In reality, my mom is basically a tyrant in a skirt.”
— “You’re kidding,” Nastya smirked. “Even if she is a tyrant, believe me, it won’t make me hot or cold.”
— “Nastya, you don’t understand! She’ll pick at every little thing—every speck of dust and every crumb! Even the way we stack the dishes on that metal rack next to the sink to drip dry—she’ll hate that. She always made my sister and me wipe the dishes dry after washing and put them away immediately. She’s a real tyrant in a skirt! I’m not joking!”
— “And so what?” the girl kept laughing. “Listen, first of all, I’m in my own home. Second, I do things in my home the way I see fit, and I’m not going to adjust for anyone. Especially by trying to act like someone I’m not! It’s better to show people exactly who you are when you first meet. You know I can’t stand hypocrisy and fawning. So calm down—you’re almost twenty-five, sweetheart, and you’re still afraid of your mom… I don’t even know her yet, but honestly, you’re not presenting her—or yourself, by the way—in the best light.”
— “Sorry, Nastyon! I’m just really worried and nervous. I don’t know how to control it.”
The next day started with them almost getting into a fight. While Anastasia was tidying up at her usual pace—dusting, mopping—Pasha was fussing around her, asking her to do it much more thoroughly.
Nastya put up with it—but not for long. Her patience ran out when Pavel insisted she scrub all the radiators in the apartment. Nastya usually wiped the tops and only cleaned deep inside rarely—when dust buildup was plainly visible.
— “For God’s sake, Pash—if you need it done, go to the bathroom, grab a cloth, and lick the place clean for all I care! We just talked about this yesterday, and you’re already driving me crazy this morning with your mom! She hasn’t even arrived yet, and I already don’t really want her to come! You’ve actually managed to get on my nerves with your whining in just one morning!”
— “Nastya, how can you say that?” he said, offended.
— “Honestly, you’re a grown man and you’re acting worse than a little kid! ‘Mom this, Mom that, Mom won’t like this, Mom won’t approve of that!’ I didn’t think you were such a mama’s boy!” Nastya fumed.
— “Don’t yell,” Pavel pleaded.
— “Then stop whining and nagging. Go flop down with your game console and don’t get in my way while I clean!”
Pasha scowled but didn’t argue. He wanted to try once more to get his point across, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Anastasia snapped up her hand, making a “zip it” gesture.
Half an hour later, everything Anastasia planned was done. The apartment was tidy—as always.
— “What time will they get here?” Nastya asked Pavel.
— “They’re already in the city—about forty minutes.”
— “Weren’t they going shopping?”
— “They’re going tomorrow, then heading straight home.”
— “Wait, are they staying the night here?” Nastya was surprised.
— “Well, yeah! I told you!”
— “You didn’t tell me anything, Pash! Didn’t even hint at it! And where are they supposed to sleep?”
— “We’ll make up the couch in the living room—at least for Mom and Kristinka—and Dad can sleep on the floor, or in the small room on that old little sofa.”
Nastya didn’t reply—she just shook her head, displeased.
Right before they arrived, Pavel came up to Nastya and said:
— “Nastyona, I need to ask you something—please don’t get mad.”
But Nastya was already at her limit.
— “Ask what? What’s wrong now? What else won’t your mom approve of?”
— “No, it’s not that.”
Pasha stared down at the floor, not knowing where to start.
— “I told them that… basically, that this is a rental, that we’re renting this place.”
— “What?” Nastya was livid. “Are you nuts? Why would you say that? You know perfectly well this is my apartment—my parents gave it to me when they built their house outside the city!”
— “I know! But please, I’m asking you—just play along, okay?”
— “Why didn’t you tell them the truth? And why should I lie because of you?”
— “It’s just that my dad won’t be thrilled to hear I’m living in my girlfriend’s apartment. Mom either. They think it’s not manly.”
— “Unbelievable.” Nastya sank into an armchair in the living room, bewildered.
— “What? You’ll play along, right?”
— “I’m just in shock, Pash,” she said.
Pavel sat down across from her, giving her a guilty look.
— “Call your parents and tell them it’s off. I don’t want them coming here. I don’t want to start this acquaintance with a big lie. And frankly, after this, I’m not planning to marry you. As for the apartment—forget about it entirely. Better yet, pack your things and please leave.”
— “But Nastya, I love you! You can’t be serious!”
— “I’m deadly serious, Pash! I said that’s it. No wedding, nothing between us. I don’t need the kind of ‘surprises’ you’ve dumped on me over the last two days for the rest of my life. Pack your things and goodbye,” Anastasia said sternly.
At that moment the intercom buzzed.
— “Nastya, please calm down! They’re here already, I’ll go let them in! Let’s do this without scenes or any drama, please!”
— “You’ve already pulled all the drama, Pasha! You’ve lied yourself into a corner—and you tried to drag me into it too! I said it’s over between us! I’m not letting anyone into my apartment. Tell them to wait for you downstairs—you’ll be down soon with your things.”
— “Nastya, you can’t be serious! Over something so small?”
— “What, lying is ‘something small’ to you?” she smirked. “You know what, if it’s a trifle to you, to me it’s a serious offense. And now I don’t even know…”
— “Don’t know what?”
— “I don’t know anything! Turns out I don’t know you at all! We’ve been living together almost a year, and I have no idea when you were lying to me and when you were telling the truth!”
— “I didn’t lie to you!” Pasha said.
— “I’m not so sure about that. Actually, I’m sure of the opposite,” Nastya said. “Anyway, that’s it, Pasha! I’ve said everything. Pack your things—your family is already waiting for you outside!”
— “I don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to break up, Nastya! Where am I supposed to go now? I have work on Monday—are you even thinking with your head about what you’re doing?”
— “Unlike you, I use my head all the time. You, not so much. Because if you did, you wouldn’t fool everyone around you and you wouldn’t be asking me to play along.”
While they argued, Pasha’s mother called. He glanced at the incoming call and rejected it.
— “Fine! I’ll tell them the whole truth right now, and you won’t have to lie. Will that work for you?”
— “Don’t do me any favors, Pasha. I wasn’t going to lie anyway. And I’m not changing my decision either—I don’t want to see you here anymore! Pack up and go, nicely. Otherwise I’ll call my dad and he’ll ‘ask’ you in a different way.”
His phone rang again.
He picked up and answered, tense. He asked his mom to wait for him downstairs, but didn’t explain why they weren’t being let into the building.
For about an hour Pasha rushed around his girlfriend’s apartment, packing his things. Thankfully there wasn’t anything big—just clothes, a laptop, and the gaming console Nastya had recently given him.
— “And where do you think you’re going with that?” Nastya asked when Pavel started unplugging the console from the TV.
— “It’s mine—you gave it to me!”
— “Don’t you dare touch it! I bought it for the two of us, not as a gift to you!”
— “Oh, choke on your damn console!” Pasha snapped.
— “Gladly,” Nastya shot back.
She shadowed him around the apartment so he wouldn’t accidentally take anything that wasn’t his.
When he left Anastasia’s place, Nastya had to run out to the stairwell and demand he return the keys. But Pasha refused and told her to buzz off.
So Nastya had no choice but to call her father, explain the situation, and ask him to come change all the locks as soon as possible.
After that, Nastya saw Pasha around town a few times—he even tried to talk to her once or twice. But she acted like she didn’t even know him.
Then one evening, almost a month after she’d kicked him out, Pasha came to her place.
— “Who is it?” she asked through the door, knowing perfectly well it was Pavel.
— “Nastya, you can see who it is! Open up—let’s talk, please! Open the door!”
— “Get lost before I call the police! And don’t come here again!” she shot back.
— “I brought the keys!”
— “Keep them. I changed the locks.”
— “Seriously? You don’t trust me that much?”
— “Pash, leave while you still can, please. After you, I don’t trust anyone. I realized that no matter how long you’ve known a person, they can still pull a stunt like that. So thanks.”
— “For what?” he didn’t understand.
— “For everything. Especially for the experience. If not for you, I’d still be a naïve, trusting girl. So thanks again—and get out of here before I really call the police!”