“Damn it, I told you in advance!” Tonya was throwing summer dresses into the suitcase as if she were taking revenge on them for everything in the world. “I told you we had to book in advance! And you: ‘We’ll make it, Tonka, don’t stress!’”
Semyon was silently smoking on the balcony, staring out at the gray apartment blocks. They had been planning this vacation for six months. Crimea, the sea, peace and quiet… And now instead of the sea — these brazen relatives.
“Son, your aunt is coming today with the whole family, so forget about the sea!” his mother announced from the doorway, without even really saying hello.
Galina Stepanovna appeared in their apartment as always—suddenly and categorically. Bags in her hands, and on her face that expression Tonya mentally called, “I’ve decided everything for you.”
“Mum, what are you doing?” Semyon stubbed his cigarette out on the railing. “We’ve bought the tickets, the hotel is booked…”
“What am I doing? Aunt Nadya is coming with her grandkids, they have nowhere to stay. Blood relatives, after all! And the sea…” she waved a hand. “The sea isn’t going anywhere.”
Tonya felt something inside her twist into a tight knot. For eleven months she had been putting money aside from every paycheck. Counting every penny, denying herself new boots, skipping outings to cafés with her friends. All for the sake of those two weeks by the sea.
“Galina Stepanovna,” Tonya’s voice sounded far too even, which was always a bad sign, “did you tell them that we’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Oh come on, girl! What sea when the family is getting together!” her mother-in-law was already laying out groceries on the kitchen table. “You have to receive relatives the way you should.”
“The way you should?” Tonya came out of the bedroom, clutching a half-packed swimsuit in her hands. “And is it ‘the way you should’ to ask the people who live here before you move someone in with them?”
Galina Stepanovna straightened up, and something dangerous flashed in her eyes.
“Have you forgotten whose apartment this is? And whose son he is?”
“Mum, that’s enough!” Semyon came in from the balcony, but there was none of the firmness in his voice that Tonya had been counting on.
And then everything started spinning like in a bad dream. Aunt Nadya arrived—a plump, loud woman in her fifties—with two adult children and three grandchildren. The apartment instantly turned into a train station hall.
“Tonechka, darling!” Aunt Nadya hugged her so tightly the crack of vertebrae could probably be heard in the next room. “How wonderful that you didn’t go anywhere! Otherwise we wouldn’t have seen each other!”
The children were tearing down the hallway screaming, the adults were loudly discussing politics in the kitchen, and Tonya stood in the middle of her bedroom staring at the suitcase with the clothes for the sea.
“Tonya, don’t sulk,” Semyon tried to hug her, but she pulled away. “Come on, we’ll just wait it out for a week…”
“A week?” She turned to him, and for the first time in a long while he saw something cold in her eyes. “And how do you know it will only be a week?”
He didn’t know. No one did.
Aunt Nadya and the clan settled into their apartment thoroughly. The fridge was being emptied at hurricane speed, the TV never stopped for a minute, and there was always someone splashing around in the bathroom.
On the third day, over dinner, Aunt Nadya suddenly said:
“You know what, my dears? Why don’t we all go to the sea together! What a company we’d make!”
Tonya choked on her borscht.
“What do you mean, all together?” she asked once she’d cleared her throat.
“Well, you were going to go anyway, you have the tickets… And we’ll go with you! The sea is so good for the children!”
“Nadya,” Galina Stepanovna nodded, “you’re absolutely right. The family should be together.”
Semyon sat silently, chewing his bread. Tonya looked at him and understood—he had already given in. As always, when it came to his mother and relatives.
“And the money for the trip? For accommodation?” Tonya asked quietly.
“Oh, Tonechka,” Aunt Nadya waved it off, “we’re family! What are a few pennies… Semyonchik will help, he’s the man!”
And they went. All of them.
Nine people crammed into the two rooms Tonya had booked for a romantic vacation for two.
The very first day at the sea turned into a nightmare. The children screamed, demanding ice cream every half hour. Aunt Nadya and her daughter loudly discussed other vacationers’ private lives for all to hear. And when it was time for lunch…
“Semyonchik,” Aunt Nadya put a hand on his shoulder, “you’ll treat us in this lovely café, won’t you?”
Semyon looked at the prices on the menu, then at Tonya. She sat turned toward the sea, her shoulders tense like a drawn string.
“Of course, Aunt Nadya,” he said.
And in the evening, when the bill for dinner for nine in the restaurant turned out to be more than their monthly salary, something in Semyon finally snapped.
“That’s it!” He pushed back his chair so sharply that the legs scraped across the tiles. “Enough!”
Aunt Nadya froze with a glass of wine halfway to her mouth. The children fell silent. Even the sea outside the restaurant window seemed to grow quieter.
“Semyonchik, what’s wrong with you?” Aunt Nadya arranged her face into a mask of surprise. “We’re having such a good time…”
“Good?” Semyon’s voice was quiet, but Tonya knew—that was the most dangerous tone. “Tell me, Aunt Nadya, how much money have you spent over these three days?”
“Oh, come on, dear…” She gave an awkward little laugh. “We’re guests…”
“Guests?” Semyon pulled a small notebook out of his pocket—the one he always carried—and started reading: “Breakfast for nine—four thousand. Ice cream and drinks on the beach—one and a half thousand. Lunch—five and a half. Dinner—seven thousand two hundred. And that’s just for today.”
Aunt Nadya’s pink face went white, then red.
“Semyon, the children are here…” she hissed.
“The children!” He slapped the notebook down on the table. “And in front of the children you’re showing them how to live at someone else’s expense! How to shamelessly use people!”
The oldest of Aunt Nadya’s grandsons, a guy of about twenty who hadn’t looked up from his phone all evening, suddenly raised his head:
“Dude, what’s your problem? We’re family…”
“Family?” Semyon turned to him. “Have you once said ‘thank you’? Once offered to pay at least for yourself?”
“Semyon!” That was now Aunt Nadya’s daughter, a woman in her thirties with slicked-back hair. “You’ve got some nerve! Mum came to you with nothing but kindness, and you…”
“With kindness?” Tonya couldn’t hold back anymore. She stood up beside her husband, and there was such fury in her voice that the waiter at the next table turned to stare. “You showed up without an invitation, ruined our vacation, and now you’re stuffing yourselves at our expense! That’s kindness?”
“Tonechka,” Aunt Nadya tried to adopt a conciliatory tone, “we didn’t mean to… We just thought…”
“Thought what?” Tonya leaned over the table toward her. “That Semyon is a cash cow? That we’re obliged to support you?”
“How dare you!” Aunt Nadya shot to her feet. “I carried him in my arms! Galina Stepanovna will hear about these words!”
“Oh, she’ll hear,” Semyon pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her right now and tell her how much your ‘family warmth’ costs!”
He started dialing, but Aunt Nadya grabbed his hand.
“Don’t! Semyonchik, come on now… We didn’t do it on purpose…”
“Not on purpose?” Tonya laughed bitterly. “Did you order lobsters by accident? Ask for the most expensive wine on the list by accident?”
The little granddaughter suddenly burst into tears. Then another child joined in. People at the neighboring tables were now openly staring at their row.
“That’s it,” Semyon put his credit card on the table. “This is the last time. Tomorrow you’re going home. On your own money.”
“What are you saying!” shrieked Aunt Nadya’s daughter. “We have vouchers for a week!”
“What vouchers?” Tonya asked sweetly. “You’re our guests, remember?”
“We wanted to take the kids to the sea for their health!” Aunt Nadya played her last card. “The doctor said—the sea is essential!”
“And did the doctor say they should get treated at my expense?” Semyon signed the receipt without looking at her. “Strange doctor.”
When they got back to the room, a real family hurricane broke out. Aunt Nadya sobbed into the phone, complaining to Galina Stepanovna. The children tore up and down the hotel corridor, loudly demanding attention. Aunt Nadya’s daughter was firing off angry messages in the family group chat.
And Tonya sat out on the balcony, looking at the black sea and, for the first time in a long while, was smiling.
“Do you regret it?” Semyon asked, sitting down beside her.
“Regret what?”
“That the vacation is spoiled…”
Tonya looked at him—at this forty-year-old man who had finally found the courage to say “no” to his own family.
“You know,” she said, “I think our vacation is only just beginning.”
In the morning, Aunt Nadya and her brood packed in silence, sullen and offended. Galina Stepanovna called every half hour, demanding explanations. But Semyon simply turned off his phone.
“They’ll get home, then we’ll talk,” he said, helping to load the suitcases into the taxi.
The farewell was cold. Aunt Nadya grumbled something about ingratitude, her daughter ostentatiously refused to shake hands, and the grandchildren slammed the car doors.
When the taxi disappeared around the corner, Semyon and Tonya stood at the hotel entrance. Alone. Finally alone.
“Tonya,” he took her hand, “I…”
“Shh,” she pressed a finger to his lips. “Let’s just go to the beach. We still have four days.”
Four days they had earned.
But the story didn’t end there. Because Galina Stepanovna was already preparing a counter-attack…
The call came on the third day of their “new” vacation. Semyon was sunbathing on the beach, Tonya was reading under an umbrella, and for the first time in a week they felt like human beings, not service staff.
“Semyon Viktorovich?” The unfamiliar female voice on the phone sounded official. “This is the administration of the Golden Shore Hotel. We have a question for you…”
“I’m listening,” Semyon frowned.
“You see, today a group of people arrived who claim that you have paid for their stay. They are demanding to be checked into your rooms…”
Semyon felt a chill run down his spine.
“What group?”
“Nine people. Led by a woman named Galina Stepanovna. She says she’s your mother…”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Semyon jumped up from the lounger. “Tonya! Tonya, pack up, quick!”
“What’s happened?” Tonya put her book down.
“My mother’s here. With Aunt Nadya. The whole crowd!”
They rushed back to the hotel, but it was already too late. In the lobby they were greeted by a scene worthy of a theater of the absurd.
Galina Stepanovna, dressed in her best suit and fully made up, was waving her passport in front of the nose of a frightened young receptionist. Aunt Nadya was sobbing in an armchair, dabbing at her eyes with a hanky. The children were racing between the suitcases, and Aunt Nadya’s daughter was furiously typing on her phone.
“This is outrageous!” shouted Galina Stepanovna. “I’m his mother! Mother! And they won’t let me in to see my own son!”
“Mum, what are you doing?” Semyon walked up to the desk.
“Oh! Son!” She threw herself at him with open arms. “At last! And this girl says the rooms are occupied!”
“They are occupied. By us,” Tonya said dryly.
“Tonechka, dear!” Aunt Nadya jumped up from the chair. “We decided to forgive you! And we came to make peace!”
“Forgive us?” Semyon was at the breaking point. “Forgive us for what, exactly?”
“Well, you know…” Galina Stepanovna shook her head reproachfully. “You behaved so badly with your relatives…”
“Grandma, where are our rooms?” whined the youngest grandson. “I want to go to the sea!”
“Just a minute, honey, just a minute…” Aunt Nadya patted his head. “Uncle Syoma will get us checked in…”
“Uncle Syoma won’t be checking anyone in!” exploded Semyon. “Have you completely lost your minds?”
At that moment a security guard came into the lobby—a big guy with a serious face.
“Excuse me, but I was told there’s a disturbance…”
“There’s no disturbance!” babbled Galina Stepanovna. “We’re just a family wanting to rest together!”
“And who will be paying for the rooms?” the receptionist asked.
Everyone looked at Semyon. He felt like a trapped animal.
“No one!” he said loudly. “Because I didn’t invite these people!”
“How can you say that?” Galina Stepanovna widened her eyes in horror. “My own son didn’t invite his own mother?”
“Mum, we’re on our honeymoon!” Semyon lied. “We got married again!”
Tonya almost choked. Aunt Nadya gasped. The children stared at them with interest.
“What honeymoon?” Galina Stepanovna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You’ve been married for ten years!”
“We remarried!” Semyon pushed on. “For love! We wanted to be alone!”
“How romantic!” The receptionist’s face lit up. “Congratulations to the newlyweds!”
“Thank you,” Tonya quickly joined in. “We’ve been dreaming of peace and quiet…”
Aunt Nadya looked at them doubtfully, then suddenly clapped her hands:
“Nadyechka! Remember how you and your Vasya got married a second time too? After that fight with the neighbors…”
“Oh, don’t remind me!” Galina Stepanovna waved her off. “We didn’t speak for six months after that…”
“Mum, let’s not,” Aunt Nadya’s daughter tugged at her sleeve. “Let’s go look for rooms somewhere else…”
But then something unexpected happened. The oldest grandson—the same one who was always glued to his phone—decided to impress the receptionist. He sauntered over to the desk, leaned on it and said in his most seductive voice:
“Hey, gorgeous, maybe you can find us a spot? I’ll make it worth your while later…”
The girl gave him a withering look.
“Young man, don’t try to sweet-talk me. We have no free rooms.”
“Oh, come on!” He tried to wink at her, but it came out crooked. “I’m not some loser… I’ve got cash!”
And then he decided to prove it. He pulled a crumpled thousand-ruble note out of his pocket and tossed it casually onto the counter.
“Is that enough?”
The receptionist looked at the money, then at him.
“Enough for what? For ice cream?”
“What do you mean, ice cream?” the guy was stunned. “That’s a thousand!”
“Young man,” the girl patiently explained, “our cheapest room is five thousand per night. For one person.”
His face went slack. Aunt Nadya turned pale. Galina Stepanovna began frantically doing the math in her head.
“Five thousand per person?” she repeated weakly. “So for all of us… nine people… per day…”
“Forty-five thousand a day,” the receptionist confirmed. “Plus breakfast—one thousand per person. So fifty-four thousand a day in total.”
The silence that followed was so deep they could hear a TV being turned on in a nearby room.
“And for a week…” whispered Aunt Nadya’s daughter, fumbling for the calculator on her phone.
“Three hundred and seventy-eight thousand,” the receptionist said briskly. “Plus taxes…”
Aunt Nadya swayed and grabbed the back of the armchair. Galina Stepanovna sat down right on a suitcase.
“Maybe there’s something cheaper?” Aunt Nadya’s daughter asked plaintively. “A hostel or something?”
“The nearest hostel is two hundred kilometers from here,” the receptionist said. “And they’re fully booked too. It’s high season.”
The youngest grandson started to whine:
“Grandma, why can’t we stay with Uncle Syoma?”
“Because Uncle Syoma is on his honeymoon!” roared Galina Stepanovna.
“What’s a honeymoon?” the middle grandson asked.
“It’s when grown-ups want to be without kids!” explained the oldest, still not recovered from the financial shock.
The children looked at each other and burst into tears in unison.
Chaos erupted in the lobby. Aunt Nadya scurried between the suitcases, lamenting the money spent on the trip. Her daughter was calling everyone she could, trying to find at least some place to stay. The children demanded ice cream and the sea. And Galina Stepanovna sat on the suitcase, breathing heavily.
“Mum, do you want some water?” Semyon asked, worried.
“I’m not your mother!” she glared at him. “You’ve driven your mother to a heart attack!”
“Galina Stepanovna,” Tonya crouched down beside her, “maybe it really would be better if you went home? You’ll rest at the dacha, in peace and quiet…”
“What dacha?” sobbed Aunt Nadya. “We sold the dacha to come here!”
“You did what?” Semyon gasped.
“What did you think?” snapped Galina Stepanovna. “What else were we supposed to travel on? We thought you’d support us!”
Tonya and Semyon exchanged a look. The situation was becoming more and more absurd.
At that moment a man in an expensive suit walked up to the desk.
“Excuse me, what’s going on here? My room is right above the lobby and there’s so much noise…”
“I’m very sorry,” the receptionist flustered. “We’ll sort it out right away…”
“By any chance, would you like to switch to a cheaper room?” Aunt Nadya’s daughter suddenly piped up. “We’ve got this… situation…”
The man cast a glance over their group—disheveled Galina Stepanovna perched on a suitcase, weeping Aunt Nadya, screaming kids—and quickly backed away.
“No, no, thank you, everything’s fine…”
“Maybe you could let us stay with you?” she wouldn’t give up. “We’d be ever so quiet, just to sleep…”
“Daughter!” hissed Aunt Nadya. “What are you saying!”
But it was too late. The security guard was already heading over, looking very serious.
“That’s it,” said Semyon. “The circus is over. Mum, get a taxi and go to the station. You too, Aunt Nadya.”
“And the money for the tickets?” Aunt Nadya asked pitifully.
Semyon took out his wallet and counted out several bills.
“This will cover your tickets. Goodbye.”
“Syoma,” Galina Stepanovna got up from the suitcase, “you’re not really going to throw your own mother out, are you?”
“I’m not throwing you out. I’m seeing you off,” he said firmly. “With love—but I’m seeing you off.”
Half an hour later the hotel lobby was quiet again. The relatives had gone to the train station—unhappy, but beaten by economic reality.
And Semyon and Tonya went back to the beach.
“You know,” Tonya said, settling into her lounger, “now I understand why paid vacations exist.”
“How’s that?” Semyon was rubbing on sunscreen.
“As a natural defense against relatives. Better than any fence.”
They laughed, and their laughter carried over the sea, light and free.
And on the train that three hours later was taking the uninvited guests home, Aunt Nadya was complaining to fellow passengers:
“Can you imagine what people are like nowadays! They won’t take in their own relatives! And we came with such love…”
The fellow passengers nodded sympathetically, not knowing that the day before this same “loving” relative had demanded her nephew pay for a half-million-ruble vacation.
And Semyon and Tonya spent the rest of their holiday exactly as they had dreamed—together, in peace and quiet. And when they came home, the first thing they did was change the locks on the door.
Just in case.