Alina moved her phone away from her ear and slammed it down onto the café table. Her face was flushed, and her fingers gripped her coffee cup tightly.
“Was it your mother-in-law again?” Darya asked, pushing her salad aside. “You look like you just got hit over the head!”
“Again. The fifth request this month. Tomorrow it’ll probably be the sixth,” Alina grimaced. “Lyubov Petrovna doesn’t even ask anymore. She just tells me what to do.”
“Why do you put up with it?” Darya snorted. “We have a simple rule at our house: my husband handles his mom, I handle mine. We only team up if there’s a real emergency—like a fire, a surgery, something big. Little things, everyone deals with their own.”
“It’s more complicated for me,” Alina shook her head. “Marat got me the job through a friend. My salary’s almost double his now. And my mother-in-law knows it. She thinks I owe her, not even Marat, but her. So she keeps asking for bits—one thousand, then two.”
“Well, I guess there’s some fairness in that,” Darya shrugged. “They did open the door for you.”
“They opened the door, but I walked through it myself!” Alina tapped her spoon on the saucer. “I’m a food certification specialist—I got moved to another department for my smarts after just six months, not because of Marat’s connections! And I have plans. I’m saving up. I’ll sell my two-room, add some money and buy a three-room closer to the park. We’ll have kids, sooner or later. Or should I just call those mother-in-law payments the nursery fund?”
“Then just tell her ‘no’,” Darya spread her hands.
“I will. I definitely will.”
That evening, Alina went straight to her husband, no beating around the bush. Marat, a test engineer, was hunched over his blueprints and looked up with annoyance.
“I appreciate you helping me get the job,” she began. “But that’s no reason for your mother to call every other day and demand money. Like clockwork.”
“Look, what she’s doing isn’t right, I admit it,” Marat put down his pencil. “I helped you out from the heart. I never thought it would come to this. But on the other hand… it’s just pennies compared to your salary. Why not help out?”
“Pennies?” Alina flared up. “It’s twelve thousand ‘pennies’ this month alone. If you’re so generous, you send her the money!”
“My salary’s less than yours, you know that.”
“Exactly. And she knows it too. That’s why she calls me and not you!”
The next day, Alina’s phone lit up at lunchtime. She glanced at the screen and frowned.
“Alinochka, send me three thousand,” Lyubov Petrovna’s voice was syrupy sweet. “The utilities just went up.”
Without a word, Alina opened her banking app and transferred the money. She didn’t say anything. She hung up with such anger that a coworker turned to look.
At that moment, Lyubov Petrovna was sitting in a café with her longtime friend Galina. Seeing the payment notification, she nodded with satisfaction.
“See? Works like clockwork,” she twirled her phone. “My daughter-in-law got her job thanks to my son, so she can pay up. If she stops, she’ll get fired. My son’s friends with management.”
“Come on, Lyuba,” Galina choked on her tea. “What do you mean ‘fired’? Why get revenge? The most important thing is for your boy to be happy.”
“I don’t mind if it’s all good,” Lyubov Petrovna waved her hand. “But let her help me out. I raised my son, I earned this.”
“You raised him, but now a stranger’s daughter is footing the bill? That’s some strange math.”
“Nothing strange about it,” the mother-in-law shot back. “My grown daughter got married and takes care of her husband. Here, let the daughter-in-law repay her debt.”
A few days later, Lyubov Petrovna’s phone rang—her daughter Polina announced she’d be visiting with her son for the weekend. The mother-in-law was delighted and immediately called Alina.
“Polina’s coming, join us for some shopping,” she said in a tone that made it clear there was no room for refusal.
Alina just shrugged. She was planning to visit the shopping center herself anyway.
In the supermarket, Lyubov Petrovna got carried away, piling cheeses, crab sticks, cakes, and expensive creams into her cart. She then turned to give her daughter advice:
“Polinochka, get whatever you want for yourself and the little one. Clothes, toys—don’t be shy.”
“Mom, are you serious?” Polina raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You never even bought me socks before.”
“Go ahead, go ahead, mother says so!”
Thinking her mom wanted to treat her for once, Polina added a jacket for her child, a dress and shoes for herself, and a cosmetics set to the cart. The cart was overflowing before their eyes.
Alina was the first to approach the cashier, paid for her modest purchases, and stepped aside. Then Lyubov Petrovna turned to her:
“So, will you transfer the money? Or should I call your husband?” the mother-in-law smirked.
“Transfer what?” Alina was confused.
“Pay for our carts. Both of them. You have a good salary—you won’t go broke.”
“Mom, I’m not doing this, I’ll just put everything back,” Polina turned pale and began to take things out.
“Stop right there!” The mother-in-law grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Don’t put anything back. Alina, give me the money. Or I’m calling Marat right now,” she said, brandishing her phone dramatically.
But Alina was faster. Her own phone was already pressed to her ear.
“Marat? Listen closely. From this day on, I’m not giving your mother a single penny. Not one. She’s here at the register pointing at 75,000. That’s it—conversation over.”
On the other end, Marat only figured out that some kind of scandal was brewing—he didn’t get a word in. Beep. Call ended.
Lyubov Petrovna stood there red as a boiled lobster, phone still stretched out. Alina turned and headed for the exit, leaving her mother-in-law with two overflowing carts.
That evening, Marat stormed into the house, slamming the door.
“What happened? My mother told me her side—I want to hear yours now!”
“Mine?” Alina flared up. “Your mother invited me shopping since Polina was here. Then at the checkout, she insisted I pay for their stuff. That’s the whole story!”
“So you could’ve paid—what’s the big deal?” Marat shrugged. “It would’ve pleased Polina, pleased Mom…”
“Seventy-five thousand, Marat! Seventy-five!” Alina jabbed a finger his way. “Are you ready to reimburse me that amount? Right now?”
Marat froze. Not a thousand. Not two. His entire monthly paycheck—gone in one shopping trip.
“I… I didn’t know that,” he stammered.
“Well, now you do. And remember: I’m not giving your mother anything else. If you want—support her with your own money. But don’t forget: you have responsibilities to our family. If you won’t step up, it makes me wonder why we’re even doing this.”
Marat raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
“Okay, okay. I don’t even know why mom insisted so much. But you could’ve tried to meet her halfway too… I would’ve closed this gap eventually.”
“Gap?” Alina smirked. “The gap your mother keeps digging?”
Suddenly Marat’s phone started blaring. It was ‘Mom.’ He stepped out into the hallway.
“Maratik! I was humiliated in front of everyone!” his mother’s voice screamed from the phone. “Call your friend and make sure that insolent woman gets fired! Today!”
“Mom, are you out of your mind, seventy-five thousand…”
“Fire her, I said!”
Back in the kitchen, Alina couldn’t make out the words—only the agitated tone of her husband. Then dial tones. Marat stood there, gripping his phone, burned by a thought: she really did act badly. He was the one who got her that job. He dialed his friend.
“Hey, can you fire my wife? Payback’s a must, after all.”
“Are you serious?” his friend replied in surprise. “Alina hasn’t been in my department for ages. She was transferred to another one with a promotion. I have no power there, she’s got a new boss now.”
Marat turned around—and froze. Alina was standing in the doorway. She had heard everything.
“You… asked him to fire me,” her voice trembled with anger. “You bastard!”
The slap sounded like a gunshot.
“Instead of protecting me from your brazen, greedy mother, you decided to finish me off! Fire me! That’s your gratitude!”
“Alina, I was emotional, what I did was terrible, I’m sorry…” Marat grabbed his cheek.
“You know what I’m going to do? I’m firing. Not myself—YOU. I’m firing my husband who’s switched sides to the enemy. Yes, the enemy! What else do you call your mother’s behavior—taking money from her daughter-in-law, not her own son!”
“Don’t say that, our marriage will fall apart…”
“Then listen to my terms.” Alina folded her arms. “I’ve added up everything I gave your mother. Thirty-eight thousand. Until that amount is in my account, you’re not coming home. Give up your key, pack your basics, and go to your mother’s. Think about what you’ve done.”
“Are you serious?! I’m not apologizing under these conditions!”
“I’m not accepting any apologies. Only the money. You already committed a vile act, and I won’t forget it. And just for the record—I advanced at work not because of your friend, but because of my skills. I’m grateful to both of you for the start. But from now on, it’s my head, not your connections, that move me forward.”
Marat was silent. He had no idea how much his wife made now. One thing was clear: she’d be just fine without him. But him? He’d end up stuck in the swamp with his mother.
“Give me until morning. I’ll transfer it then.”
Late that night, the phone rang again. Marat answered with a raspy voice.
“Son, remind your wife she needs to transfer me fifty thousand,” Lyubov Petrovna’s voice demanded. “She owes me for the humiliation.”
“From this moment on, my wife won’t give you a single penny! Not a single penny, you hear me?!” Marat exploded and hung up. He was disgusted that it had all come to this. He could have stopped his mother long ago. He really could. But he didn’t.