— “Mom, I’m not alone!” — Oleg declared as soon as he stepped over the threshold.
An elderly woman in a housecoat entered the corridor. First, she saw her son, and then behind him, a girl holding a cake in her hand.
— “Wow, we have guests,” she said in surprise, and looked more closely at the girl.
— “Mom, this is Irina,” the young man said, stepping aside to look at the girl.
— “Hello,” she replied, smiling.
— “Come in, what’s the occasion?” the woman asked curiously, wiping her hands on a towel.
— “All in good time, mom, let’s have some tea first.”
Tamara Ivanovna immediately figured it out — after all, her son was already grown, graduated from university, and started working, it was time for him to settle down. But there was still some doubt — he was too indecisive for her.
Igor Leonidovich came out of the bedroom in his worn, clearly stretched-out home pants.
— “Go change,” Tamara Ivanovna said to him, turning her husband around and sending him back to the bedroom.
— “What’s all the fuss about?” he asked his wife.
— “Our son will explain,” she replied, returning to the kitchen.
In the light and spacious kitchen, with geraniums on the windowsill, the young man had already turned on the kettle and opened the cupboard, pulling out cups. The girl smiled mysteriously. Tamara Ivanovna took out the saucers, placed spoons on the table, and handed her son a knife to cut the cake.
— “So, what’s the occasion?”
— “Wait a minute, mom, dad will come in a second, and then I’ll tell you everything.”
A minute later, Igor Leonidovich appeared. He immediately noticed the girl, who smiled at him and then quickly lowered her gaze.
— “Well, well,” the host said, sitting down at the head of the table, waiting for his son to speak.
Tamara Ivanovna poured tea, and Oleg served the cake.
— “Come on, don’t keep us in suspense,” Igor Leonidovich said directly to his son.
— “Mom, dad,” Oleg said too solemnly, waited for a second, and added, “We want to get married.”
— “Oh, wow!” Igor Leonidovich exclaimed loudly.
Tamara Ivanovna hugged her son and, like a loving mother, kissed him on the top of his head.
— “Well, that’s good,” she said, addressing both her son and Irina immediately.
— “To be honest, mom, we’ve already submitted the application,” the young man said, and the girl immediately giggled.
— “And for what date?” asked the mother, meaning the registration date.
— “In a month, as is proper.”
— “Oh,” the housekeeper sighed involuntarily. She knew very well how expensive a wedding would be, remembering how she spent almost a whole year paying off the loans for her daughter’s wedding.
— “Let’s not make it grand, let it be modest,” the young man immediately said.
— “Well, we’ll discuss that,” Igor Leonidovich declared. “So, daughter-in-law,” he said, looking carefully at Irina, who turned red and, lowering her eyes, involuntarily nodded, as if confirming: yes, now I’m the bride.
— “After the wedding, mom, I’ll move out,” Oleg declared decisively.
— “Why?” the father immediately asked. “Why move out? You have a room.”
— “Well, why?” Oleg said, somewhat puzzled, looking at Irina.
— “We have a three-room apartment, your sister got married, your room is free, so live here, why waste money on renting a place? But think about it: a simple one-room apartment with bare walls costs about 25 thousand, and if you buy a sofa, table, chair, and wardrobe — that’s nearly 100 thousand. And if the kitchen has nothing, not even a stove, that’s another 100 or 200 thousand,” the father said thoughtfully.
— “I didn’t think about that,” the young man said thoughtfully, looking at his wife as if waiting for her verdict.
— “Of course, live here!” Tamara Ivanovna immediately replied. “I won’t interfere in your affairs, just keep things in order, and that’s all.”
— “Mom,” Oleg said uncertainly, “mom, we’ll think about it, okay?”
— “There’s time,” Tamara Ivanovna said, not trying to convince him. “But still, it’s better for you to live with us at first, and when you get a good salary, if you decide, you can move out.”
And that’s how it was decided.
In the evening, Oleg went to see Irina home.
— “So, how do you like my relatives?” he asked curiously.
— “They’re nice,” Irina immediately replied and smiled. “They’re kind.”
— “Dad’s okay, doesn’t drink, doesn’t argue, mom’s good, not a pain like some others.”
— “Yeah, looks like it,” Irina agreed with him.
— “What do you think of my father’s proposal?”
— “I don’t know,” Irina hesitated. “Of course, it’s a huge saving. I haven’t finished university yet, and even if I do, it’ll take time to find a job and start earning money, but…”
— “So, it’s decided then — we’ll live with my parents for now.” Irina still hesitated. “Your mom and I…”
— “Let’s do this: if there’s a conflict, well, if mom starts giving you a hard time, just whistle, and we’ll move out right away,” Oleg said, hugging his fiancée, showing that he would protect her.
— “Okay,” the girl immediately agreed. “But you promise me: if anything, we leave immediately?”
— “I promise,” the young man replied, kissing Irina on the forehead.
The wedding, as Oleg and Irina had asked, was small — only close friends and family gathered.
Irina, in her wedding dress, entered the bedroom, and Oleg followed her, closing the door behind him.
Her father-in-law stood in the middle of the room for a few minutes, staring at the closed door where the newlyweds had disappeared.
— “Go, don’t hover,” Tamara Ivanovna said to him, gently pushing him.
The man, as if waking up from his thoughts, grunted and shuffled to his bedroom.
It had already gotten dark. Tamara Ivanovna made up her bed, her husband lay down, staring at the ceiling, and then listened — rhythmic sounds came from the wall.
— “It’s a young thing,” Tamara Ivanovna whispered and, turning off the light, lay down in bed.
Her husband sighed heavily and turned his back on her.
By habit, Igor Leonidovich woke up early. It was his day off, he went to the kitchen, turned on the kettle, and made himself a sandwich. A couple of hours later, the bedroom door of the newlyweds opened, and Oleg, as if on reconnaissance, came out first. He walked through the hall, went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, greeted his dad, and returned. A minute later, Irina appeared in her pink robe. Seeing her, Igor Leonidovich involuntarily smiled.
— “So, should we expect grandchildren soon?” he joked, asking his daughter-in-law.
The girl immediately blushed, shrugged her shoulders, and went to the bathroom.
— “Don’t get into other people’s business,” Tamara Ivanovna muttered at him.
— “I was just asking,” he answered in defense, and took a sip of his beer.
— “Don’t meddle,” she said again sternly, opening the fridge to get some food to make breakfast.
Irina was worried about how she would get along with her mother-in-law, but it turned out it wasn’t so bad: Tamara Ivanovna didn’t meddle in her business, didn’t tell her what to do, and certainly didn’t enter their bedroom.
One evening, the housewife went to the bathroom and found her husband there, something falling from his hands. He bent down to pick it up. Tamara Ivanovna approached and took a pair of pink panties from his hands.
— “Why did you pick these up?” she asked sternly, smoothing them out and carefully hanging them on the radiator.
— “They fell,” he lied clearly. “What are they doing here?” he asked, glancing at the lace panties.
— “Drying, just like mine did.”
Igor Leonidovich snorted; he felt awkward, as if caught red-handed. His face turned red, and he walked to the sink, turned on the water, and wet his hands.
— “Why don’t you have any, you know, lace ones?” he asked awkwardly.
Tamara Ivanovna looked at the drying line, nodded at it, and asked:
— “I don’t see your boxers, just the regular family ones.”
— “They’re more comfortable,” Igor Leonidovich immediately replied.
— “Exactly,” she said to him and added, “And don’t touch them again.”
Clearly displeased, the man left the bathroom, muttering something as he went to his bedroom.
“When was the last time we were intimate?” Tamara Ivanovna asked herself quietly at the bathroom door. Work and the routine of family life had taken it all away, though she was happy to have raised two children. But with her husband, everything had become ordinary. “Probably three months ago,” she answered herself, thinking back. She no longer had any desire to cuddle up to him, kiss him, or even think of anything more intimate.
— “I must be getting old,” she said quietly aloud, opening the washing machine lid and starting to load the laundry.
Closer to the evening, Oleg came with Irina, who was still studying at university and was working on her thesis. The girl changed and immediately went to the kitchen to help her mother-in-law.
— “How can I help?” the girl asked, putting on an apron.
— “What can you do?”
— “Honestly, not much: fry potatoes, make scrambled eggs, just small things,” Irina replied shyly.
— “Okay, then today I’ll teach you how to make gravy.”
— “Oh!” Irina replied, as if frightened.
— “It seems scary, but cooking isn’t hard. So, here’s the frying pan, pour some oil, set the temperature to three. Here’s the carrot, peel it, chop it into small pieces, then here’s the onion.”
Tamara Ivanovna watched as her daughter-in-law worked. She chopped the carrot, placed it in the frying pan, and started stirring.
About five minutes later, Igor Leonidovich came into the kitchen, hugged his wife, as he always did, and immediately asked:
— “What are we cooking?”
— “She’s teaching me how to make gravy!” Irina immediately said.
The man’s hand immediately went around the girl’s waist, and she, not paying attention, continued to stir the bubbling gravy on the stove.
Tamara Ivanovna stepped aside, opened the fridge, and immediately noticed her husband’s hand on his daughter-in-law’s waist.
— “Cut the bread,” she asked her husband, who clearly didn’t like being distracted. He grabbed a cutting board, a knife, and approached the kitchen table.
On Fridays, Igor Leonidovich liked to relax: he bought 3 or 4 bottles of beer, sat in front of the TV, and started watching one movie after another. However, sometimes it didn’t matter what was on the screen, as long as he was relaxing.
The room was small, and the TV was literally a couple of meters from the newlyweds’ bedroom door. Irina came out, and to keep the conversation going, she asked:
— “What movie is this?”
— “‘Avatar,’ I’m watching it for the third time,” the man said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his beer and setting the glass on the nightstand.
— “I’ve seen it too, but I think the main character is wrong. Everyone thinks he’s the good guy, but in reality, he’s the bad one.”
— “Really?” Igor Leonidovich asked in surprise.
— “Yes, because he started the war. People came, the planet is huge, they started extracting resources, but instead of negotiating, he started a war.”
— “But he was protecting his blue monkeys!”
— “Yes, but still, he started the war.”
The man’s hand touched the woman’s leg and slowly moved upward. Irina immediately felt it, so she stepped aside. Her face turned red.
— “I’ll go get ready,” the girl said shyly and closed the door behind her.
— “What do you think, who’s to blame in all this?” Igor Leonidovich asked his wife, referring to the movie.
— “Don’t distract the girl while she’s getting ready,” his wife said sternly.
— “I’m not distracting her,” he answered and took a sip of his beer.
A few days later, Tamara Ivanovna came home a little earlier and was surprised to find her husband already there.
— “What happened?” she asked, worried, as she entered the living room.
The housewife noticed the bedroom door of the newlyweds was carefully closed.
— “They sent him home,” her husband replied briefly.
— “Bring the bags, they’re in the hall with me.”
The man got up from the couch and went to fulfill his wife’s request.
— “And I forgot to buy milk and bread, could you go to the store?”
Clearly displeased by such a request, Igor Leonidovich, after taking the bags to the kitchen, went to get dressed. A couple of minutes later, he left.
Tamara Ivanovna changed and went to her son’s bedroom door, quietly knocking:
— “Irina, could you help me with dinner?”
She didn’t wait for an answer and went to the kitchen herself, unpacked the groceries she bought, took out the pot, filled it with water, and turned on the stove.
Her daughter-in-law entered the kitchen. The woman turned her head and noticed the girl’s eyes were red. She didn’t ask what had happened but instead asked her to peel the potatoes and put them in the pot.
In the evening, after dinner, Tamara Ivanovna noticed how Irina was avoiding her husband.
The newlyweds disappeared into their room, and Igor Leonidovich, turning on the TV, was about to sit in his chair when Tamara Ivanovna called him.
— “Come here,” she called quietly.
The man put the remote aside and went to the kitchen. When he entered, his wife closed the door behind him.
— “Sit down.”
— “What did you want?” the man asked.
— “Our daughter is grown up and living with her husband.”
— “Yeah,” Igor Leonidovich reluctantly agreed with her.
— “And now our son has grown up, he’s married, soon there will be children.”
— “Yeah,” he replied ambiguously.
— “I’m asking you to take half a day off tomorrow.”
— “Why?” came the short question.
— “We’re going to the court to file for a divorce.”
Igor Leonidovich slowly lifted his head and looked at his wife. His face first turned pale, then red, and then pale again.
— “You’re going on about this again!” he growled.
Tamara Ivanovna’s children didn’t know that she had filed for divorce twice already, for reasons of her own, but each time her husband convinced her to withdraw the petition, and she agreed. But now, when the children had grown up, she decided to see it through to the end.
— “Your male instincts have woken up again,” she said coldly.
— “Everything seems to you to be my male instincts!” he replied angrily.
— “Irina’s already afraid of you, so tomorrow we’ll go to court to file.”
— “Stop it!” Igor Leonidovich growled.
— “I’ll change the lock on the door tomorrow. This apartment belongs to my parents, it’s not yours, and you won’t get into the house without me, understood?”
— “You’re crazy!” Igor Leonidovich got angry; he didn’t think his wife would bring up the divorce topic again.
— “If you don’t come to the court, I’ll file on my own. If you don’t come to the session, sooner or later we’ll be divorced. The children are grown, alimony is no longer needed, the apartment belongs to my parents, you have no place in this house.”
— “So, that’s how it is,” Igor Leonidovich said coldly. “You’ve used me, and now you’re kicking me out?”
— “You’re to blame,” Tamara Ivanovna said as calmly as possible. “I’m going to court tomorrow.”
The man suddenly stood up, looked at his wife one last time, and then strode to the bedroom.
A few days later, Tamara Ivanovna, as usual, was making dinner, and Irina was helping her. Oleg entered the kitchen.
— “Where’s dad?” he asked his mother.
— “He won’t be back,” she replied and, turning, added, “He moved out.”
Hearing this, the daughter-in-law tensed, put down the knife she had been using to cut meat, and looked at her mother-in-law attentively.
— “What do you mean, moved out?” her son asked.
— “We got divorced,” the woman added. A faint smile appeared on Irina’s face.
Tamara Ivanovna turned away from her son and gently stroked Irina’s hand.
— “You’re safe now,” she said, her words intended only for her daughter-in-law.
Irina looked up, smiled at her mother-in-law, and quietly said:
— “Thank you.”
— “What’s going on? Do you have secrets?” Oleg asked, approaching his wife. Irina immediately turned and hugged her husband.
— “Women always have secrets,” Tamara Ivanovna said and winked at her son.