Get out,” Tatiana Petrovna said, pressing her lips together, then spat after me.
“If you leave now with the children, I won’t take you back,” Tatiana Petrovna shrieked. “Just so you know: I’ll leave the apartment to an animal shelter!”
“Do whatever you want,” I replied wearily. “But we won’t stay here another second.”
My world collapsed in an instant. Just yesterday, my husband Alexey and I, along with our three children, were planning our vacation and rejoicing that we had finally saved enough for a down payment on a mortgage, ready to leave our rented apartment.
And today, the world lost its colors, its smells, and shrank to the size of a room with faded wallpaper. Joy and the will to live drained from me in a thin trickle, and every morning began with the question: “Why did I wake up in this world?” Only one thing kept me going: our three children.
“Mama, how are we going to live without… daddy?” my eldest son, Miron, whispered.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” a storm raged inside me, tears ready to burst through. “But we have each other — we will manage.”
“And how are we going to tell Nastya that Daddy is gone?”
“I don’t know…” Miron and Sveta, my older two, already knew the tragedy. Nastya was only four years old, Daddy’s little princess. We were afraid to tell her.
I turned back to face the wall. Right at eye level, there was a heart drawn on the wallpaper. “I love Liza,” said the inscription below it. When we had first rented the apartment, Alexey had drawn it, saying it would always remind me he was there. I cried again, then fell back asleep — living with such pain was unbearable.
“Liza, I was thinking… maybe you and the kids could move in with me?” Tatiana Petrovna, Alexey’s mother, suggested on the ninth day.
“Alright,” I said. Honestly, I didn’t care anymore.
“We’ll be good together,” said Tatiana Petrovna, hugging me for the first time in our twelve years of knowing each other.
Back then, it felt like I had someone to share my grief with. Tatiana Petrovna had lost her son, I had lost my husband. Lesha was a wonderful, caring, responsible man who could turn any trouble into a joke. I hadn’t been close to Tatiana Petrovna before — she preferred not to meddle. We used to see each other just a few times a year. I didn’t know how living together would turn out. I simply cut out the piece of wallpaper with the heart — and moved in with her.
At first, everything was fine. Tatiana Petrovna lived alone in a four-room apartment. She gave us two small bedrooms: one for Miron and Sveta, and one for Nastya and me.
Before, we had rented a place in an old building, where the owners didn’t allow us to change anything, not even bring our own furniture. But here, with my mother-in-law, we finally had a little space of our own.
“Liza, I took the liberty of furnishing your rooms. Do you like it?” she asked, looking at us anxiously.
“Yes, we love it!” Miron immediately claimed the top bunk of the new bunk bed.
“These shelves are mine, and those are yours,” Sveta declared, opening the wardrobe.
Tatiana Petrovna smiled happily. In my room with Nastya, there was a sofa, a dresser, and a computer desk — she knew I was tutoring online. I had taken on more students now, and all that money went toward food.
“Thank you so much,” I smiled for the first time in days, and the world stopped collapsing.
“Don’t mention it — we’re family,” she replied with a smile.
“I know we’ve invaded your space and disrupted your life. Please tell me the house rules.”
“Oh, Liza, I knew twelve years ago you’d be a wonderful wife,” said Tatiana Petrovna, tears welling in her eyes.
The rules were simple: morning exercise was mandatory, followed by breakfast. In summer, after breakfast, the kids could play for a couple of hours, then study to avoid forgetting what they learned in school. Tatiana Petrovna even bought them educational books! After lunch, she napped, so the kids had to be quiet. Everything had to be in its place.
“Liza, why didn’t you put the vegetable oil in the fridge?” The complaints started exactly two weeks after we moved in.
“I forgot — at home, we didn’t do that.”
“In my house, vegetable oil is kept in the fridge.”
Next, she scolded us about morning exercise. The kids were lazy about it but made up for it with sports classes. Tatiana Petrovna, a health fanatic, jogged daily regardless of the weather, finishing at an outdoor gym.
“Mama, I don’t mind jogging,” Miron said sadly. “Just… not at six in the morning.”
“Sweetheart, I understand, but this is Tatiana Petrovna’s house, and we have to respect her rules.”
“Even the dumb ones?”
“Give me some time, my love. I’ll get back on my feet, find a job, and we’ll have our own place.”
We couldn’t afford to move. I hadn’t worked much after university — just two years before having Miron, then Sveta, then Nastya. Tutoring barely covered basic expenses. My parents lived seven hours away by car, along with my older brother.
“Liza, you’ve become so lazy! It’s autumn and you only mop the floors once a day!” Tatiana Petrovna fumed. “Your kids dragged dirt everywhere!”
“I cleaned the floors — and the shoes — after your morning jog,” I tried to defend myself.
“Then you must be incompetent,” she snapped.
At lunch, more accusations followed.
“Liza, you oversalted the soup again!” she barked — though in reality, I had under-salted it and everyone had added salt at the table.
“Tatiana Petrovna, today I deliberately under-salted…”
“Liar!” she shouted. “It must have been your brats sneaking salt into my bowl!”
Miron and Sveta’s eyes widened in shock. Nastya even asked:
“Mama, why is grandma lying?”
“Me? Lying?! After everything I’ve done for you!”
“But we didn’t do anything,” Miron protested.
“Liars! If you don’t like living here, get out!”
Sveta started crying — she’s very sensitive. Miron hugged her and took her to their room.
“Falling onto my head like this,” grumbled Tatiana Petrovna. “I do everything for them, and they repay me with spite!”
“Tatiana Petrovna, my children are well-behaved, kind, and honest. You’re being unfair!”
“You’re one to talk! A cuckoo mother who dumped her brood on me and now wants to kick me out of my own apartment.”
“Me?!”
“Yes! You make the kids play on the floor to catch a cold — then you’ll blame me and my morning jogs!”
“I never even thought of that!”
“Oh really? Then why is my food always over-salted?”
“I truly don’t understand what you mean.”
It only got worse. No matter what I did, it was wrong. She insulted me in front of the kids. Having barely survived the trauma of losing Alexey, we now faced an even bigger psychological assault.
Nastya needed diapers again at night — after a full year without accidents. She hid behind the couch, whispering to her dolls about the witch who yelled at her. Sveta and Miron’s grades dropped. Tatiana Petrovna barged into their room, starting fights.
Her imagination seemed limitless.
“You’re trying to kick me out of my own apartment!”
She screamed this if a cup was left even slightly out of place.
“You’re poisoning me!” — when Sveta once sprayed herself with children’s perfume.
“You’re freeloading off me!” — even though I spent all my tutoring income buying groceries for everyone. I often skipped meals myself to make sure the kids were fed. Tatiana Petrovna paid for utilities, bought treats for herself, and ate them in front of us.
“Lazy! Always sitting at the computer! Can’t even clean properly!”
Every day, I spent two hours cleaning, not because the kids were messy, but because Tatiana Petrovna never cleaned after herself — ate on the living room couch, wore shoes indoors — yet constantly complained.
“My son married such a dud. Lazy, ugly, argumentative — she drove Alexey to his grave!”
Once, I overheard her complaining to someone on the phone:
“Oh, she showed up, finally. Half a year, and already scheming. No shame.”
I locked myself in the room and called my friend Nadia. She had moved back to our hometown after university and worked at a local school.
“Lizochka, hi, sweetheart. How are you?”
“Nadia, everything’s awful… Without Alexey, life is unbearable, and now my mother-in-law is making it worse. I have nowhere to go…”
“Liza, come to me. Our school just lost the English teacher — quit mid-term.”
“Who would hire me? I barely worked!”
“They will! The principal and headteacher are amazing people. They’ll help. Plus, there’s staff housing. It’s quiet, peaceful — you’ll love it. You’re already tutoring — you haven’t forgotten. So, will you come?”
“I don’t know…”
Leaving the big city for a village was terrifying. I was still deeply grieving the loss of Alexey, and now the thought of losing my familiar surroundings, pulling the kids out of school mid-term, and moving into the unknown loomed over me.
“Liza!” my mother-in-law screeched from the kitchen. “Where have you been all day?! I’m starving and there’s not even a hint of lunch! You barged into my life like a curse! And who gave you permission to eat my sausage?!”
That was the last straw.
“Nadya, give me the phone number for the principal or the head teacher…”
“Lizok, wait, I’ll put it on speaker!”
“Liza, hello, I’m Ekaterina Ivanovna, the school principal. Nadyezhda Leonidovna told me about you. I know you haven’t worked at a school for long. Don’t worry, next year we’ll promote you, and this year I’ll find a way to give you extra pay. Just come!” The principal’s voice was gentle, almost motherly.
“Alright…”
“We have a service car. Tomorrow morning, the driver will be in your city. He can pick you up around three o’clock. Will you be ready?”
“Yes, of course!”
Honestly, I was relieved that someone else was solving the problem of the move. And surprisingly, we didn’t have that many things to pack.
At the school where Miron and Sveta studied, people were first surprised by my decision, but then explained how and when I could collect the children’s documents. Miron’s teacher was upset, calling him her “precious treasure,” and lamented that he was leaving.
Less than a day after that phone call, I was loading our things into the car. When my mother-in-law found out I was leaving, she spewed venom, hurling such insults that my ears burned with shame.
“Know this, traitor! If you step out that door, I’ll never take you back! And don’t you dare ask me for help with the grandchildren!”
Ha! As if I had ever asked her for anything! When Miron was born, I had tried a couple of times to ask Tatyana Petrovna to babysit, but she bluntly said she wasn’t hired to be a nanny.
“And the apartment… Just so you know, I’ll leave it to an animal shelter in my will!”
“Do whatever you want,” I replied wearily. “But we are not staying here a second longer.”
The kids gleefully carried their school bags full of books and notebooks to the car. I grabbed the last bag, glanced around the apartment where we had spent four miserable months, and said goodbye to my mother-in-law.
“Get out,” Tatyana Petrovna sneered and then spit after me.
“Liza! You’re here! Hooray!” Nadya was practically bouncing with joy. “Yesterday my colleagues and I cleaned your apartment—washed the floors, wiped the dust… There are boxes there—take whatever you need. It’ll be enough for now. About the furniture… sorry, but it’ll take about a month to help with that.”
We were given a three-room apartment in a small panel building shared by four families. Furniture-wise, there were two very worn sofas, an old wardrobe, a dining table, a kitchen counter, and a refrigerator that looked older than me.
In the boxes we found a single-burner electric stove, an electric kettle, some dishes, curtains, and bedding. They also left me a brand-new pearly-pink bucket, a mop, and a beautiful desk lamp. The apartment literally sparkled with cleanliness—even the windows!
“Mom, at least here no one will scold us over a piece of bread, right?” Sveta said, glancing around.
“My darling, I just worry whether you’ll be able to make new friends.”
“Of course we will!” Miron answered confidently. “It’s not the middle of nowhere—the school’s huge!”
That same day, I submitted the kids’ documents to their new school. With the weekend ahead, I had a couple of days to study the curriculum and refresh my teaching methods.
“Mom, let’s do a fortune-telling game tonight!” Sveta suggested.
“How does it work?”
“You put a comb under your pillow and say, ‘On a new place, may the bride dream of her groom!’”
“I’m a mother of three, what bride are you talking about?” I laughed.
“Come on! And in the morning, tell us who you dreamed about!”
The night was rough—it’s always hard for me to sleep in a new place. At first, I dreamt of Alexey. We were walking through a meadow, and I could literally smell the grass.
“Lizonka, my dear. Forgive me for leaving so soon. I’ll always try to be near you, to support you, to help you.”
“Lyoshka, I miss you so much… I don’t know if I’ll ever be that happy again…”
“Of course you will! You’ve come exactly to the place where happiness awaits. Look!” Alexey pointed off somewhere, but there was nothing there.
“Where?” I turned to him. His hand was still warm in mine, but he himself faded away like mist.
Then, in my dream, another man approached me. Tall, with reddish hair and eyes the color of fallen autumn leaves. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and said:
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
Thunder roared, rain poured down, and the man threw a jacket over my shoulders.
The thunder woke me—the storm was real, raging outside. I closed the window and saw Sveta was also awake.
“Did you dream too?” I asked.
“Yes, about Dad. We were walking through a field, and he introduced me to Maxim.”
“Maxim? Who’s that?”
“A boy. He’s a year older than me. Redhead.”
“You know him?”
“Not yet,” Sveta shrugged.
On Monday, I began teaching. My first class was Miron’s. And wouldn’t you know it—his desk neighbor’s name was Maxim, and he was a redhead!
While I was still marveling at the coincidence, the first lesson ended. During the break, Ekaterina Ivanovna approached me with a smile.
“Nadyezhda Leonidovna was right! You are a talented teacher! I stopped by your classroom several times. I’m sure we’ll work well together!”
The term was coming to an end. I invited “my” parents (I was made homeroom teacher of Miron’s class) to a meeting. I was nervous. As parents came in and introduced themselves, I struggled to hide my surprise: among them was the man from my dream. He stared at me just as intently.
“I’m Dmitry, Maxim Lukyanov’s father. I’m a single dad—lost my wife a few months ago. So please, don’t be too hard on Max…”
“I understand. I also lost my husband this past summer…”
“If you ever need help—please reach out. We’re neighbors after all,” Dmitry smiled.
And indeed, he became my greatest helper. Hanging shelves, fixing desks, organizing a class picnic—Dmitry was always there. Even when my kitchen faucet broke, he came running with his tools and fixed everything. He never asked for anything in return, not even flirted!
“Mom, Max and I are going sledding!” Time flew by, and my older kids quickly made friends. Sveta found a true companion in redheaded Max Lukyanov, and she, Miron, and Max were inseparable.
“Be careful!” I called out, more out of habit than worry. Max was just as reliable as his father.
Three hours later, I felt a pang of anxiety. I called the kids, but no one answered. Dark thoughts spun through my head. Finally, one of Miron’s classmates picked up.
“Ms. Liza, we were sledding, and then Miron, Max, and Sveta went to the lake. But that was a while ago.”
“When?!”
“About an hour and a half ago…”
The lake… What if the ice broke? What if they got lost? Panicked, I called Nadya and asked her to watch over Nastya. Then there was a knock on the door. Dmitry stood there.
“Don’t worry, they’re okay.”
“Who?!” I asked, already putting on my coat.
“I’ll explain on the way.”
Turns out, after sledding, they went to the lake. It was frozen, but the winter had been mild. Sveta stepped onto the ice, it cracked, she slipped, and Max rushed to help her—both fell through! Thankfully, it was shallow, only knee-deep, but the shock soaked them through. Miron pulled them out, and they ran to Max’s house nearby.
“Mom, I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again!” Sveta sobbed.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve watched her better,” Miron almost cried.
“Forgive me, it’s my fault,” Max sniffled.
Dmitry reported that he had changed them into dry clothes, made tea with raspberry jam, and fired up the sauna.
After the sauna, the kids fell asleep immediately from exhaustion. Dmitry and I stayed up talking all night.
“When I saw you at school, I thought I was losing my mind,” Dmitry confessed.
“Why?”
“Because I had dreamt about you. You were walking across a meadow with a man. Then it started raining, and you stood alone, water running down your hair. In the dream, I approached you and covered you with my jacket. I woke up calm for the first time since…”
“You were in my dream too…”
We talked until morning. About our past lives, about our dreams and hopes. As the sun rose, we finally fell silent.
“You know,” Dmitry said, “this is the first time in a long time I’ve smiled. It feels like something bad ended, and only good things lie ahead. Liza, let’s start a new life.”
“Together?”
“Yes… I believe you and your children deserve love. And I want to give it to you—and protect you all.”
A month later, I met my future mother-in-law, Anna Alexeyevna.
“Liza, Dima told me you also suffered a loss,” she said carefully.
“Yes, around the same time he did.”
“Such young people… fate is strange.”
“It is.”
“Liza, I know your children—they often visit with Max for my pies,” she smiled warmly. “They’re wonderful! And they really care for each other.”
“They are my greatest joy!”
“I believe you’ll be happy with Dima…”
The kids quickly grew attached to their new grandma, calling her “Babushka” right away. And they began calling Dmitry “Dad” on their own. Anna Alexeyevna adores all the grandchildren, including my older ones. And I happily call her “Mom.”
Dima and I are happy. Living together feels like we’ve known each other forever. And our family has grown: six months ago, we had twins—Antoshka and Lyudochka.
I plan to return to teaching next school year—Ekaterina Petrovna promised to find a way to let me balance motherhood and work.
And you know what? I believe with a loving husband, wonderful children, and an amazing mother-in-law, we’ll make it!