Tatiana was pouring the evening tea into cups when a sharp knock at the door made her flinch. The clock showed half past ten. Who could come to the dacha at this hour?
“Sergey, someone’s here,” she called to her husband, but he was already heading to the door.
A minute later, familiar voices were heard in the hallway. Tatiana froze with the teapot in her hands. The parents-in-law. They had come without a call, without warning, as if the dacha belonged only to them.
“Sergey, son!” Klavdiya Petrovna exclaimed joyfully, kissing her son. “We missed you so much!”
Viktor Ivanovich silently nodded at his daughter-in-law as he passed by into the living room. Apparently, greeting the hostess was not necessary.
“Mom, Dad, what’s going on?” Sergey asked in surprise. “You didn’t say you were coming.”
“Why should we warn you?” the mother-in-law snorted, pulling off her summer jacket. “This is our family dacha. We have the right to come whenever we want.”
Tatiana stood in the kitchen doorway, watching the scene. Family dacha? Interesting. And who has been paying the taxes, fixing the roof, and improving the grounds for the last five years?
“We came to see our son, not you, so be quiet and make way!” Klavdiya Petrovna snapped, noticing her daughter-in-law.
Viktor Ivanovich was already inspecting the living room, feeling the sofa cushions with an appraising touch.
“Well, what are you standing there for?” the mother-in-law continued. “Help bring in the bags. We barely made it here—got stuck in traffic.”
Sergey hurried outside to the car for the suitcases. Tatiana watched her husband thoughtfully, pondering what was happening. Does Klavdiya Petrovna really consider herself the mistress here?
“Oh, it was so hot on the road,” complained the mother-in-law, flopping onto the sofa. “The car’s AC is broken. Viktor Ivanovich is all sweaty.”
Viktor Ivanovich really looked tired. He sat in the armchair, wiping his bald head with a handkerchief.
“Give me some water,” the father-in-law said shortly.
Tatiana silently went to the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water. Returning to the living room, she found Klavdiya Petrovna already unpacking bags right on the floor.
“We’ll put the medicine here,” the mother-in-law commented, placing bottles on the coffee table. “And this is for Viktor Ivanovich’s back. The doctor prescribed rest for him.”
Sergey brought in two large suitcases, breathing heavily.
“Mom, maybe we should first decide where you’ll sleep?” their son suggested.
“Where to sleep?” Klavdiya Petrovna was surprised. “In the bedroom, of course. Viktor Ivanovich’s back hurts, he needs a proper bed.”
Tatiana nearly dropped the glass. Their bedroom? The one room where they could escape the daytime heat?
“But Mom,” Sergey started.
“No buts!” the mother-in-law cut him off. “You young people can sleep on the couch. At our age, we need comfort.”
Viktor Ivanovich nodded approvingly, sipping water.
“Exactly. Guests should have comfort.”
Guests? Tatiana bit her lip. So the owners of the dacha are now guests in their own home?
“Now show us what food you have,” Klavdiya Petrovna ordered, getting up from the sofa. “We’re hungry, only had sandwiches on the road.”
Tatiana led her mother-in-law to the kitchen, mentally going over the fridge contents. Cutlets left from lunch, potatoes, salad…
“Ugh, what kind of food is this?” Klavdiya Petrovna grimaced, looking into the pot. “You want to feed us cold potatoes?”
“I can heat it up,” Tatiana offered.
“No need. I’ll cook something proper myself,” the mother-in-law waved off. “Don’t touch the kitchen tomorrow, I’ll do the cooking. Like it should be done.”
Tatiana silently nodded. So now they’re even taking over the kitchen?
“And anyway,” Klavdiya Petrovna continued, opening the cupboards, “everything here is in the wrong place. Dishes scattered, groceries all over. It’s obvious the hostess is inexperienced.”
Inexperienced hostess? After five years of caring for the dacha? Tatiana clenched her teeth, holding back a sharp reply.
“And why is the fridge half-empty?” the mother-in-law persisted. “We’ll go to the store tomorrow and buy proper food.”
“We have everything we need,” Tatiana quietly objected.
“Everything you need!” Klavdiya Petrovna snorted. “Yogurts, curds. Where’s the meat? Where’s the fish? A man needs to eat heartily.”
From the living room came the father-in-law’s voice:
“Klava! When are we eating?”
“I’m cooking now!” the mother-in-law replied. “I’ll make some fried eggs.”
Klavdiya Petrovna began to boss around in the kitchen as if Tatiana wasn’t there. She turned on the stove, took out a frying pan, and started cracking eggs.
“Where’s your proper butter?” the mother-in-law asked. “Is that sunflower oil? You should cook with olive oil.”
“We don’t have olive oil,” Tatiana answered.
“See,” Klavdiya Petrovna shook her head reproachfully. “No basics in this house. Good thing we came to set things right.”
Set things right? In someone else’s house? Tatiana left the kitchen feeling everything boiling inside her. In the living room, Sergey helped his father get comfortable.
“Dad, maybe put a pillow under you?” the son asked with concern.
“Yes, my back hurts,” Viktor Ivanovich complained. “The trip was hard. We need a proper rest.”
“Of course, Dad. Make yourself at home.”
Make yourself at home. That’s exactly how the in-laws behave. And the real owners become servants.
“Sergey,” Tatiana called her husband. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Sergey came over, and Tatiana led him into the hallway.
“What’s going on?” the wife asked quietly. “Why are they acting like we’re the extras here?”
“Tanya, come on,” Sergey began conciliatory. “They’re tired; they need to rest. We’ll put up with it.”
“Put up with it?” Tatiana couldn’t believe it. “For how long? A day? A week? A month?”
“Well, I don’t know how long they want to stay,” shrugged her husband. “They have nowhere else to go.”
Nowhere to go? Klavdiya Petrovna and Viktor Ivanovich have their own three-room apartment in the city. Air conditioning, all amenities. Why do they need the dacha?
“Sergey, they’re kicking us out of the bedroom,” Tatiana reminded him.
“Well, Dad’s back hurts,” the husband explained. “He can’t sleep on the couch.”
And they can? Tatiana wanted to argue but smelled burnt oil from the kitchen.
“Dinner’s ready!” Klavdiya Petrovna announced.
The mother-in-law set plates on the table in the living room without bothering to call her daughter-in-law.
“Eat, my men,” Klavdiya Petrovna said affectionately. “Get better after the trip.”
Tatiana silently watched the family scene. The in-laws were eating dinner, Sergey fussed around his parents, and she stood aside like a stranger. In her own home.
“Didn’t you have enough eggs?” Viktor Ivanovich asked, looking at Tatiana.
“I had enough,” Tatiana lied. “I’m not hungry.”
“Good,” approved the mother-in-law. “No need to overeat at night. That makes you fat.”
After dinner, Klavdiya Petrovna started bossing about cleaning the dishes.
“Sergey, help clear the dishes,” the mother asked. “I’m tired.”
Sergey obediently gathered the plates and took them to the kitchen. Tatiana wanted to help but was stopped by a gesture from the mother-in-law.
“You go rest,” Klavdiya Petrovna graciously permitted. “We’ll manage ourselves.”
Rest? Where? The in-laws settled in the living room, and they took over the bedroom too. Only the kitchen was left.
“And where do you keep the bedding?” the mother-in-law asked, addressing her son.
“In the bedroom closet,” Sergey answered.
“Bring only clean stuff,” Klavdiya Petrovna requested. “And fresh towels.”
Tatiana accompanied her husband to the bedroom. Sergey took out the bedding set and fluffy towels.
“Sergey,” the wife called quietly, “where will we sleep?”
“On the couch in the living room,” the husband replied as if it was obvious.
“Together? On one couch?”
“Well… Or you can take the armchair.”
The armchair? Tatiana looked at her husband bewildered. Doesn’t Sergey see how absurd the situation is?
“Sergey!” Klavdiya Petrovna called from the living room. “Come help make the bed.”
Sergey hurried to his mother, leaving his wife alone. Tatiana sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window at the summer garden. Just yesterday this was their bedroom, their dacha, their life. And today everything was turned upside down.
Voices came from the next room. Klavdiya Petrovna was telling her son about plans for tomorrow.
“In the morning we’ll go to the store and shop properly,” the mother-in-law planned. “Then we’ll check the vegetable garden, see what’s growing. Viktor Ivanovich likes tomatoes.”
The vegetable garden is theirs now too? Tatiana remembered how she worked in the spring, planting seedlings, watering, weeding. Now she would have to give the fruits of her labor to uninvited guests.
“And also, son,” Klavdiya Petrovna continued, “we need to rest after the trip. So don’t make noise in the morning; we want to sleep in.”
Don’t make noise. In their own home. Tatiana smiled bitterly. What next? No walking around the house during the day? No breathing loudly?
Evening was ending, and the sleeping arrangements problem remained unsolved. Tatiana took a pillow and blanket and headed to the living room. The couch was short and uncomfortable. How could two people fit on it?
Sergey appeared half an hour later, after his parents settled in the bedroom.
“Well, will we fit?” the husband asked, looking at the couch.
“Sergey, it’s impossible,” Tatiana sighed. “The couch is only a one-and-a-half size.”
“It’s okay, we’ll manage somehow,” the husband replied carelessly.
Somehow. For Sergey, it’s simple. The parents came, so you have to put up with it. No matter that the homeowners have become homeless.
The night was torturous. The couch creaked with every movement, the blanket kept slipping off, and by morning Tatiana’s whole back ached. Sergey snored, sprawling over half the couch.
At six in the morning, Viktor Ivanovich woke up. He turned on the TV in the bedroom at full volume, started coughing and loudly blowing his nose. Sleeping further became impossible.
Tatiana got up and stretched her stiff neck. Her reflection in the mirror showed a rumpled face with dark circles under her eyes. A perfect start to a vacation.
In the kitchen, Klavdiya Petrovna was already bustling, making coffee and frying sausages.
“Oh, you’re up already,” the mother-in-law noticed. “Good. Go ask the neighbors where the nearest store is. We need to buy groceries.”
Tatiana silently nodded, pouring herself water. Something inside switched, as if an invisible toggle clicked. She no longer wanted to argue, prove, or explain. She wanted to observe.
“Of course,” Tatiana calmly replied. “I’ll go.”
Klavdiya Petrovna nodded approvingly, flipping the sausages in the pan.
“Buy good meat and fish too. Viktor Ivanovich can’t do without meat. Otherwise, all you have are porridges and salads.”
“All right,” Tatiana agreed.
Sergey appeared in the kitchen, disheveled, wearing a wrinkled T-shirt.
“Mom, what are you cooking?” the son yawned.
“Breakfast for the men,” Klavdiya Petrovna answered affectionately. “And your wife will go to the store to buy groceries.”
Sergey looked at Tatiana, but she just shrugged. Let her husband see what his indulgence led to.
“Tanya, maybe I should go with you?” Sergey offered.
“No need,” his wife refused. “Rest with your parents.”
Tatiana went outside, taking a deep breath of the morning air. The neighbor’s rooster greeted the dawn; somewhere a lawnmower buzzed. An ordinary dacha morning, if not for the circus in their own home.
She didn’t go to the neighbors. Instead, she sat on a bench under the apple tree and began thinking about the situation. Klavdiya Petrovna and Viktor Ivanovich behaved like conquerors. Sergey indulged his parents. And she had turned into a servant.
Well, it’s time to show the in-laws the difference between guests and impostors.
Half an hour later, Tatiana returned to the house. Klavdiya Petrovna was washing dishes, Viktor Ivanovich reading the newspaper, Sergey sitting next to his father.
“Well, did you find out about the store?” the mother-in-law asked.
“Yes, I did,” Tatiana answered. “It’s far. So you’ll have to go there yourselves.”
Klavdiya Petrovna raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“How come yourselves? You’re the hostess; you should buy.”
“I’m the hostess,” Tatiana agreed. “So I decide who buys what in my house.”
A tense silence fell. Viktor Ivanovich looked up from his newspaper; Sergey shifted uneasily.
“Tanya…” her husband started.
“Now I’m going to rest,” Tatiana interrupted. “In my bedroom.”
“But our things are there!” Klavdiya Petrovna protested.
“Then take them,” Tatiana suggested. “Move them to the living room.”
“Are you crazy?” the mother-in-law exploded. “Kick out your elders?”
“I’m not kicking anyone out,” Tatiana answered calmly. “I’m just putting everything back in its place.”
The whole day passed in a tense atmosphere. The in-laws argued among themselves, Sergey ran between his wife and parents, and Tatiana calmly did her own things. Watering the garden, reading a book, cooking lunch only for herself and her husband.
“We’re hungry!” Klavdiya Petrovna complained. “Where’s our lunch?”
“At the store,” Tatiana replied without emotion. “Go buy it.”
By evening, the in-laws’ patience snapped. Viktor Ivanovich announced he was going to the city, and Klavdiya Petrovna began packing suitcases, loudly complaining.
“I’ve never seen anything like this!” the mother-in-law wailed. “The husband’s daughter-in-law is kicking out her parents!”
“I’m not kicking anyone out,” Tatiana objected. “I’m explaining the difference between guests and invaders.”
At night, when the in-laws calmed down in the living room, Tatiana couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. The plan had ripened completely. Tomorrow everything would be decided.
In the morning, Tatiana got up before everyone. She quietly got dressed, made coffee, and sat by the window with a cup. Soon the in-laws woke up.
“Well, have you thought it over?” Klavdiya Petrovna asked, appearing in the kitchen. “Will you behave properly?”
“I will,” Tatiana nodded. “As befits the mistress of the house.”
While the in-laws had breakfast in the living room, Tatiana quietly took their suitcases to the hallway. Then she calmly returned to the kitchen.
“What does this mean?” Viktor Ivanovich demanded, discovering the luggage by the door.
“It means it’s time to pack up,” Tatiana explained.
“Pack up? We just arrived!” Klavdiya Petrovna didn’t understand.
“You barged in uninvited,” Tatiana patiently explained. “Seized someone else’s bedroom, forbade the hostess from using the kitchen, demanded we serve you. You’re not guests, but impostors.”
“How dare you!” the mother-in-law flared up.
“You’re invited as guests,” Tatiana said firmly. “And I don’t tolerate impostors.”
Sergey rushed out of the bedroom, looking confused at what was happening.
“What’s going on here?”
“Your wife is kicking us out!” Klavdiya Petrovna complained.
“I’m not kicking anyone out,” Tatiana corrected. “I’m explaining the rules of behavior in someone else’s house. Even if it’s a relative’s house.”
“Tanya, you’re going too far,” Sergey tried to intervene.
“I’m setting boundaries,” his wife replied. “What you couldn’t do yesterday.”
Tatiana turned to her in-laws:
“Want to come visit? Please. Call ahead, ask permission. Come with gifts, not demands. Thank us for hospitality, don’t boss around the hosts.”
“We’re parents!” Klavdiya Petrovna protested.
“Sergey’s parents,” Tatiana clarified. “And who are you to me? Strangers who barged in at night and declared yourselves masters.”
Viktor Ivanovich silently put on his cap and took his suitcase.
“Let’s go, Klava. They don’t want us here.”
“They don’t want what you did yesterday,” Tatiana agreed. “But well-mannered guests are always welcome.”
Klavdiya Petrovna noisily packed the remaining things, muttering curses under her breath. Sergey ran between his wife and mother, not knowing whom to support.
“Mom, maybe let’s not quarrel?” the son pleaded.
“No one’s quarreling,” Tatiana said. “Everyone is just going back to their place. Parents—to their home, and we—to ours.”
“I never thought Sergey would choose such a wife,” Klavdiya Petrovna said venomously.
“And I never thought well-mannered people could behave like that,” Tatiana retorted.
Half an hour later, the in-laws were loading their things into the car. Viktor Ivanovich drove silently, Klavdiya Petrovna continued complaining.
“Sergey, you do realize your wife is wrong?” the mother called to her son.
Sergey stood on the porch, gloomily staring at the ground.
“Mom, I don’t know…”
“You know,” Tatiana interrupted. “You’re just afraid to admit it.”
The car pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Sergey and Tatiana were left alone in the yard.
“Why did you do it?” the husband asked.
“Because you didn’t,” the wife answered. “Yesterday you should have told your parents that the dacha is ours. That we are the owners here. That guests must ask permission.”
“But they’re my parents!”
“Exactly,” Tatiana nodded. “Parents should set an example of manners, not cause mayhem.”
Sergey was silent, thinking about what had happened.
“Sergey,” Tatiana said softly, “I don’t have anything against your parents. I have a problem with their behavior. If they want to visit properly—welcome. But no one will boss around in our house.”
Her husband slowly nodded, beginning to understand.
“You’re probably right.”
“Of course, I’m right,” Tatiana smiled. “Now let’s go have breakfast. In our kitchen, in our home, by our rules.”
The dacha became their home again. Quiet, calm, and hospitable to those who know how to be guests.