— Marina, open the safe immediately! — the mother-in-law stood in the doorway of the study, clutching some documents in her hands.
Marina Sergeyevna froze with her morning tea cup in hand. She had just been peacefully having breakfast in the kitchen when suddenly Tamara Ivanovna — the mother-in-law who hadn’t shown up for half a year after their last quarrel — burst into the house.
— What’s going on? — Marina carefully set the cup on the table. — Where did you get the keys? We took them away.
— A mother always has spare keys to her son’s house! — Tamara Ivanovna walked into the study without waiting to be invited. — Where are the documents for the dacha? Hand them over immediately!
Marina followed her, trying to understand what had happened. The late father-in-law had bequeathed the dacha directly to her — the daughter-in-law — bypassing his son. The old man always said Marina was the only one in the family who truly loved the land and the garden. This decision had become a stumbling block between them and the mother-in-law.
— Tamara Ivanovna, the documents are in the safe, and I’m not going to give them to anyone. This is my property according to the will.
— Yours? — the mother-in-law flushed with anger. — You’ve only been in our family eight years! And I lived with Nikolai Petrovich for forty! This dacha should be mine!
— But Nikolai Petrovich decided otherwise, — Marina tried to speak calmly though she was boiling inside. — And the court confirmed the validity of the will.
— The court! — Tamara Ivanovna threw a folder onto the table. — But the notary says otherwise! Look!
Marina took the documents. It was a copy of some statement to the notary office declaring the will invalid. Signed — Tamara Ivanovna Vorontsova.
— You’re trying to contest your late husband’s will? — Marina couldn’t believe her eyes.
— I am restoring justice! — the mother-in-law straightened up. — My husband was sick when he wrote that will. Not in his right mind. Otherwise, he would never have given the family dacha to some… stranger!
The word hit harder than a slap. For eight years Marina had tried to become part of this family. Eight years listening to barbs, enduring criticism, trying to please. And now — a stranger.
— Where is Pavel? — asked Marina. — Does he know you’re here?
— Pasha is at work, — the mother-in-law sat in the armchair, clearly intending to stay a while. — And don’t drag my son into this. This is between us.
Marina took out her phone:
— Pavel, your mother is at our house. Please come.
— What is she doing there? — her husband’s voice sounded surprised. — I took the keys away from her.
— Apparently not all. She’s demanding the documents for the dacha.
— I’m on my way, — Pavel answered shortly.
While they waited for her husband, Tamara Ivanovna did not sit quietly. She walked around the study, looking at things, touching books, peeking into drawers.
— Don’t think I’ll back down, — she said. — That dacha is a memory of Nikolai. He planted every tree there with his own hands. And you? You come once a month, weed some flowers, and think — it’s yours?
— I go there every weekend, — Marina objected. — I take care of the garden, repair the house…
— With my son’s money! — the mother-in-law interrupted. — Everything you have is from our family!
Marina bit her lip. Arguing was useless. Yes, in the early years after marriage she didn’t work — finishing university, then finding herself. But for the last four years, she had successfully run her small business — a landscape design studio. And she arranged the dacha with her own money.
The front door slammed. Pavel entered the study with a scowl:
— Mom, what kind of circus is this?
— No circus! — Tamara Ivanovna jumped up. — I demand to get back what belongs to our family!
— The dacha belongs to Marina. Father decided so, — Pavel spoke wearily, as if this topic had been discussed hundreds of times.
— Your father was sick! Brain tumor! He didn’t know what he was writing!
— Mom, stop, — Pavel rubbed his temples. — The tumor was found six months after the will. And the notary confirmed father was sane.
— The notary could be bribed! — Tamara Ivanovna blurted out and immediately bit her tongue.
Silence hung in the room.
— So you think Marina bribed the notary? — Pavel said slowly. — Mom, do you hear yourself?
— I’m telling the truth! — the mother-in-law did not give up. — That dacha is worth millions! Land by the lake, forest nearby! And it all went to her! A person who doesn’t even bear our family name!
Marina silently watched the quarrel between mother and son. How many times had she been caught between them? How many times did Pavel choose neutrality instead of defending his wife?
— By the way, about the last name, — she said unexpectedly. — I have my husband’s last name. Vorontsova. For eight years already.
— Anyone can take a last name! — the mother-in-law snorted. — But blood can’t be changed. You were and will remain a stranger to us!
— Mom! — Pavel raised his voice. — Stop insulting my wife!
— Does the truth sting? — Tamara Ivanovna gathered her papers. — Fine, if you won’t be reasonable, it will be worse. My lawyer is already preparing a lawsuit. We’ll conduct an examination and find witnesses. We’ll prove Nikolai was insane!
— You’re ready to disgrace your husband’s memory for a piece of land? — Marina asked quietly.
The mother-in-law froze in the doorway:
— This is not a piece of land. It’s our family memory. Which you stole!
When the door closed behind Tamara Ivanovna, Marina sank into the armchair. Her hands trembled slightly.
— Don’t worry, — Pavel sat beside her on the armrest. — She won’t prove anything. Father was sane, all documents are in order.
— It’s not about the documents, — Marina looked at her husband. — Your mother will never accept me. To her, I will always be an outsider.
— She’s just upset about the dacha…
— No, Pasha, — Marina interrupted. — The dacha is just a pretext. Remember our wedding? She said you could have found a better wife. Remember how she criticized my cooking, my style, my work? And when I couldn’t get pregnant the first year, remember what she said?
Pavel looked away. He remembered. Tamara Ivanovna had then openly stated that his son was involved with a “barren woman” — one who couldn’t give heirs.
— She apologized later, — he muttered.
— No, she didn’t apologize. She just stopped saying it out loud when you threatened to cut off communication.
Marina stood and went to the window. Outside, their small garden was visible — she had designed the landscape herself, chosen the plants, and cared for it. Just like the garden at the dacha.
— Do you know why your father left the dacha to me? — she asked without turning around.
— Because you love working with plants.
— Not only that. He told me before he died: “Marina, I leave you the dacha because I know you will keep it alive. Tamara will sell the land for cottages, Pavel will neglect it. But you will take care of my garden.”
— Father said that? — Pavel was surprised.
— Yes. And he added: “Maybe this will make Tamara see you not as a stranger, but as someone to trust with family memory.”
Pavel was silent. Marina continued to look out the window where the wind swayed the branches of a young apple tree — a gift from the father-in-law on their first anniversary.
— I’ll talk to Mom, — Pavel finally said. — Explain that it can’t go on like this.
— Don’t, — Marina turned around. — How many times have you talked to her? And what has changed?
The next morning Marina woke up to insistent knocking at the door. Pavel had already left for work. A stranger woman in a strict suit stood on the doorstep:
— Marina Sergeyevna Vorontsova? I’m Tamara Ivanovna’s lawyer. Here is a court summons.
Marina took the document. A lawsuit to declare the will invalid. The first hearing in a month.
The following weeks turned into a nightmare. Tamara Ivanovna launched a real campaign. She called mutual acquaintances, telling them how her daughter-in-law “fraudulently seized” the family dacha. She came to Pavel’s work and caused scenes. She even showed up at Marina’s studio with clients.
— Don’t deal with her! — the mother-in-law loudly told a surprised couple choosing a garden project. — She’s a swindler! Deceived a dying old man!
Clients left. Others followed — rumors in a small town spread quickly. Marina’s business went downhill.
— She’s destroying my reputation, — Marina sat in the kitchen, holding her head in her hands. — For what? For a dacha she herself called “a hole in the forest” for ten years?
— I’ll talk to her, — Pavel promised again.
— Don’t talk, do something! — Marina couldn’t hold back. — This is your mother! Can’t you stop her?
— What can I do? — Pavel shrugged. — Lock her at home? Tape her mouth shut?
— You can take a clear position. Say she’s wrong. That you’re on my side.
— I’m on your side…
— No, — Marina interrupted. — You’re sitting on the fence. “Mom, don’t,” “Marina, bear with it.” And your mother sees you don’t really fight back and continues pushing her agenda.
Pavel was silent. Marina stood:
— You know what? I’m going to the dacha. I need to think.
The dacha was quiet and peaceful. Marina walked around the plot, checking the plants. The roses she saved from aphids last summer were blooming luxuriantly. The apple trees, fed according to her special formula, bent under the weight of fruit. The vegetable garden was pleasing with even beds.
She sat on the porch where Nikolai Petrovich liked to sit. They often drank tea here, and her father-in-law told stories about every tree, every bush. How he and his wife planted them when they were young. How he dreamed their grandchildren would play here.
“Tamara has changed,” he once said. “She used to love the land, but now she only counts money. Wants to sell the dacha, can you imagine? Says you could buy an apartment in Turkey with that money. But she doesn’t care that our youth passed here.”
Marina took out her phone and dialed:
— Hello, Elena Vasilievna? This is Marina Vorontsova. You said you could help with a lawyer?
Elena Vasilievna was an old friend of Nikolai Petrovich, a well-known local lawyer. She immediately agreed to help:
— Of course, dear. I know the whole story. Kolya asked me before he died to make sure the will was clean. He foresaw Tamara would cause scandals.
— Really?
— Yes. I even have a video recording where he explains his decision. We had it made at the notary’s as extra guarantee.
Marina felt relieved. So Nikolai Petrovich really thought about the future and protected his decision.
— And you know, — Elena Vasilievna continued — I have something else. Correspondence between Tamara and a realtor. A year ago she was already negotiating to sell the dacha as soon as she got the rights. She even took a deposit.
— But Nikolai Petrovich was alive then!
— Exactly. She was dividing the bear’s skin before killing it. If this is presented in court, her position will seriously weaken.
Marina thanked her and hung up. So all that hysteria about “family memory” was a lie. The mother-in-law just wanted money.
That evening Pavel returned. Marina met him on the porch:
— We need to talk seriously.
— About what? — he sat down next to her.
— About us. About your mother. About how we live from now on.
Marina told him about the lawyer, the video recording, the correspondence with the realtor. Pavel listened, his face darkening.
— It can’t be. Mom said she wants to keep the dacha as a memory of father.
— Your mom says a lot of things. But does something else.
— There must be an explanation…
— Pasha, — Marina took his hand. — Stop making excuses. Your mother has been humiliating me for years, and now she’s trying to take away what’s dear to me. And destroying my business along the way. How much longer will you pretend nothing’s happening?
Pavel pulled his hand away:
— What do you want from me? To renounce my mother?
— I want you to protect your family. Your wife. Me!
— She’s my family too!
— Then choose, — Marina stood up. — Because I can’t live in a constant war anymore. Either you put your mother in her place or… we’ll have to part ways.
— Are you blackmailing me? — Pavel also stood.
— I’m saving myself. From toxicity, from humiliation, from the eternal role of outsider. I endured for eight years. Enough.
Pavel went back to the city. Marina stayed at the dacha. She couldn’t sleep at night. She went out to the garden, looked at the stars, thought. Would she really have to divorce? She loved Pavel but couldn’t live with constant stress.
The next day an unexpected guest arrived — Zoya, Pavel’s older sister. They rarely communicated — Zoya lived in another city and seldom visited.
— Marina, we need to talk, — Zoya looked determined.
They sat on the veranda. Zoya was silent for a long time, then spoke:
— I know what’s happening. Pavel called and told me. And you know what? You’re right.
— How so? — Marina was surprised.
— Mom has always been like this. Controlling, manipulative, oppressive. Why do you think I left right after university? I couldn’t stand it anymore.
— But Pavel said you left because of work…
— You can find work anywhere. I left because of Mom. Because of her constant “you must,” “this is not proper for a decent girl,” “what will people say.” She drove me to a nervous breakdown with criticism.
Marina listened with her mouth open. Pavel never told her the details of his sister’s departure.
— And you know what’s the saddest? — Zoya continued. — Dad saw it but stayed silent. Like Pavel now. They’re both good people, but… weak. They can’t stand up to Mom’s pressure.
— What should I do?
— Fight. For yourself, for your home, for your life. And don’t wait for Pavel to protect you. He can’t. He was raised to believe mom is always right.
— But I can’t fight forever…
— And you don’t have to, — Zoya took her hand. — Show your teeth once — properly. Mom will back down. She attacks those who don’t fight back.
After Zoya left, Marina thought for a long time. Then she called the lawyer:
— Elena Vasilievna, I’m ready for court. And not only to defend. I want to file a counterclaim — for damage to my reputation and business.
The court day came sooner than expected. The hall was full — Tamara Ivanovna brought a whole group of friends and relatives. Marina came alone — Pavel said he had an important meeting.
But when the hearing started, everything went against the mother-in-law’s plan. Marina’s lawyer presented the video recording where Nikolai Petrovich clearly explained the reasons for his decision. Then the correspondence about selling the dacha. And finally, witness testimonies about how Tamara Ivanovna spread slander.
At first, the mother-in-law tried to deny, then justify, then accuse everyone around. But the facts were indisputable.
During the break, Pavel approached Marina:
— Sorry I’m late. Traffic.
— You came? — she was surprised.
— Of course. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me.
The second hearing was short. The judge dismissed Tamara Ivanovna’s claim and partially satisfied Marina’s counterclaim. The mother-in-law had to publicly apologize and pay compensation.
Leaving the courtroom, Tamara Ivanovna stopped in front of Marina:
— You think you won? My son will never…
— Mom, enough, — Pavel stood between them. — You lost. Accept it gracefully.
— You defend her? — the mother-in-law’s eyes widened. — Against your own mother?
— I defend my wife. Whom you have bullied for years. Father was right to leave the dacha to Marina. She will at least keep the garden alive, not sell it to the first buyer.
Tamara Ivanovna staggered:
— How do you know…
— I saw your correspondence with the realtor. All your “family memory” is just words. But Marina really loves that place.
The mother-in-law turned and left without another word. Her entourage followed, whispering.
In the evening, Marina and Pavel sat on the dacha porch. They drank tea from Nikolai Petrovich’s old cups.
— Sorry I didn’t support you before, — Pavel said quietly. — Zoya was right — I was raised that mom is always right. But that’s not true.
— The main thing is that you realized it now, — Marina took his hand.
— You know, before he died, father told me a strange thing. “Take care of Marina. She is the true mistress, not only of the house but of her own life. And your mother… your mother forgot what it means to create; she only knows how to destroy.”
— He was a wise man.
— Yes. And I’m glad the dacha went to you. You will really keep it alive here.
They sat watching the sunset. Birds sang in the garden, smelling of roses and freshly cut grass. The place full of memory and love was saved. As was their family.
A month later Zoya came with her family. For the first time in many years. The children ran around the garden, picked apples, laughed.
— It’s so good here, — Zoya sat on the veranda. — I remember Dad dreamed of such days. When the whole family would gather.
— Not all, — Pavel remarked. — Mom isn’t here.
— She made her choice, — Zoya shrugged. — Chose pride and money over family.
In the evening, after the guests left, Marina walked around the garden. Every tree, every bush was well cared for. Nikolai Petrovich would have been pleased.
Pavel hugged her from behind:
— Thank you.
— For what?
— For fighting. For us, for the dacha, for father’s memory. I would have given up.
— You wouldn’t have, — Marina smiled. — You just needed time to see the truth.
— And it’s good that you were stronger. And wiser.
They stood looking at their garden. Their garden. Which now no one could take away. Because sometimes you have to defend your right to happiness. Even from the closest people.
And Tamara Ivanovna never showed up again. They say she sold her apartment and moved to a friend in Sochi. Occasionally called Pavel, complaining about her health, but never invited them. Pride wouldn’t allow it.
Marina held no grudge. In the end, thanks to this conflict she understood the main thing — you cannot let anyone destroy your life. Even relatives. Especially relatives. Because family is not just blood. It’s respect, support, and love. And if there is none — then there is no family. Just people connected by formal ties.
And she also understood — Nikolai Petrovich left her not just a dacha. He left a lesson. About valuing those who create, not destroy. Who love the land, not money. Who keep memory with their hearts, not words.
The garden bloomed. Life went on.