Larisa looked up from her computer when Andrei walked into the kitchen. From his face she immediately understood—something was wrong. Her husband stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot like a schoolboy outside the principal’s office.
“What happened?” she asked, closing the laptop.
Andrei came to the table and sat down across from his wife. He couldn’t seem to find a place for his hands.
“Laris, my mom’s birthday is coming up. Sixty. She wants to throw a big party, invite all the relatives, friends…”
Larisa felt everything clench inside. When it came to her mother-in-law, nothing good usually followed.
“And?”
“She’s asking for help with the preparations. You know, set the table, make the salads, the hot dishes… She can’t manage on her own.”
Larisa leaned back in her chair. Seven years ago, when Andrei first took her to meet his mother, Valentina Sergeyevna had greeted her coldly. “Not our sort,” Larisa had heard through a closed door. Since then, things had only gotten worse.
A former literature teacher, Valentina Sergeyevna considered herself an intellectual and looked down on Larisa. Larisa worked at an IT company and earned more than her husband, but for some reason that didn’t earn her any points in her mother-in-law’s eyes. “Girls from respectable families stay home with the children instead of building careers,” Larisa had heard more than once.
And Valentina Sergeyevna could never forgive the fact that her son moved in with his wife instead of bringing her to the parental home. “I live alone and he doesn’t think about me,” she complained to anyone who would listen.
“Why should I help a woman who’s hated me from day one?” Larisa asked.
Andrei sighed.
“She doesn’t hate you. It’s just… hard for her to accept that I’ve grown up.”
“Andrei, she told your aunt, in front of me, that it would’ve been better if you’d married Sveta Korovina. In front of me! And when I tried to say something, she declared that in their house it’s not customary to be rude to elders.”
“Mom can be a bit sharp sometimes…”
“Sharp?” Larisa stood up from the table. “She called me an upstart who’s full of herself because of money. She told our neighbors I don’t take good care of you because your shirt was wrinkled. She…”
“Enough!” Andrei cut her off. “I know things aren’t smooth between you. But she’s my mother. And she’s sixty. She’s invited about thirty people; she can’t handle it alone.”
“Then why invite so many if she can’t organize it?”
“She’s already invited everyone. You can’t cancel a milestone birthday.”
Larisa paced the kitchen and stopped at the window.
“Let her hire catering. They’ll do everything.”
“That costs money, and Mom’s pension is small.”
“She has a son who can pay for his mother’s party.”
“Laris, you know I’m having trouble at work right now. No bonus, the paycheck’s delayed…”
Larisa turned to her husband. Andrei sat with his head down. At such moments he seemed weak to her, unable to stand up for himself and for his family.
“Fine,” she said coldly. “Then let your mommy solve her problems herself. I’m not doing anything for your mother for free! The way she treats me is the way I’ll treat her! Clear?”
Andrei jerked his head up.
“Larisa, don’t be childish. Can’t you let go of grievances for one day?”
“Grievances?” Larisa laughed. “Andrei, for seven years your mother has done everything to make me feel like an outsider in your family. She still calls you every day to ask if you’re hungry, if you’re cold. As if I’m incapable of taking care of you. She buys you socks and underwear even though you have a wife. She…”
“She just worries about me.”
“She just can’t let her son go! And she’s doing everything to wreck our marriage!”
Andrei stood and came over to his wife.
“Laris, please. It’s just one day. Do it for me.”
“No.” Larisa drew back. “I’m done playing happy family. Your mother treats me like an enemy, and I’m not going to keep smiling back.”
That evening they barely spoke. Andrei sat in the kitchen for a long time scrolling on his phone, and Larisa read in the bedroom. When he finally lay down beside her, she pretended to be asleep.
The next day Andrei left for work early without saying goodbye. Larisa was working from home, and by lunchtime she couldn’t focus on her reports. She knew she’d been harsh, but she felt she was right.
Valentina Sergeyevna had never accepted her as part of the family. In family photos she always positioned herself so that Larisa ended up on the edge, or out of the frame entirely. On holidays she gave presents to her son and “forgot” about her daughter-in-law. When Larisa tried to rearrange the furniture in the apartment she shared with Andrei, her mother-in-law declared, “In our family we don’t touch family things without asking.” Even though she and her husband had bought the furniture together with joint money.
She also had a habit of showing up without warning and staying for a long time. She could appear on a Saturday morning with, “I missed my son,” and sit there until evening. She barely spoke to Larisa, and if Larisa tried to join the conversation, she would press her lips together and turn away.
At half past two the doorbell rang. Larisa looked through the peephole and froze—Valentina Sergeyevna was standing on the landing with a bouquet of flowers.
“Larisa, please open up. I need to talk to you.”
Larisa slowly opened the door. Her mother-in-law looked unusual—her hair wasn’t as impeccably styled as usual, and her face showed fatigue.
“Valentina Sergeyevna? Is something wrong? Andrei isn’t home.”
“I came to see you.” She held out the flowers. “May I come in?”
Larisa let her into the hallway and took the bouquet. White roses—expensive, beautiful. Valentina Sergeyevna had never given her flowers before.
“Come to the kitchen. Would you like some tea?”
“Thank you.”
They sat at the table in silence. Larisa put the kettle on and set out the cups. Valentina Sergeyevna sat straight, her hands folded in her lap.
“Andrei said you don’t want to help with the birthday,” she finally said.
“That’s right.”
“May I know why?”
Larisa stopped in the middle of the kitchen.
“Seriously? You really don’t understand?”
Valentina Sergeyevna was silent.
“Fine.” Larisa sat down across from her. “Seven years, Valentina Sergeyevna. For seven years you’ve made it clear I’m extraneous here. That I’m not worthy of your son. That I’m a bad wife, a bad woman, a bad person in general. And now you want me to cook for your guests for free?”
“I never said you were a bad person.”
“You didn’t?” Larisa stood, opened a drawer, and took out a small notebook. “I keep a record of our ‘conversations.’ ‘Larisa can’t cook like normal wives.’ ‘Larisa works too much and forgets about family.’ ‘In respectable families wives don’t earn more than their husbands.’ ‘Larisa dresses provocatively.’ Shall I continue?”
Valentina Sergeyevna turned pale.
“I… I didn’t think you took it all that way.”
“How else was I supposed to take it?”
The kettle whistled. Larisa brewed the tea and set a cup in front of her mother-in-law.
“Larisa, I came to ask for help.” Valentina Sergeyevna’s voice trembled. “I really did invite a lot of people and now I don’t know how to organize it. If you don’t help, I’ll have to cancel everything. I’ve dreamed of this celebration for so many years… of gathering everyone at one table…”
“Why didn’t you ask other relatives? Aunt Sveta, for example? She’s your sister-in-law; she’d certainly help.”
“Sveta lives in another city. She’ll only come for the party itself.”
“What about neighbors? Friends?”
Valentina Sergeyevna lowered her eyes.
“I don’t have many close people. And those I do… they’re elderly themselves.”
Larisa looked at her carefully. For the first time in seven years she saw her like this—confused, pleading, almost defenseless.
“You know what, Valentina Sergeyevna,” Larisa said slowly, “I’m willing to help you. But on one condition.”
Her mother-in-law raised her head.
“What condition?”
“You’ll apologize to me. For all these years. For not accepting me into the family. For humiliating me in public. For trying to set me against Andrei.”
There was a long pause. Valentina Sergeyevna held the cup with trembling hands.
“I…” She fell silent, then began again. “I’m sorry, Larisa. I was wrong. I was afraid of losing my son and so… I treated you badly. Forgive me.”
The words were quiet, almost a whisper. Larisa wasn’t sure the apology was sincere, but she nodded.
“All right. I’ll help you with the birthday.”
Valentina Sergeyevna sniffled.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“But we’ll do everything according to my plan. No remarks or advice from you. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
The next two weeks passed in intense preparations. Larisa drew up the menu, assigned responsibilities, and organized the shopping. True to her word, Valentina Sergeyevna didn’t interfere; she simply carried out the tasks.
Gradually the ice between them began to melt. Working together, they inevitably began to talk more. Valentina Sergeyevna told stories from Andrei’s life, showed old photographs. Larisa shared her plans for the future, talked about her work.
“You know,” her mother-in-law said once as she sliced vegetables for a salad, “I really was afraid of you. You’re so independent, successful. And I was used to Andryusha relying on me for everything. It felt like you’d take him away from me.”
“Valentina Sergeyevna, I don’t want to take Andrei away. I want to be his wife. And you are his mother. Those are different roles.”
“Yes, I understand that now.”
The birthday was magnificent. The guests were thrilled with the food; Valentina Sergeyevna beamed with happiness. And when she gave her thank-you speech, she had special words for her daughter-in-law.
“I want to thank my dear Larisa, without whom this celebration would have been impossible. She showed me what it means to be a real family.”
Larisa felt tears welling up. Maybe not everything was lost. Maybe they really could become a family.
That evening, after the guests had gone and the dishes were washed, Valentina Sergeyevna came up to Larisa.
“May I hug you?”
Larisa nodded. The hug was awkward but warm.
“Thank you for giving me a second chance,” the mother-in-law whispered.
“Thank you for asking for forgiveness.”
On the way home Andrei couldn’t contain his joy.
“Larisa, did you see how happy Mom was? And how she thanked you? I’m so glad you finally made peace.”
“We didn’t make peace, Andrei. We just started with a clean slate.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Larisa looked out the window at the night city. Yes, it was good. But the main thing she finally understood was that respect truly has to be earned. And both sides have to work on a relationship.
A month later, Valentina Sergeyevna called with an unexpected proposal.
“Larisa, I signed up for computer courses. I want to learn how to use the internet and email. Maybe you could help me with my homework?”
“Of course I’ll help,” Larisa smiled.
Perhaps family is not what you’re born into, but what you build—day by day, word by word, act by act. And sometimes, to do that, you first have to tear things down so you can rebuild them—on a solid foundation of mutual respect.