Lilia was putting the child’s clothes away in the dresser when the front door slammed with unusual force. Five-year-old Maksim was already asleep in his bed, and the woman tried not to make any noise. The autumn evening outside was quiet; only occasionally did fallen leaves rustle under the feet of the rare passersby.
Her husband walked into the hallway without even saying hello. Dmitry took off his shoes and hung his jacket on a hook with a sharp motion. From his face, Lilia understood—the day hadn’t been a good one.
“Did something happen at work?” the woman asked, coming out to her husband.
Dmitry went into the kitchen, turned on the kettle, and only then turned to his wife.
“Mom’s coming for the whole summer,” he threw out, not even looking at Lilia.
The woman stopped in the middle of the corridor. Summer had ended a month ago; it was October outside.
“For what summer?” Lilia clarified. “It’s autumn now.”
“Next summer,” Dmitry explained. “Raisa Stepanovna has already bought the tickets. She’s arriving in May and will be staying with us until September.”
Lilia slowly walked into the kitchen and sat down on a chair across from her husband.
“Four months?” she repeated.
“Yes. And one more thing,” Dmitry poured himself filtered water and downed it in one gulp. “Raisa Stepanovna can’t stand you. Pack your things, take our son, and go away. As long as my mother is here, you two shouldn’t be.”
Lilia froze in place, blinking, not knowing how to react. Her husband’s words were so absurd that she wondered—maybe Dmitry was joking?
“Are you serious?” Lilia asked quietly.
“Absolutely,” her husband replied. “Raisa Stepanovna doesn’t want to live under the same roof with you. And I can’t refuse my own mother.”
A heavy silence settled in the kitchen. Only the hum of the refrigerator and the distant noise of cars from the street could be heard. From the children’s room came the measured breathing of sleeping Maksim.
Lilia tilted her head to the side, trying to process what she’d heard. Blood slowly rushed to the woman’s face, betraying her growing indignation.
“This is my home, not a boarding house for your mother,” Lilia said calmly.
Dmitry set the glass on the table and, for the first time during the entire conversation, looked his wife in the eye.
“Raisa Stepanovna is my mother. I’m obligated to ensure she lives comfortably.”
“At the cost of evicting your wife and grandson?” Lilia clarified.
“You’ll find somewhere to stay. At your parents’, for example.”
Lilia rose from the chair and went to the window. The streetlights were coming on outside, illuminating the deserted courtyard. She remembered how eight years ago she had bought this two-room apartment with her savings. Dmitry had been working as a trainee at a small firm then and had no money for housing.
“The apartment belongs to me,” Lilia reminded him. “And the people who live here are the ones I decide on.”
Dmitry got up from the table, clearly bracing for an argument.
“You’re forgetting parental authority,” he began, though there was no confidence in his voice. “Raisa Stepanovna is older, wiser. She has the right—”
“The right to what?” Lilia cut him off. “To throw the homeowner out of her own house?”
“She isn’t throwing you out. She’s just asking you to temporarily clear some space.”
Lilia turned to her husband. Dmitry avoided her direct gaze, studying the pattern on the kitchen tiles.
“And where, in Raisa Stepanovna’s opinion, are her grandson and daughter-in-law supposed to live for those four months?”
“Well… with your parents. Or you can rent something.”
“With my money?”
“With our money,” Dmitry corrected himself.
“With my money,” Lilia repeated. “Because your salary barely covers the groceries.”
Her husband fell irritably silent, realizing that arguing further was pointless. Lilia really did earn three times more and supported the family almost single-handedly.
“Raisa Stepanovna has already bought the tickets,” Dmitry tried to press. “They can’t be canceled.”
“Let her fly. She’ll just be staying at a hotel,” Lilia replied.
“With what money? Raisa Stepanovna’s pension is small.”
“Not my problem.”
Dmitry paced the kitchen from the window to the refrigerator and back. He was clearly nervous, but didn’t dare keep pressing his wife.
“Lila, be reasonable. She’s my mother.”
“And Maksim is your son. And I’m your wife. By the way.”
“But Raisa Stepanovna is lonely, ill…”
“Ill with what?” Lilia asked with interest.
Dmitry hesitated.
“Well… age. Seventy years old.”
“A perfect age for traveling between hotels,” Lilia observed.
A soft whimper came from the children’s room. Maksim had woken up, as often happened lately. Lilia went to her son, leaving her husband alone with his thoughts in the kitchen.
“Mom, I had a scary dream,” the boy whispered when Lilia sat on the edge of his bed.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
“That big mean uncles were throwing us out of our home.”
Lilia stroked her son’s head. The child had clearly heard the raised voices from the kitchen.
“No one is throwing us out of here,” the woman promised. “This is our home.”
Maksim hugged his mother and quickly fell back asleep. Lilia returned to the kitchen, where Dmitry was still standing by the window.
“The decision is made,” the woman said. “Raisa Stepanovna can come whenever she likes. But she’ll stay in a hotel or with one of her many friends.”
“She doesn’t have any friends in our city.”
“Then in a hotel.”
“Lila, you understand…”
“I understand. That your mother considers me unworthy of living in my own apartment.”
Dmitry turned to his wife.
“Raisa Stepanovna just wants to spend time with her son. Without outsiders.”
“Outsiders?” Lilia raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been your wife for six years. Maksim is Raisa Stepanovna’s grandson. We’re ‘outsiders’?”
“That’s not what I meant…”
“What did you mean?”
Her husband fell silent again. Dmitry clearly lacked arguments, and the canned lines from his mother sounded unconvincing.
“All right,” the man gave in. “I’ll talk to Raisa Stepanovna. Maybe we can find a compromise.”
“What kind of compromise?” Lilia asked.
“Well… maybe you and Maksim could live in the big room, and Raisa Stepanovna in the small one?”
“So we’re supposed to cram together, the three of us, in one room so that your mother is comfortable?”
“Maksim is small; he doesn’t take up much space…”
Lilia gave her husband a look that made him fall silent at once.
“Another option,” the woman proposed. “Raisa Stepanovna comes for two weeks max. That’s enough to visit her son.”
“She bought tickets for four months!”
“She can change them.”
“The penalties are big…”
“Then she can pay them.”
Dmitry went to the table and collapsed heavily into a chair.
“Raisa Stepanovna will be furious.”
“And why should I care?”
“Lila, she’s an elderly woman. She deserves respect.”
“Respect is earned by actions, not by age,” Lilia replied. “What’s respectful about trying to evict your daughter-in-law from her own home?”
“But surely we can come to some agreement…”
“We can. Raisa Stepanovna flies in for two weeks, behaves herself, and doesn’t meddle in other people’s lives.”
Dmitry rubbed his forehead with his palm.
“You know what? Let me talk to Raisa Stepanovna on the phone first. I’ll explain the situation.”
“What situation?” Lilia asked warily.
“That the apartment is yours and you don’t agree to long-term guests.”
“And that I pay for this apartment, the utilities, the food, and support the whole family,” Lilia added.
“Why say that?”
“So that Raisa Stepanovna understands the balance of power.”
Dmitry nodded, though he didn’t look any more enthusiastic. The conversation with his mother promised to be difficult.
“Fine. I’ll call her tomorrow evening.”
“Tonight,” Lilia corrected. “The sooner, the better.”
“But it’s already late there…”
“Yekaterinburg is only two hours ahead. She’s still up.”
Dmitry took out his phone and looked at the screen. Half past nine. Indeed, his mother should still be awake.
“Okay. I’ll call now.”
Lilia nodded and went to check on Maksim. The boy was fast asleep, hugging his plush bear. She tucked the blanket around him and returned to the kitchen. Dmitry was already dialing.
“Mom? It’s me,” her husband began. “We need to talk about your trip.”
Even from a distance, Lilia could hear Raisa Stepanovna’s loud voice. Her mother-in-law clearly hadn’t expected bad news.
“Yes, I understand, you bought the tickets… But a problem has come up.”
Dmitry moved to the window, lowering his voice. Lilia didn’t eavesdrop; she busied herself clearing the table. The call lasted more than half an hour. Her husband kept returning to the phone—the angry mother would hang up, then call back herself.
“Well?” Lilia asked when Dmitry finally set the phone down.
“Bad,” her husband admitted. “Raisa Stepanovna doesn’t get it. She says I’m henpecked and that you boss me around.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That the apartment is yours and you have the right to decide.”
“And then?”
Dmitry was silent for a moment, clearly reluctant to continue.
“Raisa Stepanovna said that in that case I have to choose between my wife and my mother.”
“And what did you choose?”
“Nothing yet. I asked for time to think.”
Lilia nodded and headed to the bedroom. The conversation was over, but she understood—tomorrow Dmitry would start pressuring her again. Her mother-in-law wouldn’t give up easily.
In the morning Lilia woke earlier than usual. A fine October drizzle was falling outside; the leaves had yellowed and were dropping. Dmitry was still asleep, and so was Maksim. A good time for important matters.
She quietly went to the hallway and took a large travel bag out of the closet. Then she returned to the bedroom and began neatly packing her husband’s things. Shirts, trousers, socks—everything found its place in the luggage. Lilia worked methodically, as if packing a suitcase for an ordinary trip.
She put Dmitry’s documents—passport, driver’s license, employment record book—into a separate folder. She kept the apartment keys for herself, and put her husband’s keyring with the mailbox and storage room keys on top of the clothes.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Maksim asked, appearing in the bedroom doorway.
“Daddy is going to visit Grandma,” Lilia replied calmly. “Help me carry the bag to the hallway.”
The boy obediently took one handle, and Lilia the other. Together they carried the luggage to the front door.
“Are we going to Grandma’s with Dad too?” Maksim asked.
“No, honey. We’re staying home.”
“Why is Dad going alone?”
“Because that’s better for everyone.”
Dmitry woke up half an hour later. He went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, where Lilia was already making breakfast for Maksim.
“Good morning,” Dmitry mumbled, pouring himself coffee.
“Your mother is waiting for you,” Lilia said evenly, without looking up from her son’s plate. “You’re going to Raisa Stepanovna’s.”
Dmitry froze with the cup in his hands.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“About the fact that you’re choosing between your wife and your mother. You chose your mother—go live with her.”
“Lila, we agreed…”
“We didn’t agree on anything. You gave me an ultimatum—either I move out for four months, or you choose between us. The choice has been made.”
Dmitry put the cup down on the table and stared at his wife.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. Your things are packed and in the hallway.”
Her husband quickly went to the front door. Indeed, a large bag was waiting for him by the threshold.
“Lilia!” he called from the corridor. “Let’s talk this over calmly!”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” the woman replied. “Raisa Stepanovna wanted the apartment to be freed up. Well then—now there’s plenty of space.”
Dmitry returned to the kitchen. His face had gone pale.
“Where am I supposed to go? Raisa Stepanovna has a one-room apartment!”
“That’s your problem. Or hers.”
“What about Maksim?”
“Maksim stays with me. In his own home.”
“Lila, think this through! We’re a family!”
“A family is when a husband protects his wife and child, not throws them out for his mother’s whims.”
Dmitry sat down and buried his head in his hands.
“I didn’t want to fight…”
“But you did. The choice is made—live with the consequences.”
“Maybe we can find a compromise?”
“What kind?” Lilia turned to her husband. “Raisa Stepanovna comes for two weeks, behaves decently, and doesn’t interfere in our lives. No other options are on the table.”
“And if my mother doesn’t agree?”
“Then go live with your mother.”
Dmitry stood up and started pacing the kitchen from the window to the refrigerator.
“Lila, be reasonable. Where am I supposed to go?”
“To your mom’s. Raisa Stepanovna wanted to spend time with her son—now she’ll have unlimited access.”
“But she doesn’t have much space…”
“But her son will be nearby. Isn’t that what she dreamed of?”
Maksim finished breakfast and went to his room to play. Lilia watched him go and returned to her conversation with her husband.
“You have two options,” the woman said. “Either you call Raisa Stepanovna and explain that the visit is possible only for two weeks. Or you pick up your things and go to her right now.”
“And a third option?”
“There is no third option.”
Dmitry stopped by the table and looked at his wife.
“And if I refuse to leave?”
“Then I’ll file for divorce and division of property. The apartment will remain mine, as it was bought before the marriage with my money. And you’ll be paying child support for Maksim.”
“So you’re ready to destroy the family over a whim?”
“This isn’t a whim. It’s protecting my home and my child from toxic people.”
Dmitry sat down again.
“Raisa Stepanovna isn’t toxic. She’s just… difficult.”
“So difficult that she demands her daughter-in-law be evicted?”
“Lilia, understand, my mother is old, she’s lonely…”
“She has a son who can visit her anytime he wants. Or move in with her permanently.”
“I can’t quit my job and move to another city!”
“Then why was I supposed to quit my job and life for four months?”
Dmitry fell silent. He had run out of arguments.
“Fine,” her husband yielded. “I’ll call Raisa Stepanovna again. I’ll try to negotiate the two weeks.”
“Call,” Lilia agreed. “Just remember—if she comes with her original plans, you automatically move in with her.”
Dmitry nodded and took out his phone. The conversation with his mother turned out to be even more tempestuous than the day before. Raisa Stepanovna yelled so loudly that Lilia heard every word from the next room.
“What kind of wife is that?!” the mother-in-law raged. “No shame at all! She won’t let a mother see her own son!”
“Mom, the apartment isn’t mine…”
“Whose then? Your wife’s? Then divorce her and come to me! We’ll find you a normal girl who respects her elders!”
“Mom, I have a son…”
“We’ll take the boy too! He can live with his grandma, not with that—”
Dmitry cut the call and put down the phone. His face had gone gray.
“Well?” Lilia asked.
“Raisa Stepanovna said either she comes for the whole summer, or I divorce you and move in with her.”
“I see. Then pack up.”
“Lilia…”
“I’m staying here with our son,” the woman said firmly. “You wanted there to be no room—fine, let there be room. Just not for Raisa Stepanovna, but for you.”
Dmitry sighed heavily and went to the hallway for his bag. Lilia made sure her husband took all his documents and personal things.
“Leave the apartment keys,” she reminded him.
“How am I supposed to…”
“You’re not. This is no longer your home.”
Dmitry removed the keys from his keychain and set them on the hallway cabinet. Then he took the bag and headed for the door.
“Maybe you’ll reconsider?” he tried one last time.
“It’s too late to reconsider. You should’ve thought yesterday, when you issued your ultimatum.”
On the landing, their neighbor, Aunt Zina, appeared. The elderly woman was carrying a grocery bag and looked at Dmitry with his luggage in surprise.
“Business trip?” the neighbor inquired.
“Something like that,” he muttered.
Lilia closed the door and turned the lock. The apartment became quiet and peaceful. She went to Maksim, who was building a tower out of blocks.
“Mom, when will Dad come back?” the boy asked.
“I don’t know, honey. Maybe soon. Maybe not soon.”
“Will we miss him?”
“Maybe. But we’ll manage.”
Maksim nodded and went on playing. Lilia sat down next to him and helped finish the tower. A drizzle still fell outside, but the apartment was warm and cozy.
In the evening Dmitry called.
“Lilia, Raisa Stepanovna agrees to two weeks,” her husband reported in a tired voice.
“Good. Then you can come back.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course. On the condition there will be no more ultimatums.”
“There won’t,” Dmitry promised quickly.
“And that during her visit, Raisa Stepanovna behaves like an ordinary guest—doesn’t interfere with Maksim’s upbringing, doesn’t criticize my cooking, and doesn’t rearrange the household to suit herself.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting for the results of that conversation.”
The next day Dmitry returned home with his head bowed. After much pleading from her son—and his threat to move in with her permanently—Raisa Stepanovna really did agree to come for just two weeks.
Lilia greeted her husband calmly, without reproach or unnecessary questions. Dmitry had learned a lesson he would remember for a long time: in someone else’s house, it’s not done to dictate terms—even if that house belongs to your wife.
Maksim was happy that his father was back, and all evening he told him how he and Mom had built towers and read books. The boy took his father’s absence in stride—one day without Dad wasn’t a tragedy for a five-year-old.
And Lilia understood the most important thing—sometimes you have to take drastic measures to protect your home and family. Gentleness and compliance are good only up to a point. Beyond that lies a territory that must be guarded at any cost.