Lera always tried to keep her composure when it came to Valentina Mikhailovna. Her mother-in-law would come to their apartment two or three times a week, and every visit turned into a trial. The September days were getting shorter, and Lera’s mood was growing worse.
Valentina Mikhailovna adored throwing feasts. She would arrive with bags full of groceries, seize the kitchen, and start cooking for an army. And she would be sure to invite over the neighbors, acquaintances, and sometimes complete strangers.
— Now that’s what I call hospitality! — the mother-in-law would proclaim loudly, setting out plates. — Not like some people who can’t even brew a proper cup of tea.
Lera clenched her jaw and kept slicing bread. Valentina Mikhailovna never spoke directly, but everyone knew whom she meant.
At the table the mother-in-law turned into a true storyteller. Her eyes lit up, her voice became solemn, and the performance began.
— My nephew’s wife is an absolute gem! — Valentina Mikhailovna would throw up her hands theatrically. — Tanya is so handy! You should see what she embroiders — real pictures! And she knits, and sews, and their garden is in perfect order. She cans cucumbers, bottles compotes. Their home is a full cup!
The guests nodded approvingly, and Lera felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Her husband Sergei sat next to her, buried in his phone as if nothing were happening.
— And Lenka, my cousin’s wife, is wonderful too, — Valentina Mikhailovna went on. — So obedient, so agreeable. Never talks back. Her mother-in-law feels safe behind a stone wall with her. She helps with everything, asks advice about every little thing. Now that’s what I call upbringing!
One of the neighbors turned to Lera:
— And what can you do?
Lera opened her mouth, but Valentina Mikhailovna quickly took over:
— Oh, what’s there to ask! — her voice rang with poorly concealed mockery. — Our Lerochka is a modern girl. She works in an office, sits at a computer. She has no time for handicrafts or housekeeping. She’s used to having everything done for her.
— I work as a manager at a trading company, — Lera tried to explain.
— Yes, yes, a manager, — Valentina Mikhailovna nodded knowingly. — And who does everything at home? My poor Sergei has to cook and clean after work too. Our spoiled little daughter-in-law.
Lera clenched her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. Sergei kept staring at the screen as if the conversation had nothing to do with him.
After yet another feast, when the guests had left and the dishes were washed, Valentina Mikhailovna approached Lera with a sugary smile.
— Lerochka, dear, could you go with me to the clinic tomorrow? — she spoke as if asking a tremendous favor. — I need to pick up some test results, and I’m a bit scared to go alone.
— Of course, Valentina Mikhailovna, — Lera answered, although she had an important client meeting the next day.
— Thank you, my treasure! Sergei is busy at work, I don’t want to bother him. And you have a flexible schedule, you can step out any time.
Lera wanted to object that her schedule wasn’t flexible at all, but kept quiet. Better not to start a scene.
The next week the story repeated itself. Valentina Mikhailovna showed up with another request.
— Lerochka, could you run to the pharmacy? — she handed over a list of medicines. — The doctor prescribed some new pills, and I don’t understand these names. I’m afraid I’ll buy the wrong thing.
— All right, — Lera nodded.
— And also, if it’s not too much trouble, stop by the store. I need grains and cleaning supplies. I can’t carry heavy things, my back hurts.
Lera spent half a day driving to three different pharmacies looking for the right medicines, then waited in line at a hypermarket for the groceries. She came home exhausted and irritated.
— How’s it going? — Sergei asked without taking his eyes off the TV.
— Fine, — Lera replied curtly.
A few days later, Valentina Mikhailovna appeared again. This time with a large party of relatives.
— Meet my daughter-in-law Lera, — she said by way of introduction. — And this is my sister-in-law, Raisa Petrovna, with her daughter Masha.
Masha was Lera’s age but acted as if she were older and wiser.
— I heard you work in an office? — Masha asked, casting an appraising eye over the apartment.
— Yes, at a trading company.
— Oh, how interesting! — Masha exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. — And I stay home and raise my children. I have three, can you imagine? And they’re all so smart and obedient. The eldest already goes to music school, plays the violin.
Valentina Mikhailovna beamed:
— Now that’s a real woman! Runs the household, raises the kids, supports her husband. Not someone who runs around offices.
Lera felt her face burn with anger but held herself back.
— Yes, yes, — chimed in Raisa Petrovna. — Our Masha is so domestic! She cooks beautifully, sews, and knits. I always tell her: dear, you’re a real treasure for any man.
— And I keep a vegetable garden too, — Masha added modestly. — I grow my own vegetables, make preserves for winter. My husband says our home is like paradise.
Valentina Mikhailovna turned to Lera:
— Hear that, Lerochka? You should learn from Masha! Maybe then my Sergei would spend more time at home instead of disappearing every evening.
Lera froze. Only she knew that Sergei had started working late or going out with friends. How did her mother-in-law know?
— Does Sergei stay out often? — Raisa Petrovna asked with curiosity.
— Well, he works a lot, — Lera answered vaguely.
— Of course he works! — snorted Valentina Mikhailovna. — Any man would run from such a home atmosphere. It’s boring at home, the fridge is empty, the wife is always at work. So he looks for a place where his soul can rest.
Masha shook her head sympathetically:
— Oh, what a pity! A woman has to know how to keep a man at home. Create comfort, care for him, spoil him with something tasty. My husband doesn’t even want to go on business trips — says home is better than anywhere else.
The conversation went on in the same vein for a good hour. Lera sat in silence, feeling irritation boil over. All these hints, comparisons, moralizing got on her nerves worse than any scandal.
When the guests finally left, Lera couldn’t hold it in:
— Sergei, did you hear what your mother was saying?
— What of it? — he shrugged. — Just women’s talk.
— Women’s talk? She humiliated me in front of everyone!
— Oh, come on, don’t dramatize. Mom just gave an example of how other people live.
— She called me useless and spoiled!
— She didn’t call you that, she hinted. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to listen to elders sometimes?
Lera stared at her husband, unable to believe her ears.
— So you agree I’m a bad wife?
— I didn’t say that. I’m just saying Mom is right that you could pay more attention to the house.
— And who cooks, cleans, and does the laundry? The house sprite?
— We take turns cooking…
— Take turns? Really? When was the last time you cooked? The day before yesterday when you reheated dumplings — is that cooking?
Sergei winced:
— Why are you raising your voice? I’m talking to you calmly.
— Because I’m tired! Tired of your mother constantly criticizing me while you say nothing!
— Mom doesn’t criticize anyone. She just gives advice.
Lera turned and went to the bedroom. The conversation was pointless.
The next day, Valentina Mikhailovna called again with a request. This time, Lera had to drive to the other end of the city for some special cream.
— Lerochka, dear, help me out! — her mother-in-law’s voice was pleading. — Only one pharmacy sells this cream, and it’s so hard for me to get there. You drive, it’s no trouble for you.
Lera looked at the clock. Three hours left until an important meeting.
— Maybe another day, Valentina Mikhailovna? I have…
— Oh, what can be so important for you? — the mother-in-law cut her off. — So you’ll be a little late! I need the cream urgently, my skin itches terribly!
Lera gave in and went for the cream. Naturally she got stuck in traffic, arrived forty minutes late to the meeting, and got a reprimand from her boss.
That evening she told Sergei about the trouble at work.
— So what if you were late once, — he waved it off. — Mom asked for help. You couldn’t refuse.
— And if I get fired because of these delays?
— They won’t fire you. And if they do, you’ll find another job.
Lera was stunned by such indifference.
A week later the situation repeated itself. Valentina Mikhailovna held another dinner party where she again compared Lera to other daughters-in-law.
— And how happy my nephew’s wife Tanya has made her mother-in-law! — she sighed. — They go on vacations together, exchange gifts. Tanya always asks for advice, listens in everything. A real daughter!
Then her gaze settled on Lera:
— And some people think that once they’ve married, they can ignore their husband’s parents. They live as they please, ask no one, consult no one.
— If you have something to ask me, ask it directly, — Lera couldn’t stand it.
Her mother-in-law widened her eyes:
— What could I possibly ask, dear! I’m not talking about anything specific. Just thinking out loud about how different people treat their elders.
After dinner, while Lera was washing the dishes, Valentina Mikhailovna came up to the sink.
— Lerochka, are you good for anything at all? — she asked with such innocence it sounded like she was asking about the weather.
Lera turned sharply, and the plate slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor.
— What did you say?
— Nothing special, — Valentina Mikhailovna shrugged. — I’m just curious whether you have any useful skills besides office work.
Blood rushed to Lera’s face, betraying the fury she was barely holding in. Her hands trembled as she bent to pick up the shards.
— Since I’m the enemy in your mother’s eyes, she can live however she likes on her own. I won’t be serving her anymore, — Lera said firmly as she stood up.
Silence fell. Valentina Mikhailovna froze, blinking as if she didn’t understand what she’d heard. Sergei tore himself away from his phone and looked at his wife in puzzlement.
— Lera, what are you saying? — he muttered. — Mom didn’t mean anything bad…
— Didn’t mean it? — Lera turned to Sergei. — Your mother just asked me, in front of guests, what I’m good for at all! And you think that isn’t malice?
Valentina Mikhailovna quickly recovered:
— Lerochka, you misunderstood! I didn’t want to hurt you!
— You didn’t? And when you called me spoiled and useless — you didn’t mean that either? When you compared me to other daughters-in-law — that was an accident too?
— I’m just used to getting help, — the mother-in-law tried to justify herself. — At my age it’s hard to manage alone…
— Then ask your perfect daughters-in-law! Tanya the handywoman or compliant Lenka! Let them help you!
Sergei stood up from the couch:
— Lera, calm down. Why are you making a scene over trifles?
— Trifles? — Lera’s voice rose. — Your mother has been humiliating me for months, and you call that trifles?
— Mom doesn’t humiliate anyone. Older people have their habits…
— What habits? The habit of using me as free help? The habit of insulting me in front of others?
Valentina Mikhailovna threw up her hands:
— Good heavens, what terrible thing have I done? I asked you to go to the pharmacy, to accompany me to the clinic… Are those insults?
— And then you tell everyone what a worthless wife and housekeeper I am! — Lera felt her voice beginning to break. — Enough! I won’t go anymore, I won’t, I won’t help!
— Lera, you understand it’s hard for my mother to be alone, — Sergei tried to reason with her.
— I understand. But I’m not obliged to endure humiliation for that.
— What humiliation? — Valentina Mikhailovna protested. — I wish you well! I give you advice on how to live better!
— I don’t need your advice. Or your comparisons to other women.
Sergei sighed:
— Fine, Mom won’t say anything anymore. Right, Mom?
— Of course, of course, — Valentina Mikhailovna nodded hastily. — I didn’t know Lerochka was so sensitive…
— Sensitive? — Lera could barely contain herself. — I just want to be respected in my own home!
A week later, Valentina Mikhailovna called again. Her voice was cautious, but the request was the same:
— Lerochka, dear, could you run to the store? I need groceries, and it’s hard for me…
— No, — Lera answered shortly.
— What do you mean, no? — the mother-in-law faltered.
— No, I won’t go. Find someone else.
— But… but who? I only have you and Sergei…
— Ask Tanya or Lenka. You praise them so highly.
— Lerochka, they live far away…
— That’s not my problem.
Lera hung up. Half an hour later Sergei called.
— You’ve really got some nerve! — he shouted into the phone. — Mom is in tears! You won’t help an elderly person!
— Your mother chose this kind of relationship herself.
— Lera, you’re acting like an egoist! She’s my mother, and you’re obliged to respect her!
— Respect goes both ways. Your mother doesn’t respect me, so I owe her nothing.
— She doesn’t respect you? She treats you like her own daughter!
— Really? Do people call their own daughters useless and spoiled?
— Forget those words already! Mom misspoke!
— Misspoke? For months?
— Lera, stop it! Tomorrow you’re going shopping with Mom, and that’s final!
— I’m not going.
— You are!
— Try and make me.
Lera ended the call. Her hands were shaking with anger and hurt. Could her husband truly not understand how much she had suffered all these months?
The next day, Valentina Mikhailovna showed up with red eyes.
— Sergei, talk to your wife! — she pounced on her son. — Your Lera has completely let herself go! She’s rude, won’t help! I don’t know how you live with her!
— Mom, calm down, — Sergei tried to soothe her. — Lera is just tired from work…
— Tired! — snorted Valentina Mikhailovna. — And I’m not tired? My blood pressure spikes, my joints ache, and she refuses me simple help!
Lera listened silently from the kitchen, her heart pounding with indignation.
— Ler, come here, — her husband called.
Lera came out with her arms crossed.
— Apologize to Mom, — Sergei demanded.
— For what?
— For being rude. For refusing to help.
— I won’t apologize.
Valentina Mikhailovna sobbed:
— See what she’s become? No manners at all! Completely brazen!
— Lera, I’m serious. Apologize, — Sergei repeated.
— Will you apologize for letting your mother insult me?
— Mom doesn’t insult anyone!
— Then I won’t apologize.
Sergei flushed:
— Then pack your things and go to your parents’! Until you come to your senses!
Lera nodded slowly:
— Good idea.
He clearly hadn’t expected that reaction. He thought his wife would be scared and give in.
— You mean you’re really ready to leave? — he asked incredulously.
— I am. But I’m not the one leaving.
— What do you mean?
Lera walked calmly to the hall and took out her husband’s suitcase. She set it by the door.
— You’re leaving. With your mother.
— What are you doing? — Valentina Mikhailovna screeched. — This is outrageous!
— Nothing outrageous. I just refuse to tolerate people in my home who don’t respect me.
Sergei stared at the suitcase in confusion:
— Lera, are you serious? This is my apartment too…
— No. It’s my apartment. I inherited it from my grandmother. You’re registered here, but I’m the owner.
— But we’re husband and wife!
— A husband protects his wife, he doesn’t let his mother humiliate her.
Valentina Mikhailovna exploded:
— You don’t treat a mother like that! Have you no shame at all?!
— Shame? — Lera turned to her. — Where was your shame when you asked in front of guests what I was good for?
— I misspoke! It happens to everyone!
— For months on end?
— Lera, don’t be childish, — Sergei tried to intervene. — Mom didn’t mean to hurt you.
— Whether she meant it or not doesn’t matter. The result is the same. And I’m done putting up with it.
Lera picked up her phone and started dialing.
— Who are you calling? — her husband asked warily.
— The police. I’ll explain that I no longer wish to tolerate outsiders in my apartment.
— Outsiders? — Valentina Mikhailovna was taken aback. — I’m your mother-in-law!
— A mother-in-law who doesn’t respect me is a stranger to me.
Sergei tried to snatch the phone:
— Lera, don’t be ridiculous! What police?
— Back off. Either you leave voluntarily or with assistance.
— You’ve gone insane! — shouted Valentina Mikhailovna.
Lera pressed “call.” A few minutes later two police officers came to the door.
— Good evening. Did you call?
— Yes. I want these people to leave my apartment.
The senior officer looked around:
— What’s the problem?
— They refuse to leave even though I no longer want them here.
— But that’s my son and my daughter-in-law! — Valentina Mikhailovna protested.
— Do you have the apartment documents? — the officer asked Lera.
She brought the ownership certificate.
— I see. And are you registered here? — the officer asked Sergei.
— Yes, I am, — he muttered.
— But you’re not the owner, your wife is. She has the right to decide who may be on the premises and who may not.
— But I’m her husband! — Sergei tried to object.
— That doesn’t change property rights. If the owner asks you to leave, you must leave.
Valentina Mikhailovna clutched at her heart:
— My God, what has it come to! They’re throwing out their own son!
— Mom, calm down, — Sergei said, rattled.
— Are you registered here? — the officer asked the mother-in-law.
— No… I’m a guest…
— Then you must leave immediately.
— But where am I to go?!
— That’s not our concern, — the officer replied dryly.
Sergei realized arguing was useless. He took the suitcase and helped his mother get dressed.
— Lera, are you serious? — he asked one last time. — We can discuss this…
— There’s nothing to discuss. You’ve made your choice.
— And the keys? — the officer prompted.
Reluctantly, Sergei took the set of keys and put it on the dresser.
— Thank you for calling, — the senior officer said to Lera. — If there are more problems, call again.
When they were gone, Lera locked the door and leaned her back against it. Silence fell in the apartment — but for the first time in many months it was a calm, soothing silence.
The next morning Lera called a locksmith and changed the locks. Then she brewed coffee, sat by the window, and looked out at the autumn courtyard. Yellow leaves drifted slowly through the air, and at last the apartment felt warm and cozy.
Her phone was silent. Neither Sergei nor Valentina Mikhailovna called. Apparently, they had realized Lera was serious.
That evening Lera cooked dinner just for herself, put on her favorite movie, and settled on the couch with a blanket. For the first time in a long while, no one criticized her choice of dishes, demanded she change the channel, or lectured her on how other people lived better.
A week later her friend called:
— Lera, how are you? It’s been a while.
— Great. I’m getting a divorce.
— Seriously? What happened?
— I got tired of being a maid and a target for insults.
— I understand. Hang in there. If you need help, I’m here.
After the call, Lera smiled. It’s good when there are people around who support you instead of demanding sacrifices for the sake of a dubious family peace.
Sergei never called to apologize. Apparently, he believed his wife should be the first to seek reconciliation. But Lera no longer intended to submit to others’ expectations.
She arranged the apartment to her own taste and adopted habits that had previously annoyed her husband and mother-in-law. She read late into the night, listened to music, cooked what she wanted rather than what was deemed proper.
A month later Lera met Valentina Mikhailovna at the store. Her mother-in-law looked older and worn out.
— Lerochka, — she began.
— Goodbye, Valentina Mikhailovna, — Lera replied calmly and walked past.
No one dared call her useless anymore or demand sacrifices for someone else’s comfort. Lera realized that self-respect matters more than preserving any relationship. And for the first time in a long time, she felt truly free.