Alyona had just kicked off her work shoes when the sharp ring of the intercom sliced through the evening quiet of the apartment. The voice on the handset sounded cheerful and carefree:
“We’re almost there! Open up!”
Tatyana. Her sister-in-law. The one who never thought it necessary to warn about her visits in advance. Alyona glanced at herself in the mirror—tired face after a hospital shift, hair tousled. She wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch and not move until morning.
“Who is it?” Oleg asked from the kitchen, not looking up from his newspaper.
“Your sister with the kids,” Alyona pressed the door release. “Looks like they’ve come to stay a while.”
Her husband merely snorted and turned the page. For Oleg this was nothing unusual—relatives appeared without warning, and somehow all the hassle of putting them up and feeding them always fell on his wife’s shoulders.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Alyona opened it to see Tatyana with two children—ten-year-old Maxim and eight-year-old Kristina. In her sister-in-law’s hands there was only one sports bag, clearly stuffed with clothes.
“Hi!” Tatyana stepped into the hallway, shrugging off a light jacket. “It was so hot on the train! We barely made it.”
The children stood silently behind their mother, taking in the apartment. Kristina yawned and rubbed her eyes with a fist.
“Come in,” Alyona stepped aside. “Where are your things? Your bags?”
“That’s all we’ve got,” Tatyana waved it off. “We won’t be long. Just a few days. Oh, and everything at the station is so expensive! We didn’t have time to hit the store, the train was leaving.”
Alyona nodded, though something unpleasant twinged inside. A few days with no groceries meant she’d be cooking from whatever was in the fridge. And they’d planned a supermarket run for the weekend.
Oleg came out of the kitchen and hugged his sister.
“How are you? How was the trip?”
“Fine, fine,” Tatyana smiled. “The kids are tired, of course. They’re hungry.”
“I’ll fix something now,” Alyona answered automatically. “Come on in, make yourselves comfortable.”
She led the guests into the living room and quickly cleared magazines and pillows off the couch. Oleg turned on the TV for the kids, then slipped back into the kitchen with his newspaper.
“You don’t mind if we sleep here, do you?” Tatyana sank into an armchair. “The couch looks comfy.”
“Of course,” Alyona nodded. “I’ll bring some linens.”
In the fridge she found chicken she’d planned for tomorrow’s dinner, some vegetables, and some grains. Alyona took out a frying pan and set to work. It was already getting dark outside, and she was so exhausted her hands could barely hold the knife.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Maxim poked his head into the kitchen.
“It’ll be ready in a minute,” Alyona smiled at the boy. “Just hang on.”
Half an hour later plates of fried chicken, rice, and a tomato salad were on the table. Tatyana sat down with the air of a weary traveler entitled to special attention.
“Smells wonderful!” the sister-in-law said, helping herself to a generous portion. “I thought we’d go hungry tonight.”
The children ate silently, focused. Oleg chewed absently, glancing at his phone. Alyona sat and watched the food disappear—the food that was supposed to last two days.
“Thank you, it’s really tasty,” Maxim said, finishing his compote.
“You’re welcome,” Alyona stroked the boy’s head. At least someone said thank you.
After dinner Tatyana settled on the couch with her phone, and the kids scattered around the apartment. Kristina found some old toys in a cabinet and spread them all over the floor. Maxim turned on his tablet and dove into a game.
Alyona cleared the table, washed the dishes, then put the guest linens in the washer. Oleg went to bed, mumbling:
“They’re family. We’ll put up with it for a couple of days.”
By eleven Alyona finally tucked the kids onto the couch and made their bed. Tatyana took the convertible armchair, which had to be pulled out just for her.
“Good night,” Alyona said, turning off the light.
“Night,” her sister-in-law replied. “And thanks for dinner.”
Alyona lay down next to her already-snoring husband. Tomorrow was another workday, which meant an early start. And the guests would be home, needing breakfast, lunch, and dinner—out of whatever was left in the fridge.
In the morning Alyona got up at half past six, as usual. In the kitchen she found Tatyana standing at the open refrigerator, looking displeased.
“What do you have to eat?” the sister-in-law asked. “The kids woke up—they’re hungry.”
“I’ll make breakfast now,” Alyona switched on the kettle. “Do you have any preferences?”
“No, whatever you’ve got,” Tatyana shrugged. “Just something filling for the kids. Maxim doesn’t get full without meat.”
There wasn’t any meat. Alyona fried eggs, sliced the cheese and sausage she’d been saving for the weekend, brewed tea, and set out some cookies. The kids ate with appetite; Tatyana ate slowly, studying what was on her plate.
“What time do you get home from work?” the sister-in-law asked.
“Usually around six-thirty,” Alyona finished her tea standing. “Why?”
“Oh, just wondering. We’ll probably take the kids out for a walk during the day. See the city.”
Oleg ate breakfast in silence and left for work. Alyona got ready and headed to the hospital, leaving the guests at home. All day she was nagged by one thought—what are they eating there? And what will be for dinner?
That evening Alyona returned to find the kitchen a wreck. Crumbs on the table, a sink full of dirty dishes, tea spilled on the stove. Tatyana was sitting in the living room on her phone, the kids watching cartoons.
“How’s it going?” Alyona asked, taking off her coat.
“Fine,” the sister-in-law replied without looking up. “We walked, went to the park. The kids had ice cream.”
“Did you have lunch?”
“We found something in the fridge. Maxim fried some eggs.”
Alyona looked in the fridge. Empty. Completely empty, except for mustard and a jar of jam. She was going to have to make dinner again—with nothing to make it from.
“Oleg,” Alyona called her husband quietly into the bedroom. “We need to go to the store. There’s no food left at all.”
“Then go,” Oleg didn’t lift his eyes from the newspaper. “What’s the problem?”
“The problem is I’ve been feeding your relatives for three days straight out of my paycheck, and they haven’t even said thank you.”
“Why are you making such a fuss?” He finally looked at his wife. “Can’t you put up with it for two days? They’re my niece and nephew.”
“It’s already the third day, Oleg. And no one’s even offered to chip in for groceries.”
“Then ask them.”
“I shouldn’t have to ask! It’s basic courtesy—to come with some groceries or at least offer to go to the store.”
Oleg shrugged and buried himself in the paper again. Conversation over.
Alyona went to the store alone. She spent two thousand rubles on food for everyone. At home she cooked dinner—stewed meat with potatoes. Tatyana ate with gusto and praised her:
“You’re such a good homemaker! You really can cook.”
The children again ate in silence. After dinner Alyona cleaned the kitchen while the guests watched TV.
“Are you planning to go to the store tomorrow?” Alyona asked her sister-in-law carefully.
“Why would I?” Tatyana was surprised. “You cook so well yourself. We wouldn’t manage. And the kids like your food better anyway.”
Alyona nodded and said nothing. Inside, something hot and heavy began to simmer.
On the fourth morning Alyona woke up with a firm decision. She got up, got dressed, and put everything edible from the fridge into her bag—the rest of the cheese, a couple of apples, some cookies. On the shelf she left an open jar of jam, stale bread, and mustard.
Oleg was still asleep. The guests were too. Alyona slipped out of the apartment and went to work.
That evening she came home later than usual. The apartment had a strange stillness, the kind that comes after a storm. The air felt thinned out, as if something important had happened in the mistress’s absence.
In the kitchen, the only thing in the sink was a pot with the remains of boiled water. On the table lay a teaspoon and an empty jam jar, scraped carefully down to the bottom. There were no other signs of cooking.
Oleg sat in the living room looking as if the whole world had turned against him personally. His face was offended, his brows drawn together so tightly a deep crease had formed between them.
“We ate sandwiches all day,” Oleg said as Alyona walked past. “You could’ve at least warned us.”
Alyona calmly took off her coat and hung it in the wardrobe. She didn’t reply. She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge—emptiness, just as expected. Only mustard and the last of the bread.
“Alyona!” Tatyana called from the living room. “I need to talk to you.”
Her sister-in-law came into the kitchen looking resolute. The children sat on the couch, watching cartoons in silence, doing their best not to be noticed.
“I thought you were a proper hostess,” Tatyana began, folding her arms. “And this is how you treat family. It’s not like we come every day. It’s simply improper to leave guests without food.”
Alyona turned and looked at her closely. Tatyana stood there with the air of someone certain she was right.
“If you were too lazy to stop by a store, dear family guests, then I’m too lazy to feed you,” Alyona said quietly, without raising her voice.
“What?!” Tatyana’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely serious.”
“But we’re family!” Tatyana began waving her arms. “Don’t family ties mean anything? Hospitality? And Mom—Mom would never do this! She always had a full table for relatives!”
“Then go to Mom’s,” Alyona said evenly.
“Alyona!” Oleg came into the kitchen. “Maybe you did go a bit too far? You could’ve been softer. They brought the kids, after all.”
Alyona slowly turned to her husband. She looked at him long and hard, as if seeing him for the first time.
“If you want to, go after them,” she said evenly. “But no one is going to live here at my expense. Not anymore. Not ever.”
Oleg opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but his wife had already turned and left for the bedroom. The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Tatyana stood in the kitchen, glancing from the empty fridge to the bedroom door. Then she exhaled heavily and went back to the living room to the children.
“Mom, are we going home?” Kristina asked quietly.
“Yes, we’re going tomorrow,” Tatyana replied curtly.
No one ate breakfast in the morning. Tatyana silently packed the children’s things in the bag, and Maxim and Kristina sat on the couch, ready to leave. Oleg helped carry the luggage to the elevator, but the send-off was wordless. No hugs, no goodbye kisses, no invitations to come again.
“Well, bye,” Tatyana said when the elevator doors opened.
“Bye,” Oleg answered shortly.
The children waved and disappeared behind the closing doors.
For the next two days Oleg crept around the apartment as quiet as a mouse. He cooked himself dumplings from the freezer, carefully washed his dishes, read the newspaper in silence, and watched TV with headphones on. He stole glances at his wife, but didn’t start a conversation.
On the third day he went to the store himself. He brought back two bags of groceries and set them on the kitchen table without comment. From then on, Tatyana’s name wasn’t mentioned in the house.
Alyona returned to her usual rhythm. She cooked exactly for two, with no leftovers. She bought groceries by a list calculated for the week. She wasn’t waiting for anyone and wasn’t adjusting to anyone.
On the weekend Oleg suggested:
“Want to go to the movies?”
“Good idea,” Alyona agreed.
Her husband bought tickets and popcorn; they sat side by side in the theater and watched a comedy. They laughed at the same moments. Then they went to a café and ordered coffee and dessert.
“You know,” Oleg said, stirring sugar in his cup, “I realized something.”
“What?”
“Being related isn’t a reason to violate boundaries.”
Alyona nodded and took a sip of coffee. She didn’t say she’d realized that a long time ago. She just nodded.
A month later Tatyana called Oleg. She wanted to come for the May holidays with the kids. Oleg said he’d think about it and call back. But he didn’t.
Alyona’s fridge no longer turned into a free feeding station for guests. And the food in it was meant only for those who understood a simple truth: respect doesn’t start with blood ties, but with basic courtesy—like stopping by a store before sitting down at someone else’s table.
Alyona no longer tried to be convenient for everyone. And life became much calmer.