And where are we supposed to sleep?”
“Looks like almost everything’s ready,” Maya set her planner aside. There was very little time left before the wedding, and the to-do list that had seemed impossibly long had finally shrunk to a few items. “All that’s left is to pick up the dress and suit from the tailor, the bouquet, and confirm the number of guests for the banquet.”
“Yeah, about that…” Kostya gave his fiancée a puzzled look. “Mom forgot about some guests… looks like we’ll have to order a couple more salads and main courses.”
“Two more or two less… it won’t make a big difference at this point. Our budget’s already burst its banks!” Maya sighed. She and Kostya had planned to spend a bit less on the wedding, but as often happens with events, unexpected expenses had popped up that no one had anticipated.
“I think so too. Either way, we’ll have to borrow from friends.”
“I hope people give us money and not dinnerware sets,” Maya laughed. She didn’t want to start married life in debt. The couple was lucky they didn’t need a mortgage—Maya’s parents had given them a one-bedroom apartment as an engagement present, making their future life together much easier.
“We can count our rich relatives on one hand, but I still think the wedding will pay for itself. Otherwise I don’t know what the point of all this is!”
“Kostya, we’ve talked about this. I dreamed of a wedding, so I need it. And my parents need it. And yours, by the way, too…” Maya nodded toward the guest list. Most of the relatives were from the groom’s side.
“I’d rather fly to the sea than do all… this.”
“There’ll be time for that,” the bride smiled. “Maybe the wedding will not only pay for itself, but we’ll have enough left over for a vacation.”
Kostya didn’t answer, just snorted indulgently. They set wedding matters aside and began watching a movie. The next day, as they were about to head to the restaurant to confirm the order, his mother called and reminded him about the forgotten relatives.
“The Ivanovs are coming.”
“The Ivanovs?”
“Yes. On your father’s side, a third cousin.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Your father says it is.”
“Then why weren’t they at his birthday?” Kostya asked the obvious question.
“Because they live far outside the city. They canceled at the last minute, saying they had nowhere to stay.”
“And what’s changed now?”
“I don’t know, son, I’m just passing along your father’s request. You need to order for six more people.”
“The Ivanovs are coming as a whole crowd?!” Kostya tensed up. He realized a couple of extra main courses wouldn’t cut it. Six people over the limit was serious money.
“The Ivanovs—Anna and Mikhail—and their two adult sons with their wives. They’ll all be there. And possibly also Lada, Shura, and Tyoma.”
“Who’s that?”
“The children… but they can have a separate table—small portions, they’re toddlers, about three years old.”
“We didn’t plan for children, and the restaurant doesn’t have a kids’ menu.”
“You’re paying that kind of money for the banquet! Let the chef figure something out!” his mother wouldn’t let up. “And anyway, I said the kids are a maybe. So don’t order for them yet.”
“I have to submit the full order now. Today’s the deadline.”
“Fine. Your father will find out right now.”
When the couple arrived at the restaurant, Kostya’s father, Stepan Dmitrievich, called.
“Hello, son, it’s me. So, the Ivanovs will come without the kids.”
“Are they definitely coming themselves? We’re not that close…” Kostya began.
“Definitely. Aunt Anya said they won’t miss your wedding. They were very sorry to have missed my birthday, but this time they’re set on being there. By the way, son, about their trip. I promised they could stay at your place.”
“At our place?!” Kostya repeated.
“Yes. In your new apartment.”
“And where are we supposed to sleep?” Kostya was stunned; he even wondered if his father was joking.
“What do you mean, where? You two were going to the hotel after the wedding anyway. They’re giving you the honeymoon suite, I heard.”
“We wanted to decline the room in exchange for a discount on the bridal prep package. We don’t need a room for a full day, just for the photos. Besides, the honeymoon suite they offered is already taken, and we don’t like the standard room. Our place is better.”
“Better or not, you’ll spend one night there, nothing will happen. Your apartment isn’t going anywhere; you’ll have plenty of time to live in it—get tired of it, even. You should be thanking me for suggesting you go to a hotel after the wedding. In the morning you’ll wake up, breakfast in bed, no worries. Sleep, eat…”
Stepan Dmitrievich sounded very persuasive; even Kostya started to waver.
“I don’t know, Dad. I need to talk to Maya. It’s not my apartment alone.”
“And that’s how you’ll spend your whole life—like a guest! You need to tell your wife right off who’s the man of the house! The apartment was a gift to both of you for the engagement, remember that. And you, by the way, have put in a lot already. Who bought the bedroom furniture? You did. Who ordered the kitchen? You did. So the apartment is shared. From now on, everything is shared with Maya, remember.”
“Why can’t the Ivanovs stay with you?” Kostya clarified.
“We’ve got the Petrovs staying with us. Didn’t your mother tell you?”
“Wait, but we didn’t order for the Petrovs… You said their grandmother got sick and they weren’t coming!”
“They found a caregiver; they can’t miss your wedding.”
“Okay. Stop. I’m lost. How many will there be?”
“Four people.”
“So I need to order not six extra seats, but ten?!” Kostya began to get angry.
“Not extra, son—very necessary. The Ivanovs are wealthy relatives. I’ve seen the house they built in their settlement—a full-on mansion. After Misha was appointed director, he’s been raking in money with a shovel. So don’t doubt they’ll give good gifts. That’s why I want to put them up with you, so they don’t waste money on a hotel and give more. I’m looking out for you.”
“I see…”
“And the Petrovs recently sold their grandmother’s house—they’ve got money too, so expect good gifts. Anyway, keep it in mind. And don’t embarrass me in front of the family. They know your fiancée is well-off, and you’re not just some junior—you’re a senior manager; the family knows everything about us. We can’t disgrace ourselves. We have to show we live well.”
Kostya didn’t reply. He really didn’t like his father’s attitude. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to argue. So he got out of the car and went into the restaurant, where his bride was waiting.
“Well? Decided?” she asked.
“Yeah. We need ten more.”
“But that’s… so many!” Maya gasped.
“I’m just as surprised. But… there’s no way around it.”
They negotiated a discount, but they still had to give up some hall décor that Maya had really wanted.
“We’ll put artificial flowers instead of fresh ones—no big deal. The main thing is that the table is properly set.”
“Fine. I hope your Ivanovs come with gifts,” Maya sighed.
“And also… I thought maybe we shouldn’t refuse the hotel room.”
“Why?”
“It’s more convenient. And it’s customary, I think. Hardly anyone spends their first wedding night at home.” Kostya looked away, and Maya realized he wasn’t telling her something.
“Okay, I agree—but only if you tell me honestly what changed your mind.”
“Dad asked to put some guests up at our place.”
“What?!”
“They’re coming six strong. They’ve got nowhere to stay.”
“How about we offer them a hotel?”
“A standard room for three families? That’s ridiculous. At home we’ve got the kitchen sofa and the bed in the bedroom. Someone can sleep on a mattress on the floor. In a standard room they’d have to sleep on top of each other like sardines. It’s tiny.”
“Let them pay for another room. Why is your relatives’ arrival our problem?”
“I don’t know, Maya. I’m just passing along my father’s request. If you’re against it, I’ll call him and say so. Those Ivanovs… you know how I feel.”
“Fine, I don’t want to ruin things with my father-in-law. Let your Ivanovs come—with gifts.”
Kostya was delighted. He kissed his fiancée and hurried to call his father.
“We agree. They can stay with us.”
“Good,” said Stepan Dmitrievich. He hadn’t expected the daughter-in-law to refuse anyway. Maya was kind and soft-spoken—a perfect match for Kostya.
The wedding day snuck up on them. The bride was very nervous. She wanted everything to be perfect. Luckily, her bridesmaids were wonderful and helped her get ready.
They were given an ordinary room, but with a beautiful view of the city center. It was convenient for the photo shoot and the preparations; they didn’t have to drive around town. The restaurant was nearby, too.
The celebration started on time. The host was cheerful and energetic. Only the Ivanovs were late.
And when they finally arrived, the evening took on new shades and variety. It turned out the family had brought their toddlers after all.
“Where’s the kids’ table? Where’s the animator?” Aunt Anya asked instead of saying hello. “We’re exhausted and hungry from the road.”
“We didn’t know you’d be bringing children,” the bride faltered.
“How’s that? If the family is invited, then the whole family. When Kostya was little, we never separated him from the family. Any holiday—come all of you, we’ll be glad to see you.”
“Of course you’re welcome. We’ll figure something out,” Maya was well organized and well mannered. So she rushed to fulfill the guests’ wishes. They urgently needed to arrange a kids’ table and ask the chef to feed the little ones something. As a result, instead of accepting congratulations, Maya spent part of her wedding running between the Ivanovs’ table and the kitchen. She might have kept doing it longer if her mother and mother-in-law hadn’t stepped in.
“Go to the groom, Maya. We’ll handle it,” they said.
“Thank you…”
The moms really did sort everything out, Maya became a bride again instead of an event planner, and she finally relaxed a little.
When it was the Ivanovs’ turn to congratulate the couple, they all piled onto the stage and started singing.
“Does Uncle Misha have musical training?” Maya asked doubtfully.
“No, he finished music school for accordion. But he didn’t sing well even back then. I’m not close with them, but I remember visiting with my parents and they’d sing. It was awful.”
“And besides the song, will there be a gift?” Maya asked the groom.
“I hope so.”
The Ivanovs didn’t disappoint.
“We decided that in your new apartment you’ll need… a microwave!” Uncle Misha carried it out as if it were a set of car keys.
“Thank you…” Kostya’s spirits dipped. They already had a microwave, and a much better one at that. It was obvious the guests hadn’t spent much, choosing the cheapest model.
“And also, for good luck,” Aunt Anya winked, handing over an envelope. It was a plain, sealed mailer. It felt wrong to tear it open right there, so Maya set it with the other gifts and forgot about it for a while.
The Ivanovs weren’t the only ones to show creativity. The newlyweds acquired several towels, a couple of dish sets, and a variety of household “essentials.” Someone even gifted a ficus, apparently deciding the couple absolutely needed it.
By the end of the wedding, the newlyweds were dead on their feet.
“If I had to sleep in the restaurant, I’d pass out there,” Maya said. She was so exhausted she didn’t care where they slept.
Morning was kind. The couple made up for lost time and, content, sat down to breakfast.
“We’ve got a late checkout. We can laze around some more,” Kostya winked.
“Shouldn’t we tell your relatives what time we’re coming back?” Maya asked.
“Oh, they’re probably getting ready to go home already,” Kostya didn’t want to be distracted, and the newlyweds only came to their senses half an hour before checkout.
“Time to go…”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call a taxi.”
“Hold on,” Kostya turned on his phone and immediately got several messages from his father.
“Call me.”
“Looks like Dad called…”
“I hope nothing happened to our apartment…”
“Me too.”
He quickly dialed his father, and Stepan Dmitrievich picked up almost right away.
“Son, how is it? Nice hotel? There’s some issue with the stove… call Aunt Anya yourself. Here’s her number.”
“We’ll sort out the stove ourselves… we’re just about to check out.”
“Where to?”
“Home, where else?”
“What about the guests? They asked to stay another day or two. They haven’t been to Moscow in a long time; they want to walk around and show the city to the kids.”
“And where are we supposed to go?”
“Extend the room. You’re newlyweds—you’re entitled to a discount.”
“We didn’t plan to spend on a hotel. We have our own place!”
“So what do you want me to do, throw them out?”
“I don’t know, Dad. But we’re going home.”
Maya looked at her husband. She had never seen Kostya this irritated. Any romantic afterglow vanished after his talk with his father.
“So? The Ivanovs?” Maya frowned.
“Yeah. Decided to vacation at our expense.”
“Cute.”
They looked at each other, trying to decide what to do.
Maya reached into her purse and, rummaging around, pulled out the very same “good luck” envelope from the Ivanovs.
“I wonder how much the rich relatives gave us. Maybe we can live in a hotel for a month or two?” She tore the envelope open and peeked inside. Then she started laughing so hard tears streamed down her face.
“What is it? A million in a single note?” Kostya guessed.
“Higher. A billion. Here, feast your eyes.”
“Sure enough. A billion,” Kostya pulled from the envelope a lottery ticket that read, “Your chance to win a billion.”
“This is just amazing. A microwave and a 150-ruble lottery ticket from six people. The rich relatives really lived up to expectations.”
“I’m sorry, Maya. I didn’t think it would be like this.”
“What do you have to do with it?” She hugged her husband. “All right, don’t worry—let’s go home. You have to meet nerve with nerve. Right?”
“Right.”
Uncle Misha opened the door. He was very surprised the couple had returned so quickly.
“What, are the capital’s hotels so bad you rushed back to your modest one-bedroom?” he quipped.
“Your own walls are dearer,” Kostya replied. “Don’t you think?”
“Of course they are.”
“Seems like it’s time for you to head home too.”
“But we haven’t had our fill of visiting yet! We were hoping to stay a week or two. We scheduled our vacation so we wouldn’t have to rush anywhere. Well, if you’ve got nowhere to crash, we’ll inflate another mattress. Not sure where to put it, though. Looks like you’ll have to sleep in the entryway. But it’s fine—tight quarters, warm hearts.”
Maya was stunned by Mikhail’s logic. He genuinely thought the newlyweds would sleep on the floor in the hall for two weeks while they spent their vacation in the couple’s “modest” one-bedroom.
“Uncle Misha, here’s what we were thinking. Since you’re on vacation, we’ll throw the second day of the wedding at your cottage. And the third, while we’re at it. Hand over the keys.”
“How’s that supposed to work?”
“Like this. Not all our friends could make it yesterday. We were going to rent a house, but since your cottage is free, we’ll invite everyone there. Maya, call the guys. Uncle Misha, give me the address. Do you have a sauna and a pool?”
“No…”
“That’s okay, it’ll do anyway. Our friends don’t need a pool once they’ve had a few. A garden hose will be just fine. Then we’ll have a disco. Valera works as a DJ. He promised to set up speakers in the yard. Your neighbors decent? Call them right now, tell them to buy earplugs—they won’t sleep for a week, the newlyweds are coming to party!”
Maya nodded. She took out her phone and pretended to dial her friend.
“Give us the address; we’ve booked a bus for seven so we can all come to you—save money. Our people, right?”
Mikhail listened, but didn’t hand over the keys.
“Anya, I just remembered I have to go to work… urgently… tomorrow. Pack up, we’re heading home.”
“How home?” Aunt Anya’s daughter-in-law stepped out of the bathroom.
“We’ll explain on the way. Get the kids and let’s go. We’re leaving in 10 minutes.” Mikhail no longer looked relaxed. He pulled on his jacket and, after apologizing, went to warm up the car.
“Sorry, we’d love to stay, but given the situation… you go to the place you booked. We’ve got nowhere to stay, and the kids are little—you understand, it’s no time for parties,” Aunt Anya said, stuffing into her bag the food they’d taken from the wedding and hadn’t finished.
“Well… that’s a shame, but we understand. All the best,” Kostya said goodbye.
“Oh, I forgot to mention. We put the new microwave in place of your old one. The new one fits your interior much better… but…”
“What?”
“It doesn’t work. Must be defective.”
Maya looked at Aunt Anya.
“And what are we supposed to do with it?”
“Return it to the store. They should exchange it. The receipt is in the box; the box is in the kitchen. Well then, we’re off. Congratulations again,” the aunt said and left, taking the bag of provisions with her.
“Wow…” Kostya muttered while Maya went to the kitchen.
“So where’s our old microwave?”
“I hope they didn’t throw it out.”
While Kostya looked for the old unit, Maya turned the knob, examined the microwave, and realized why it “wasn’t working.”
“They didn’t think to plug it in. Unbelievable…”
Kostya hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time. The microwave worked, but it was very small and inconvenient. So the couple decided to return it anyway.
There were no additional celebrations; Maya had made up the cottage story, figuring it was the only way to get rid of the relatives. And her plan worked.
“When are we winning the billion?” she asked, watching Kostya examine the ticket.
“Tomorrow.”
“Then we’ve still got time for something more interesting,” she smiled, and the newlyweds disappeared into the bedroom.