“Damn it, I told you in advance!” Tonya was throwing summer dresses into the suitcase as if she were taking revenge on them for everything in the world. “I told you — we had to book in advance! And you: ‘We’ll make it, Tonka, don’t stress!’”
Semyon was silently smoking on the balcony, staring at the gray apartment blocks outside. They’d been planning this vacation for six months. Crimea, the sea, quiet… And now — no sea, just these brazen relatives.
“Son, your aunt is coming today with her family, so forget about the sea!” his mother had announced right from the doorway, barely even saying hello.
Galina Stepanovna had appeared in their apartment as she always did — suddenly and categorically. Plastic bags in her hands, and on her face that expression Tonya mentally called, “I’ve already decided everything for you.”
“Mom, what are you doing?” Semyon stubbed his cigarette out on the railing. “We’ve got tickets bought, the hotel is booked…”
“What am I doing? Aunt Nadya is coming with her grandchildren, they have nowhere to stay. They’re blood relatives! And the sea…” She waved a hand. “The sea isn’t going anywhere.”
Tonya felt something inside her twist into a tight knot. For eleven months she’d been putting money aside from every paycheck. Counting every penny, denying herself new boots, skipping outings to cafés with friends. All for the sake of those two weeks at the sea.
“Galina Stepanovna,” Tonya’s voice sounded too even, which was always a bad sign, “did you at least warn them that we’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Oh come on, dear girl! What sea, when the family is getting together?” Her mother-in-law was already spreading groceries out on the kitchen table. “We have to welcome relatives properly.”
“Properly?” Tonya came out of the bedroom, clutching her half-packed swimsuit in her hands. “And what’s the proper way to ask the owners before you move someone into their place?”
Galina Stepanovna straightened up, and something dangerous flashed in her eyes.
“Have you forgotten whose apartment this is? And whose son this is?”
“Mom, that’s enough!” Semyon came in from the balcony, but his voice didn’t have the firmness Tonya had been counting on.
And then everything spun like a bad dream. Aunt Nadya arrived — a plump, loud woman of about fifty — with two grown children and three grandchildren. The apartment instantly turned into a train station hall.
“Tonechka, darling!” Aunt Nadya hugged her so tightly that the crack of her vertebrae could probably be heard in the next room. “How good that you didn’t go anywhere! Otherwise we’d never have seen each other!”
The kids were racing through the hallway shrieking, the adults were loudly discussing politics in the kitchen, and Tonya stood in the middle of her bedroom staring at the suitcase with clothes for the seaside.
“Tonya, don’t sulk,” Semyon tried to hug her, but she pulled away. “Come on, we’ll just wait out a week…”
“A week?” She turned to him, and for the first time in a long while he saw something cold in her eyes. “And how do you know it’ll be just a week?”
He didn’t know. No one knew.
Aunt Nadya and her brood settled into their apartment thoroughly. The fridge was emptying at hurricane speed, the TV didn’t go silent for a second, and there was always someone splashing around in the bathroom.
On the third day, at dinner, Aunt Nadya suddenly said:
“You know what, my dears? Let’s all go to the seaside together! What a company we’d make!”
Tonya choked on her borscht.
“What do you mean — all together?” she asked once she’d coughed it out.
“Well, you were going anyway, you’ve got the tickets…” Aunt Nadya beamed. “And we’ll go with you! It’s so good for the children to be at the sea!”
“Nadya is right,” Galina Stepanovna nodded. “Family has to stay together.”
Semyon sat there silently, chewing his bread. Tonya looked at him and understood — he had already given up. As always, when it came to his mother and relatives.
“And the money for travel? For accommodation?” Tonya asked quietly.
“Oh, Tonechka,” Aunt Nadya waved her hand, “we’re family! What are a few pennies… Semyon will help, he’s the man!”
And they went. All of them. Nine people in two rooms that Tonya had booked for a romantic vacation for two.
The very first day at the sea turned into a nightmare. The kids screamed for ice cream every half hour. Aunt Nadya and her daughter were loudly discussing the private lives of other vacationers. And when it came time for lunch…
“Semyon,” Aunt Nadya laid a hand on his shoulder, “you’ll treat us in this nice little café, won’t you?”
Semyon glanced at the prices on the menu, then at Tonya. She was sitting turned toward the sea, her shoulders tense like a bowstring.
“Of course, Aunt Nadya,” he said.
And in the evening, when the bill for dinner for nine people at the restaurant turned out to be more than their monthly salary, something in Semyon finally snapped.
“That’s it!” He stood up so abruptly that the chairs scraped across the tiles. “Enough!”
Aunt Nadya froze with her wineglass halfway to her mouth. The children fell silent. Even the sea outside the restaurant window seemed to grow quieter.
“Semyon, dear, what’s wrong?” Aunt Nadya arranged an expression of innocence on her face. “We’re having such a good time…”
“Good?” Semyon’s voice was quiet, but Tonya knew that was when he was most dangerous. “Tell me, Aunt Nadya, how much money have you spent in these three days?”
“Oh now, sweetie…” She laughed uneasily. “We’re your guests…”
“Guests?” Semyon took a notebook from his pocket — the one he always carried with him — and started reading: “Breakfast for nine — four thousand. Ice cream and drinks at the beach — one and a half thousand. Lunch — five and a half. Dinner — seven thousand two hundred. And that’s just today!”
Aunt Nadya’s face went from pink to white, then to red.
“Semyon, in front of the children…” she hissed.
“In front of the children!” He slapped the notebook down on the table. “And in front of the children you’re showing them how to live at someone else’s expense! How to shamelessly use people!”
The eldest grandson, a guy of about twenty who hadn’t looked up from his phone all evening, suddenly raised his head.
“Hey, man, what’s your problem? We’re family…”
“Family?” Semyon turned to him. “Have you said ‘thank you’ even once? Ever offered to pay at least for yourself?”
“Semyon!” That was now Aunt Nadya’s daughter, a woman of about thirty with slicked-down hair. “You’ve got some nerve! Mom came to you with such kindness, and you—”
“With kindness?” Tonya couldn’t stand it anymore. She got up next to her husband, and there was so much fury in her voice that the waiter at the neighboring table looked over. “You showed up uninvited, ruined our vacation, and now you’re stuffing yourselves at our expense! That’s kindness?”
“Tonechka,” Aunt Nadya tried to sound conciliatory, “we didn’t mean to… We just thought…”
“Thought what?” Tonya leaned across the table toward her. “That Semyon is a cash cow? That we’re obliged to support you?”
“How dare you!” Aunt Nadya jumped to her feet. “I carried him in my arms! Galina Stepanovna will hear about this!”
“Oh, she will!” Semyon pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her right now and tell her how much your ‘family warmth’ costs!”
He started dialing, but Aunt Nadya grabbed his hand.
“Don’t! Semyon, please… We didn’t mean it…”
“Didn’t mean it?” Tonya laughed bitterly. “You accidentally ordered lobsters? Accidentally insisted on the most expensive wine on the list?”
The youngest granddaughter suddenly burst into tears. Then another child started crying. The people at the neighboring tables were now openly staring at their scandal.
“That’s it,” Semyon put his credit card on the table. “This is the last time. Tomorrow you go home. On your own money.”
“What are you talking about?” shrieked Aunt Nadya’s daughter. “We have vouchers for the whole week!”
“What vouchers?” Tonya asked sweetly. “You’re our guests, remember?”
“We wanted to bring the children to the sea for their health!” Aunt Nadya played her last card. “The doctor said they needed the sea!”
“And the doctor said it had to be at my expense?” Semyon signed the receipt without looking at her. “Strange doctor.”
When they returned to the room, a real family hurricane broke out. Aunt Nadya sobbed into the phone, complaining to Galina Stepanovna. The kids were racing along the hotel corridor, loudly demanding attention. Aunt Nadya’s daughter was furiously typing angry messages into the family chat.
And Tonya sat on the balcony, looked out at the black sea — and for the first time in a long time she smiled.
“Don’t you regret it?” Semyon asked, sitting down next to her.
“Regret what?”
“That the vacation is ruined…”
Tonya looked at him — at this forty-year-old man who had finally found the courage to say “no” to his own family.
“You know,” she said, “I think our vacation is only just beginning.”
In the morning, Aunt Nadya and her clan packed in silence and with sour faces. Galina Stepanovna called every half hour, demanding an explanation. But Semyon simply turned off his phone.
“They’ll get home — then we’ll talk,” he said, helping to load the suitcases into the taxi.
The farewell was icy. Aunt Nadya muttered something about ingratitude, her daughter ostentatiously refused to shake hands, and the grandchildren slammed the car doors.
When the taxi disappeared around the corner, Semyon and Tonya stood by the hotel entrance. Alone. Finally alone.
“Tonya,” he took her hand, “I…”
“Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Let’s just go to the beach. We still have four days.”
Four days they had earned.
But the story didn’t end there. Because Galina Stepanovna was already preparing a counterattack…
The call came on the third day of their “new” vacation. Semyon was sunbathing on the beach, Tonya was reading under an umbrella, and for the first time in a week they felt like people, not service staff.
“Semyon Viktorovich?” an unfamiliar female voice sounded official in the receiver. “This is the administration of the Zolotoy Bereg hotel. We have a question for you…”
“I’m listening,” Semyon frowned.
“You see, a group of people arrived today claiming that you’ve paid for their stay. They’re demanding to be checked into your rooms…”
Semyon felt a chill run down his spine.
“What group?”
“Nine people. Led by a woman named Galina Stepanovna. She said she’s your mother…”
“Oh no!” Semyon jumped up off the lounger. “Tonya! Tonya, get ready, quick!”
“What happened?” Tonya put her book aside.
“My mother’s here. With Aunt Nadya. The whole crowd!”
They rushed back to the hotel, but it was already too late. In the lobby they walked into a scene worthy of a theater of the absurd.
Galina Stepanovna, dressed in her best suit and fully made up, was waving her passport under the nose of a frightened receptionist. Aunt Nadya was sobbing in an armchair, wiping her tears with a handkerchief. The children were running between suitcases, and Aunt Nadya’s daughter was furiously tapping away at her phone.
“This is outrageous!” shouted Galina Stepanovna. “I’m the mother! The mother! And they won’t let me see my own son!”
“Mom, what are you doing?” Semyon walked up to the desk.
“Ah! Son!” She rushed to hug him. “Finally! And this girl here says the rooms are occupied!”
“They are occupied. By us,” Tonya said dryly.
“Tonechka, dear!” Aunt Nadya jumped up from the armchair. “We decided to forgive you! And came to make peace!”
“Forgive us?” Semyon was on the edge. “For what, exactly, are you forgiving us?”
“Well, you know,” Galina Stepanovna shook her head reproachfully, “you behaved so badly with your relatives…”
“Grandma, where are our rooms?” whined the youngest grandson. “I want to go to the sea!”
“Soon, sweetheart, soon…” Aunt Nadya stroked his head. “Uncle Semyon will settle us in right now…”
“Uncle Semyon isn’t going to settle anyone in!” exploded Semyon. “Have you completely lost your minds?”
At that moment a security guard came into the lobby — a big guy with a serious face.
“Excuse me, but I was told there was a disturbance…”
“There’s no disturbance!” babbled Galina Stepanovna. “We’re just a family that wants to relax together!”
“And who will be paying for the rooms?” the receptionist asked.
Everyone looked at Semyon. He felt like a trapped animal.
“No one!” he said loudly. “Because I didn’t invite these people!”
“What do you mean you didn’t invite us?” Galina Stepanovna put on an expression of horror. “A son didn’t invite his own mother?”
“Mom, we’re on our honeymoon!” Semyon lied. “We got married again!”
Tonya almost choked. Aunt Nadya gasped. The kids stared at them with interest.
“What honeymoon?” Galina Stepanovna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You’ve been married ten years!”
“We remarried!” Semyon stuck to his story. “For love! We wanted to be alone!”
“Oh really!” The receptionist lit up. “How romantic! Congratulations to the newlyweds!”
“Thank you,” Tonya quickly picked up the game. “We’ve been dreaming of peace and quiet…”
Aunt Nadya looked at them doubtfully, then suddenly clapped her hands.
“Nadya, do you remember how you and your Uncle Vasya got married a second time too? After that fight with the neighbors…”
“Oh, don’t remind me!” Galina Stepanovna waved a hand. “We didn’t speak for six months after that…”
“Mom, let’s not do this,” Aunt Nadya’s daughter tugged her sleeve. “Let’s go look for other rooms…”
But then something unexpected happened. The eldest grandson — the same one who always sat glued to his phone — decided to impress the receptionist. He sauntered up to the desk, leaned on it, and said in his most seductive voice:
“Hey, beautiful, maybe you can find us a little place? I’ll make it worth your while later…”
The girl gave him an icy look.
“Sir, don’t try to charm me. There are no available rooms.”
“Oh, come on!” He tried to wink, but it came out crooked. “I’m not some loser… I’ve got cash!”
And to prove it, he pulled a crumpled thousand-ruble note from his pocket and tossed it onto the desk.
“Is that enough?”
The receptionist looked at the money, then at him.
“Enough for what? Ice cream?”
“What do you mean, ice cream?” he sputtered. “That’s a thousand!”
“Young man,” she explained patiently, “the cheapest room here is five thousand a night. For one person.”
The grandson’s face fell. Aunt Nadya went pale. Galina Stepanovna started doing frantic mental math.
“Five thousand a night?” she repeated faintly. “So for all of us… nine people… per day…”
“Forty-five thousand a day,” the receptionist confirmed. “Plus breakfast — one thousand per person. That’s fifty-four thousand a day.”
The silence that followed was so deep you could hear a TV playing in a room somewhere upstairs.
“And for a week…” whispered Aunt Nadya’s daughter, fumbling with her calculator.
“Three hundred and seventy-eight thousand,” the receptionist said quickly. “Plus taxes…”
Aunt Nadya swayed and grabbed the armchair. Galina Stepanovna sat right down on a suitcase.
“Maybe there’s something cheaper?” Aunt Nadya’s daughter asked plaintively. “Like a hostel?”
“The nearest hostel is two hundred kilometers from here,” the receptionist replied. “And it’s full too. It is high season.”
The youngest grandson started to whimper.
“Grandma, why can’t we stay with Uncle Semyon?”
“Because Uncle Semyon is on his honeymoon!” snapped Galina Stepanovna.
“What’s a honeymoon?” asked the middle grandson.
“It’s when grown-ups want to be without kids!” explained the eldest, still reeling from the financial shock.
The kids looked at each other and burst into loud sobs.
Chaos broke out in the lobby. Aunt Nadya rushed between the suitcases, lamenting the money spent on the trip. Her daughter was on the phone, desperately trying to find any sort of accommodation. The kids were demanding ice cream and the sea. And Galina Stepanovna sat on the suitcase, breathing heavily.
“Mom, do you want some water?” Semyon asked anxiously.
“I’m not your mom!” she glared at him. “You’ve driven your own mother to a heart attack!”
“Galina Stepanovna,” Tonya crouched down beside her, “maybe it really would be better if you went home? You can rest at the dacha, in peace and quiet…”
“What dacha?” wailed Aunt Nadya. “We sold the dacha to come here!”
“You sold it?” Semyon gasped.
“And what did you think?” snapped Galina Stepanovna. “What were we supposed to travel on? We thought you’d be paying for us!”
Tonya and Semyon exchanged glances. The situation was becoming more absurd by the second.
At that moment, a man in an expensive suit walked up to the desk.
“Excuse me, what’s going on here? My room is right above this lobby, and there’s such a noise…”
“I’m terribly sorry,” the receptionist flustered. “We’ll sort it out right away…”
“Would you maybe like to rent a room cheaper?” piped up Aunt Nadya’s daughter. “We’ve got this situation…”
The man gave their group a once-over — rumpled Galina Stepanovna on the suitcase, weeping Aunt Nadya, screaming kids — and quickly backed away.
“No, no, everything suits me just fine…”
“Or maybe you could take us in with you?” she persisted. “We’ll be quiet, just to spend the night…”
“Daughter!” hissed Aunt Nadya. “What are you saying!”
But it was too late. The security guard was already heading toward them with a stern look.
“That’s it,” Semyon said. “The circus is over. Mom, take a taxi and go to the station. You too, Aunt Nadya.”
“And money for the tickets?” asked Aunt Nadya plaintively.
Semyon pulled out his wallet and counted out several notes.
“It’ll be enough for the tickets. Goodbye.”
“Semyon,” Galina Stepanovna got up from the suitcase, “you’re not really going to throw your own mother out?”
“I’m not throwing you out. I’m seeing you off,” he said firmly. “With love — but I’m seeing you off.”
Half an hour later the hotel lobby was quiet again. The relatives had gone to the station — displeased, but defeated by economic reality.
And Semyon and Tonya went back to the beach.
“You know,” Tonya said, settling onto her lounger, “I finally understand why paid vacations were invented.”
“How so?” Semyon was rubbing on sunscreen.
“As a natural defense against relatives. Better than any fence.”
They both laughed, and their laughter floated over the sea — light and free.
And on the train that, three hours later, was taking the uninvited guests home, Aunt Nadya was complaining to fellow passengers:
“Can you imagine what people are like now! They won’t even let their own relatives stay! And we came to them with such love…”
The fellow passengers nodded sympathetically, not knowing that the day before this same “loving” relative had demanded her nephew pay for a vacation worth nearly half a million rubles.
As for Semyon and Tonya, they spent the rest of their vacation exactly as they’d dreamed — together, in peace and quiet. And when they came home, the first thing they did was change the locks on the door.
Just in case.