— “Do you know what kind of apartment you’re going to buy them? At least three rooms — you can afford it!”
Marina Petrovna slowly set the kettle down on the table, careful not to splash the boiling water, and looked at the woman who was about to become her co-in-law. Valentina Sergeyevna sat sprawled in a wicker chair, waving a napkin like a fan even though the evening was cool. Cheap rings glinted on her plump fingers, and her eyes sparkled with greedy excitement.
— “And choose a better district, not some outlying edge of town. Downtown, or at least near it. The infrastructure is better there, and it’s more prestigious. My Andryusha deserves to live in good conditions!”
It all started three weeks earlier, when Katya came running home with shining eyes and a ring on her finger. Marina Petrovna was sincerely happy for her daughter — Andrey seemed like a decent young man: hardworking, no bad habits. A week later the couple filed their application at the registry office, and the question of introducing the parents arose.
— “Let’s meet at our place,” Marina Petrovna suggested to the future in-law over the phone. “We have plenty of space, a gazebo in the yard, and a grill. It’s August — the weather is beautiful.”
— “Well, if you insist…” Valentina Sergeyevna drawled into the receiver, as if she were doing them a tremendous favor.
Marina Petrovna and her husband Viktor prepared thoroughly. They set the table in the gazebo — salads, meat on the grill, homemade pickles and preserves. Viktor went out to buy good wine, and Marina baked her signature apple pie.
The future in-laws arrived in an old sedan. Valentina Sergeyevna stepped out first — a heavyset woman of about fifty-five in a bright dress covered in large roses. Her husband came after her: a quiet man in a wrinkled shirt who said maybe ten sentences the entire evening.
— “Wow, what a house!” Valentina Sergeyevna blurted out instead of greeting them, sweeping her gaze over the two-story brick mansion. “Did you build it yourselves, or buy it ready-made?”
— “Good evening, come in,” Marina Petrovna said, choosing to ignore the tactlessness. “Katya, Andrey — come greet your parents.”
But Valentina Sergeyevna was already walking across the property, inspecting the flowerbeds and the greenhouse.
— “How many acres is this? How much did you pay for the land? And what’s that — two cars in the garage?”
At the table it got even worse. Valentina Sergeyevna methodically questioned them about the price of everything she saw — from the gazebo to the garden furniture. When Viktor offered to show the house from the inside, she jumped up first.
— “Oh my, what a kitchen! That must cost three hundred thousand at least! And the refrigerator — one-fifty?”
Marina Petrovna felt Katya turning red. Andrey looked embarrassed too; he tried to steer the conversation back to the wedding, but his mother kept cutting him off.
— “Forget the wedding for a second — I want to see everything first! What’s this, heated floors? Lord, where do people get this kind of money?”
In the living room Valentina Sergeyevna sat down on the sofa and started rubbing the upholstery between her fingers.
— “Is this real leather? We wanted a leather sofa too, but no chance — prices are insane. Lucky you, you’ve got so much money you don’t even know what to do with it!”
— “We’ve just been saving for a long time,” Marina Petrovna tried to explain.
— “Saving, sure! You can’t save up for this! This house is worth fifteen million, at least!”
They went back to the gazebo. Marina Petrovna noticed the guests had come empty-handed — no box of chocolates, no bottle of wine, not even flowers. Valentina Sergeyevna didn’t seem the least bit ashamed. She ate with gusto, praised the salads, and at the same time complained that they could never afford food like this.
— “We’ve got a two-room flat in a panel building — the place is forty years old. We did the renovation when Andryusha started school. And here you probably have fancy European-style renovations in every room!”
Viktor silently poured more wine. His patience seemed endless, but Marina could see the muscle in his jaw twitching.
Two weeks of relative calm passed after that meeting. Marina Petrovna had already started to forget the unpleasant aftertaste of the introduction when the phone rang.
— “Marina, it’s me — Valentina. We need to meet and discuss the gifts for the kids.”
— “What gifts?” Marina Petrovna blurted out, stunned.
— “What do you mean, what gifts? For the wedding! Parents have to take care of their children. When are we meeting?”
— “I haven’t thought about it yet. I should talk to Katya, see what they need most…”
— “Why talk to them?” Valentina Sergeyevna cut her off. “Young people don’t understand anything! We, the parents, should decide everything. So — we’re giving them a car!”
— “A car?” Marina Petrovna repeated in surprise. “That’s an expensive gift.”
— “We’re not stingy people!” Valentina Sergeyevna declared. “We’ll give them our Lada. It’s only nineteen years old — it’ll still run! And you’ll give them an apartment. It’s not hard for you — you live richer than we do!”
Marina Petrovna went speechless. Valentina Sergeyevna continued cheerfully into the phone:
— “Just make sure the apartment is decent — not some one-room shoebox. They’ll be raising children! Minimum two rooms, preferably three. In a good district, so it’s convenient for Andryusha to get to work.”
— “Valentina Sergeyevna,” Marina Petrovna finally forced out, “you’re offering an old car, and you expect an apartment from us?”
— “What’s wrong with that? The car runs — we drive it every day! We just want to buy a new one for ourselves, and the kids can take this one. Very practical!”
Marina Petrovna hung up and sat in the kitchen for a long time, staring out the window. She truly had planned to buy Katya an apartment and had already set aside a solid amount. But she intended to buy it in her daughter’s name before the wedding — let it be her personal property. You never know how life will turn out.
That evening she told Viktor. He listened and shook his head.
— “Audacity is a second kind of happiness,” he muttered. “They’re trying to shove an old wreck on us and demand an apartment.”
— “What do we do?”
— “Do what we planned. Buy Katya a one-bedroom and put it in her name. What that woman says isn’t our concern.”
Three days later Valentina Sergeyevna called again.
— “Marina, I’ve been thinking — when you go to view apartments, be sure to call me! I want to see where my son will live too. And I know about these things — I’ll tell you what to pay attention to. Layout, square meters, floor — everything matters!”
— “Thanks for the offer, but we can manage ourselves.”
— “Are you serious? This is for my child too! I have the right to be involved! When are you going?”
— “Valentina Sergeyevna, we haven’t decided anything yet.”
— “How can you not have decided? The wedding is in three months! You have to start looking — you won’t find a good option right away. Let’s go this weekend!”
Marina Petrovna took a deep breath.
— “We’ll handle our gift to our daughter ourselves. If we decide to buy an apartment, we’ll choose it on our own. Thank you for your participation.”
— “So you don’t trust me?” Valentina Sergeyevna snapped. “I only want what’s best! So the kids live normally and not in some little cubbyhole!”
A week later something unbelievable happened. Marina Petrovna was coming home from work when she saw a familiar figure by the gate — the same rose-patterned dress.
— “Valentina Sergeyevna? Did something happen?”
— “No, nothing. I was just driving by and thought I’d stop in. You’re home, right?”
“Driving by” meant twenty kilometers in the opposite direction from her own house. Marina Petrovna, exhausted, opened the gate.
— “I’ve been looking at listings,” the guest started immediately, stepping inside. “There are some good apartment options. Here — I wrote down addresses and phone numbers. We can even go today and see a couple!”
— “Valentina Sergeyevna, I already told you—”
— “Oh, come on! We’re practically family now! We should help each other! And by the way, you do understand the apartment has to be in both names, right? Katya’s and Andrey’s? Just in case…”
Marina Petrovna felt something inside her boil over.
— “If we buy an apartment, it will be registered in Katya’s name. It will be her premarital property.”
— “Premarital?” Valentina Sergeyevna exploded. “And what about my son? He’ll be the husband! Everything is supposed to be split in half!”
— “Nothing is ‘supposed’ to be anything,” Marina Petrovna said coldly. “This is our gift to our daughter.”
— “Well, I never!” Valentina Sergeyevna flushed red. “I didn’t expect such selfishness! We’re giving you a car!”
— “A twenty-year-old Lada,” Marina Petrovna snapped, finally losing patience.
— “So what? A car is a car! It runs! And you’re being greedy — you won’t even put the apartment in both names!”
After that visit, Marina Petrovna made a firm decision: no more contact with Valentina Sergeyevna until the wedding. She sent the number to her blacklist and stopped answering unknown landline calls.
When Katya found out what had been going on, she was horrified.
— “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t know his mother was like this. Andrey is shocked too — he talked to her, but she doesn’t listen to anyone.”
— “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Marina Petrovna soothed her. “You don’t choose his parents, and he doesn’t choose yours. The important thing is that you love each other and understand each other.”
— “Mom, we’ll rent a place for now. Don’t buy anything if it’s going to cause all these problems.”
— “I will buy it,” Marina Petrovna said firmly. “In your name, before the wedding. You should have your own roof over your head, no matter what happens. And what your future mother-in-law says doesn’t matter to me.”
Viktor backed his wife up.
— “Exactly. And at the wedding we’ll seat them farther away. Otherwise she’ll start telling the guests how much the banquet costs.”
Marina Petrovna gave a short laugh, then immediately grew serious again. The wedding was ahead, and that meant avoiding Valentina Sergeyevna completely wouldn’t be possible. And after the wedding… after the wedding, that woman would become the grandmother of their grandchildren.
— “Katya really got unlucky with a mother-in-law,” Marina Petrovna sighed.
— “But lucky with her husband,” Viktor replied. “Andrey’s an independent guy. He’ll put his mother in her place if he has to.”
Marina Petrovna nodded, but the тревога didn’t let go. She knew women like that — pushy, tactless, counting other people’s money. Talking to them was useless: they only heard themselves. The only thing you could do was keep your distance and protect your family from toxic influence.
The phone rang — an unknown number. Marina Petrovna rejected the call. No doubt Valentina Sergeyevna was calling from someone else’s phone. Fine — the blacklist would gain another number. And maybe, just maybe, before the wedding the co-in-law would calm down… or find a new target for her unstoppable energy.
Though, if she was being honest, there wasn’t much hope of that.