Veronika had always been a piece of work. The youngest, spoiled, the one Dad always favored — and now, she was about to take over my summer house.
When she called that fateful day, her voice was dripping with sweetness, but I could already feel the trap being set. Her 40th birthday was coming up, and of course, she couldn’t just celebrate at a regular restaurant like anyone else. No, she’d planned the entire event at my little summer house, which I’d worked tirelessly to make my personal oasis — a place where I could escape the chaos of the city, where I could tend to my roses and strawberries in peace, and write in the evenings.
“Svetochka, sunshine, how are you?” she cooed, making my stomach churn.
“I’m good… What’s up?” I asked, suspicious of the way her tone was already setting off alarm bells in my mind.
“Listen, here’s the thing… I’m turning forty soon, you know, a milestone! I wanted to celebrate at a restaurant, but then I thought — why bother? Your summer house is gorgeous! There’s nature, a river nearby, plenty of space… In short, I’ve already planned everything!”
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Wait, what do you mean ‘planned’?” I asked, my heart racing. “Veronika, you can’t just…”
“Oh God, Sveta! Why are you acting like a child? I’m your sister! Aren’t you even a little bit sorry? By the way, I already invited thirty people. It’s going to be wonderful!”
Thirty? I froze. Where would they all fit?
“They’ll be fine!” she said nonchalantly. “Some will be in the house, some in tents. I even sketched the seating plan. By the way, you’ll have to free up your bedroom for me and Oleg. I’m the birthday girl!”
I couldn’t believe it. My summer house — my refuge, my sanctuary — was about to be turned into some circus. A loud, crowded, ridiculous circus.
I hung up, my mind racing. How could she do this to me?
I sat there staring at the phone, realizing how much I had put into this place. The floors I laid, the roses I nurtured, the quiet mornings with a cup of tea on the veranda. And now, she expected me to be her waitress, her servant, just because we shared blood? No. Not this time.
I took a deep breath. “No way,” I muttered to myself. “Enough is enough.”
A plan started forming in my mind. I smiled, already feeling the excitement building. Veronika wanted her grand celebration at my house? Fine. She’d get one.
For the next two weeks, I played the perfect sister. I called Veronika back, all sweetness and light.
“Of course, Veronika! Your 40th at the summer house — it’s a great idea! I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry about a thing!”
She was surprised, but I could hear her relaxing. “Great! Then I’ll send you the guest list and the menu. Oh, and maybe you can heat up the sauna? Oleg loves to steam…”
“I’ll take care of everything, I promise,” I said, hiding my grin. I was already working out the details.
The day before the big event, I went to the summer house two days early to “prepare,” as I told Veronika. The first thing I did was call all the neighbors. Anna Petrovna, especially, would appreciate a quiet day, so I explained the situation to her — she was thrilled. Then I called Sergey Palych at the police station, a favor for an old kindness. He laughed when I told him about my sister’s plan and promised to “keep an eye on things.”
Then, I got to work. I watered the roses, picked the strawberries, and even baked a few pies. Veronika’s cake would need to be placed in the fridge, so I made sure the space was ready. But I had other preparations in mind.
When Veronika and Oleg arrived — three hours ahead of schedule, no less — I was ready.
“Verochka! Olezhek! Welcome! Everything is ready!” I greeted them at the door, my arms open wide.
Veronika eyed the yard warily. It sparkled with cleanliness. Balloons, garlands, everything in place — perfect, like the setup for a dream wedding.
“Where are the tables?” she asked, her eyes scanning the yard.
“They’re coming! I’ll set them up in a bit. But let’s get you settled first!” I said, leading them inside. I opened the door to my favorite bedroom — the one with the view of the garden.
“Here you go, settle in! I even put on fresh bed linens, lavender-scented. You love lavender, right?”
“I sneeze from it,” Oleg grumbled, but Veronika nudged him, smiling.
“Everything’s wonderful, Sveta!” she chirped. “Where do we put the cake?”
“In the fridge, of course! I freed up a whole shelf just for it!” I said, motioning toward the fridge.
While they settled in and prepared the cake, I casually asked, “By the way, when will the first guests arrive?”
Veronika looked at me, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You seem… different. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Of course!” I smiled sweetly, then walked out to the yard to start “setting up” the rest of the party.
As I stepped outside, I couldn’t help but laugh. Veronika had no idea what was coming.