Kira stood framed in the doorway, bags of groceries held tightly in her hands. Her expression revealed a mixture of surprise and indignation. Meanwhile, Valery paced through the living room, frequently glancing at the clock.
“Valera, you told me the guests were coming on Saturday,” she said cautiously, setting the bags down.
“What Saturday? It’s Friday today! In just two hours Spartak and Evdokia, my parents, and your friend Vlada will be here! Have you completely forgotten?” he snapped.
She checked her phone to confirm the date: Friday. Yet there was no note about guests in her calendar.
“Valery, you never told me about this. I just came from work and had an important presentation…”
His voice rose to a shout: “Didn’t tell you? I told you a week ago! You’re always daydreaming, thinking only about your silly job!”
“For one, my job isn’t silly. And two, if you had told me, I would have remembered.”
Valery clutched his head, feigning despair.
“Oh, Kira! Why are you so irresponsible? My mother cancelled her trip just to come! Spartak and Evdokia are coming from across town, and we don’t even have a salad ready!”
“Calm down. I’ll prepare something quickly. There’s meat and vegetables in the bags…”
“Something? My mother expects a full dinner: hot dishes, appetizers, and dessert! And you offer ‘something’?” Valery approached her, voice stern.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Valery turned pale.
“They’re here! Your fault! Open the door and explain why nothing is ready!”
Taking a deep breath, Kira moved toward the door. There stood Milolika, Valery’s mother, a perfectly coiffed woman in her sixties, her expression stern and disdainful. Beside her was Valery’s father, Svyatogor, a kind-looking man with grey mustaches.
“Kirочка,” Milolika greeted, sizing up her daughter-in-law with a critical eye. “We thought you had everything ready. Valera told us dinner is at seven.”
“Good evening, Milolika, Svyatogor. Please come in. There’s been a small mix-up, but I’ll organize everything shortly,” Kira assured.
“Mix-up?” Milolika entered, sniffing dramatically. “There isn’t even the smell of food. Valery, son, what’s happening?”
Valery emerged from the living room, looking like a martyr.
“Mom, forgive me. Kira forgot about the dinner. I reminded her, but apparently she thinks her work is more important than family.”
“I told you she’s not right for my son. She can’t even manage a simple dinner.”
Kira clenched her teeth but stayed silent. Svyatogor cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Milolika, don’t start. Kira is a good, hardworking girl,” he spoke up calmly.
“Hardworking? Maybe at work, but at home? Valery works hard all day, comes home hungry, and she doesn’t even feed him!”
“I feed your son every day,” Kira responded quietly. “And I work just as much as he does.”
“Oh please, your work is sitting at a computer making pictures. Is that work? Valery has a real job!”
The doorbell rang again. Spartak and Evdokia arrived—Valery’s friends. Spartak, a large man with receding hairline, greeted loudly:
- “Valera, buddy! We brought the wine you asked for: expensive French wine!”
Evдokia, a petite blonde in a bright dress, kissed Kira’s cheek.
“Kirочка, everything smells so good! What are you cooking?”
Kira blushed. Valery quickly intervened:
“Kira is a bit behind with the dinner. Have a seat, let’s have some wine.”
“No problem,” Spartak said, plopping on the couch. “We’re not in a hurry, right, Dusya?”
Evдokia nodded, but Milolika immediately chimed in:
“Guests should be prepared for in advance, but some seem oblivious.”
Kira headed to the kitchen but Valery grabbed her hand.
“Where are you going? Guests have arrived; entertain them!”
“You wanted me to cook. I’m going to do that now.”
“First, greet them properly and offer appetizers! What will people think?”
“What appetizers? You said there isn’t anything!”
The doorbell rang yet again. Vlada, Kira’s best friend with short hair and bright makeup, entered.
“Kira, hi! I brought your favorite passionfruit cake!”
“Thanks so much!” Kira hugged her.
“Cake?” Milolika snorted. “Will there be any proper food?”
Vlada looked at Kira in surprise.
“What’s going on? You look flustered.”
“It’s fine,” Valery quickly replied. “Kira mismanaged the timing. Vlada, sit down and have some wine.”
Kira escaped to the kitchen. She pulled out the meat: there wasn’t enough time for a full hot meal. Quick appetizers and vegetable platters seemed best. She began chopping vegetables frantically.
Valery peeked in.
“How’s it going? Mom is giving me the evil eye, saying that in her day, women prepared everything by morning.”
“Enough, Valery! I’m doing my best. If you warned me a week ago, I forgot. But honestly, it feels like you only decided this this morning and told no one.”
“How can you accuse me in front of guests? Ungrateful!”
Milolika’s voice rang through the living room:
“Valery, maybe we should just order food. Otherwise, we’ll be hungry until midnight.”
“Great idea, Mom!” Valery left the kitchen.
Kira continued slicing when Vlada approached.
“What’s happening? Why is Valera acting so?”
“He says he warned me about the guests, but I don’t recall. My phone has no mention of them.”
“And his mother is as usual?”
“Don’t start, Vlada. This is hard enough already.”
Vlada rolled her eyes but helped chop.
Half an hour later, improvised snacks—a vegetable platter, cheese, and quick canapés—were served in the living room.
“Finally!” Valery exclaimed. “Though I ordered sushi and pizza. They’ll arrive in an hour.”
“Sushi?” Milolika wrinkled her nose. “Raw fish? Ugh, back in my day, we cooked proper Russian food.”
“Mom, sushi is tasty and healthy,” Valery defended.
“Maybe for the Japanese. Russians need real food. My friend Zinaida always cooks cutlets, soups, and salads. And her daughter-in-law is a gem, waking at five to prepare her husband’s breakfast.”
Kira sank quietly into an empty seat. Spartak poured wine.
- “Let’s toast to this gathering! It’s rare we all come together.”
- “To the gathering!” everyone echoed.
Everyone clinked glasses except Kira, who held juice.
“Not even joining us for a drink?” Milolika commented.
“I have an early meeting tomorrow and need a clear head.”
“An early meeting,” the mother-in-law mocked. “Your pictures are always more important than family.”
“Kira is an interior designer—a serious profession,” Svyatogor unexpectedly defended her.
“Serious? Painting walls? Real professions are doctors or engineers, not frivolities.”
Evдokia tried to change the topic.
“By the way, Kira, Spartak and I are planning renovations. Maybe you could help with the design?”
“Absolutely, I’d love to,” Kira brightened.
“Just don’t do those trendy styles—minimalism or loft,” Spartak added. “We prefer classic looks.”
“I’ll prepare several options to choose from.”
“And affordable, I hope?” Evдokia chipped in. “Designers tend to overcharge.”
Kira sighed.
“We’ll discuss pricing individually.”
“See!” Milolika snapped. “Already thinking about money. Friends should get free help.”
“Kira is a professional. Her time costs money,” Svyatogor argued again.
“Oh Svyatogor, don’t start! Choosing curtains for Zinaida is free, and that’s fine.”
Valery poured more wine:
“Mom is right. Sometimes Kira is too focused on money. She even refused to help my colleague with an office design.”
“Because your colleague wanted the project done in three days for almost nothing!” Kira protested.
“There you go again! Can’t you behave in front of guests?”
Vlada lost patience:
“Valery, you and your mother have been attacking Kira all evening. It’s unfair.”
“Vlada, don’t interfere in family matters,” Valery cut her off.
“This isn’t family business, it’s rudeness!”
“Vlada is right,” Svyatogor surprised everyone by agreeing. “Milolika, stop picking on Kira.”
“Picking on her? I’m just stating facts! The daughter-in-law isn’t ready for guests, prioritizes work over family, and…”
The doorbell rang. Sushi and pizza arrived. Valery went to get the order.
While he was gone, Milolika leaned toward Evдokia:
“See? She didn’t even manage a proper dinner. I told Valery to marry Alevtina, my friend’s daughter. She cooks well and waits for her husband at home.”
“Mom, I hear everything!” Valery shouted from the hall.
The food was arranged on plates. Spartak tried to lighten the mood:
“Remember our student days when we ate only instant noodles and were happy?”
“Yeah, romantic times,” Valery smiled nostalgically. “And now… ” He glanced pointedly at Kira.
“And now what?” she asked.
“You’re always busy, tired, and unhappy. No romance left.”
“I work as much as you, take care of the house, and cook daily.”
“Don’t exaggerate! What do you cook? Pasta with sausages?”
“That’s not true! I prepare full lunches and dinners!”
“Kids, stop arguing,” Svyatogor intervened. “Let’s just eat peacefully.”
Everyone began eating. Milolika poked at sushi with a fork demonstratively:
“What’s tasty about this? Cold rice and raw fish? Real cutlets would be better.”
“If you don’t like it, there’s pizza,” Valery offered.
“Pizza is fast food and unhealthy. That’s why young people have health issues.”
Evдokia tried to continue the conversation:
“Kira, you’re so slim! How do you stay in shape?”
“Thanks. I eat properly and practice yoga.”
“Yoga? Another fad. They just sit and lift their legs. Better to do housework for exercise.”
“Yoga is an ancient and beneficial practice,” Vlada defended.
“Ancient? Sure, for Indians. We Russians don’t need that. We have our own culture.”
Spartak laughed loudly:
“Milolika, you’re just like my mom! She criticizes everything new.”
“And rightly so! No need to copy nonsense. Women knew their place before — home and family. Now, career women and feminists…”
“What’s wrong with women building careers?” Kira asked.
“They forget family! You, for example. Valery comes home hungry while you’re always at work.”
“Valery isn’t hungry! He can make his own food!”
“He can? A man cook? What news are these?”
“That’s equality,” Vlada said.
“Equality? Men provide, women keep the hearth. Always been that way!”
Valery, sensing a stalemate, tried to change the subject:
“Enough politics. Mom, how’s Aunt Lyuba?”
“Don’t remind me! Her daughter-in-law kicked her out, saying she wanted to live separately! That’s where this equality leads!”
Awkward silence fell. Kira got up.
“I’ll bring tea and cake.”
In the kitchen, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. The constant criticism and reproaches exhausted her. Vlada came over:
“Stay strong, friend. Don’t pay attention to that harridan.”
“Easy to say. She’s Valery’s mother. And he always sides with her.”
“Maybe you need a serious talk with him?”
“Tried. He says I’m exaggerating.”
They returned to the living room with tea and cake. Milolika immediately criticized the cake.
“Passionfruit? What exotic nonsense? A real cake is Napoleon or Honey Cake!”
“Try some,” Svyatogor urged.
“No! I don’t like foreign stuff.”
Evдokia tasted a piece.
“Mmm, delicious! Vlada, where did you get it?”
“At Sweet Paradise bakery. Their desserts are amazing.”
“Probably expensive,” Spartak remarked.
“Not cheap, but worth it.”
“See!” Milolika exclaimed. “Throwing money away on nonsense, then complaining about shortages!”
“We’re not complaining,” Kira answered calmly.
“Not yet. What about when you have kids? How will you live then?”
“Mom, we’re not planning children now,” Valery replied.
“Not planning? You’re thirty-five! When then?”
“When we’re ready.”
“Ready? That’s the new generation for you. We had kids at twenty without hesitation!”
“Maybe we should consider that,” Kira muttered under her breath.
“What did you say?” Milolika snapped.
“Nothing. Just times have changed.”
“Changed? For the worse! Respect for elders and traditions have vanished!”
Svyatogor stood up.
“Milolika, enough. It’s late, let’s go home.”
“How is that enough? I’m speaking the truth!”
“Enough, I said!” Svyatogor suddenly yelled, catching everyone off guard.
“Sorry, I’m tired. Thank you for the evening. Kira, the food was delicious.”
“Delicious?” Milolika began, but her husband took her arm and led her out.
After they left, the tension eased. Spartak poured the remaining wine.
“To Svyatogor! That man knows how to put the mother-in-law in her place!”
“It’s mother-in-law, not grandmother,” Evдokia corrected.
“What’s the difference! The point is he settled her down.”
Valery frowned.
“Don’t speak ill of my mother. She only cares about me.”
“Cares? She’s been tormenting Kira all night!”
“Vlada, I told you to stay out of our family matters!”
“I’m not meddling. I’m just defending my friend from rudeness!”
“What rudeness? Mom’s just giving her opinion!”
“An offensive opinion!”
Spartak tried to calm them.
“Let’s not fight, everyone’s tired and upset.”
“I’m not upset!” Valery snapped.
Evдokia stood.
“Spartak’s right. It’s time to leave. Thanks for the evening.”
They left, leaving Vлада, Kira, and Valery behind.
“Maybe I should go too?” Vлада suggested.
“Yes, please,” Valery muttered.
Vlada hugged Kira.
“Call me if you need anything.”
As she left, Valery turned on his wife.
“You ruined everything on purpose! Didn’t cook, were rude to my mother!”
“I wasn’t rude. She insulted me all evening!”
“Insulted? She simply expressed her opinion. And you’re overly sensitive!”
“Your mother called my work worthless and me a bad hostess.”
“Is that not true? You did forget about the guests!”
“I didn’t! You never told me!”
“I did! A hundred times!”
Kira pulled out her phone.
“Look at our texts last week. Where is even one mention of guests?”
Valery waved her off.
“I told you in person!”
“When? Name the day and time!”
“I don’t remember, but I told you!”
“You’re lying. You forgot to warn me and now blame me!”
“I’m lying? How dare you!”
“And how dare you humiliate me in front of guests and side with your mother!”
“She’s my mother. I must respect her!”
“And me? I’m your wife! You should protect me, not join her attacks!”
Valery poured himself a full glass of wine.
“You know what? Mom was right. I should have married Alevtina. She wouldn’t cause scandals.”
That was the final straw. Kira felt something snap inside.
“Fine, marry her. I’m leaving.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“To Vlada’s. Tomorrow I’ll look for an apartment.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re not going anywhere!”
Kira silently packed her bags in the bedroom as Valery followed.
“Stop this hysteria. You’re not serious!”
“Absolutely serious. I’m tired of your disrespect, your mother’s nagging, and your taking her side.”
“You’re overreacting. Mom only said a few words.”
“A few words? She humiliates me every time we meet, and you stay silent or agree.”
Kira zipped her bag. Valery tried to hold her.
“Stop, let’s talk calmly.”
“No. I’m tired of talking. You don’t listen.”
“Where are you going? It’s late!”
“I already texted Vlada. She’s waiting.”
Kira passed him and opened the door. Valery yelled after her:
“Go! But don’t think I’ll beg you to come back! You’ll crawl back yourself!”
Kira turned.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
She left, slamming the door behind.
The next morning Valery woke with a pounding headache. After Kira left last night, he drank all the remaining wine. The apartment felt empty and cold.
He called his mother.
“Mom, Kira left.”
“What? Left?”
“She packed her things and went to a friend’s. Said she’ll look for an apartment.”
“Good! You’ll find yourself a proper wife who appreciates you!”
“Mom, maybe you were too harsh yesterday?”
“Harsh? Valery, I spoke the truth. If she can’t accept it, that’s her problem.”
New Beginnings and Lingering Family Struggles
One week later, Kira exited the courthouse holding divorce papers. Outside, Valery and Milolika waited.
“Kira! What are you doing? Breaking up the family!” Milolika shouted.
“Your son destroyed it,” Kira replied calmly.
“Our family took you in and fed you! And you behave like a slut…”
“Mom, stop,” Valery tried to intervene.
“Stop? She’s disgracing us all over town, telling everyone we’re bad!”
“I’m not telling anyone. Just getting divorced.”
“Divorced? Who do you think you are? Ungrateful!”
Passersby turned to the shouting. Kira tried to move past, but Milolika blocked her way.
“Valery deserves better, and you… are just a career woman!”
“Listen, Milolika,” Kira said firmly. “Valery, the apartment is mine. My father gifted it as a wedding present. Move out by tonight. All documents are with the lawyer.”
Valery turned pale.
“By tonight? You can only take personal belongings.”
“Wait,” he pleaded.
“No. It’s decided.”
Milolika paced between them.
“What apartment? You bought it together!”
“No, it’s my property.”
Kira turned and left without looking back at the yelling mother-in-law.
That evening Valery stood at his parents’ doorstep with two suitcases.
“Son, don’t worry,” Milolika soothed. “We’ll find you a better wife. Alevtina is still single.”
But after a month, her tone changed:
“Valery! When will you find a job? You’re just mooching off me!”
“Mom, I’m looking…”
“Looking for a month! Who’s buying groceries?”
“I help around the house.”
“A man of thirty-five helping at home? Shameful!”
Every day began with reproaches. Valery drank, searched for employment unenthusiastically, and endured his mother’s scolding.
“Alevtina got married to a good man with money. And you…”
The door slammed. Svyatogor entered carrying a large bag.
“Dad, where are you going?”
“Moving to my brother’s place. I’m tired of this every day.”
“Svyatogor!” Milolika protested.
“I’m filing for divorce. Forty years of patience is enough.”
He grabbed papers from the table and headed out.
“Dad, wait!”
“Valery, you’re an adult. Handle your life and your mother.”
Svyatogor left, leaving Valery alone with the angry Milolika.
“See? Your wife caused quarrels, turning your husband against me!”
“Mom, it’s not her fault. Dad decided on his own.”
“No! She arranged it all on purpose!”
Since then, the house was a battleground. Milolika blamed Valery for ruining the family; he snapped back, and they argued until hoarse.
Meanwhile, Kira settled into her new apartment. She removed the dark wallpaper Valery liked and brought in bright furniture.
Vlada often visited.
“You look ten years younger!”
“That’s true,” Kira laughed. “I live for myself now.”
She no longer cooked dinners on schedule or endured insults from her mother-in-law.
Evenings were quieter, filled with books, movies, and friends. Without home stress, work became more fulfilling, sparking fresh ideas and energy.
One day Kira met Evдokia on the street.
“Kira! How are you? Valery told me you divorced.”
“Yes, we did. I’m doing well.”
“And him? He changed a lot. Looks older and worn out. Living with his mother, who constantly nags him.”
Kira shrugged.
“That’s his choice.”
Walking home, she reflected on how freely she breathed without the need to justify, explain, or tolerate someone else’s aggression. Freedom was wonderful.
In summary: This story portrays the complexities of family dynamics, where miscommunication and differing values about work, family roles, and respect escalate tensions. The protagonist’s journey illustrates the importance of setting personal boundaries, prioritizing mental health, and seeking peace when relationships become toxic. Though painful, her decision to leave ultimately grants her freedom and a chance to rebuild a healthier life.