“You can’t be serious, can you, Sergey? I hope you’re joking! I just stepped through the door after a marathon day, my feet feel like they’re encased in concrete, and you’re saying the nephews are coming in an hour?”
Alena leaned against the wall in the entryway, looking at her husband in disbelief. Sergey shifted anxiously from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. His eyes displayed a familiar mix of fear and the urge to please everyone, a combination that often exasperated Alena. She slowly removed her shoe, sighing in relief as her swollen foot made contact with the cool laminate flooring. Her role as a senior nurse in emergency surgery had never been easy, and this shift had been a nightmare: three serious cases back-to-back, irate family members, and staff shortages.
“Listen, Lenochka,” Sergey blurted out, struggling with his coat, fumbling in a way that only made matters worse. “It’s just a few hours. Oksana (his sister) has to rush off to deal with some paperwork related to her car. She didn’t explain much, but she sounded worried. And with Vladislav and Denis, there’s no one to watch them – the daycare is closed, and the nanny is ill. They’re family, after all!”
Alena walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, which she downed in one go. It felt like the most refreshing thing ever. Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was nine in the morning on Saturday, her only day off. A day meant for lounging, staring at the ceiling, and simply enjoying the peace.
“Sergey,” she said firmly yet quietly, “Vladislav is five, and Denis is four. They are two little whirlwinds that will completely destroy our apartment in fifteen minutes. The last time we agreed to watch them for a couple of hours, they broke my favorite vase, doodled on the hallway wallpaper with markers, and fed our cat Barsik some clay. I didn’t sleep for twenty-four hours, and then spent another full day cleaning up. I can’t do this today. It’s just not physically possible.”
“But I’ll take care of them!” he exclaimed, fire igniting in his eyes. “I’ll manage! You just rest in the bedroom and shut the door. I’ll keep the boys entertained with some building blocks in the living room. You won’t even hear a thing!”
Alena smirked, understanding how naive Sergey was being. He had an unyielding affection for his sister and her children, failing to acknowledge that Oksana had long since embedded herself in their lives.
“Quiet? Do they even come with a volume control? They will scream, run around, bang things, and demand cartoons, snacks, and trips to the bathroom. And what about Oksana? When’s she coming back?”
“She said she’d try to make it back by evening.”
“By evening?!” Alena nearly dropped her glass, making Sergey jump. “So I’m supposed to spend my day off babysitting while your sister deals with her ‘urgent matters’? And you didn’t even think to ask why these matters would fall on a Saturday? Or why she can’t possibly file the paperwork without the kids?”
“Lena, there’s a line and it’s sweaty; the kids are struggling. Don’t be selfish. Oksana’s got a lot on her plate, and her husband’s barely scraping by. She needs help, and I’ve already promised her!”
“You promised without asking me! In my home. On my day off!”
At that moment, the doorbell interrupted their conversation. It rang long and insistently, as if someone had pressed the button and forgotten to let go. Sergey turned pale and rushed to the entryway. Alena remained in the kitchen, feeling a cold rage brewing inside her. She recognized this ring; Oksana always rang that way, as though she was being chased by wolves.
Joyful shouts, the patter of tiny feet, and Oksana’s loud voice were heard from the hallway.
“Oh, Sergiy, my savior! Hi! Where’s Leno? Is she already asleep? No worries, I’ll quietly get the kids undressed. Boys, listen to Uncle Sergey!”
Alena took a deep breath, adjusted her hair, and stepped into the corridor. The floor was already cluttered with boots, jackets were thrown on the pouf, and two rosy-cheeked toddlers raced into the living room where a new television awaited them. Oksana, a blonde in a trendy coat, was fixing her makeup in the mirror.
“Hi, Lena!” she shouted upon seeing her sister-in-law. “Oh dear, you look exhausted! You could use some under-eye patches and a mask. I’m in a rush; I have an appointment at ten, can’t be late.”
“Appointment?” Alena interrupted. “Didn’t you tell Sergey you had problems with your car paperwork?”
Oksana hesitated for a moment but quickly smiled radiantly as if nothing were wrong.
“Yes, paperwork, and that’s it. But first, I have a manicure, then I’ll handle the documents, and maybe have coffee with the girls in the evening. I’m a single mom—I deserve some time off! And you two have no children with you, so it’s a good chance to learn something. Kisses! I’ll be back by eight!”
She attempted to pass by, but Alena stood her ground. A lamp crashed in the living room, and Sergey raced towards the sound.
“Take the kids, Oksana,” Alena said in a cold tone.
“What? Are you joking? I’m already running late! The master will not wait!”
“I don’t care! I just got home from a shift! I want to sleep! I didn’t sign up to be a babysitter while you pamper yourself. Sergey promised without asking me! That’s his mess, and I won’t pay for it with my well-being.”
“You just hate my kids!” Oksana shrieked. “Sergey! Help! Your wife is kicking your nephews out!”
Sergey dashed out, clutching the broken lamp pieces, looking pitiful.
“Lena, come on… Oksana is already here. Let them stay; I’ll look after them, I swear! You go sleep; I’ll close the door tight so the noise won’t reach you. Oksana, just come inside, we’ll manage!”
Oksana let out a triumphant huff, shot Alena a piercing look, and stormed outside while shouting:
“They have food in their backpacks, but it’s just chips, make them a proper soup!”
The door slammed shut. Alena turned to her husband, who stood amidst the debris, and then at the chaos in the apartment: Denis was jumping on the couch, and Vladislav was trying to pull the tail of Barsik the cat, who was hissing from under the chair.
“Are you going to watch them by yourself?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, Lena, yes! I’ll handle everything. Just don’t be mad. You go lie down; I’ll turn on cartoons, feed them—everything will be fine.”
Alena silently headed toward the bedroom, but not to sleep. She pulled a small sports bag out of the closet and quickly changed: jeans, a fresh t-shirt, a book, a charger, and a small bag of makeup.
“Lena, where are you headed?” Sergey yelled as he caught hold of a wriggling Vladislav. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to rest, like I planned.”
“To another room?”
“No. To another place.”
As she left the corridor, she saw Denis attempting to draw with lipstick on the mirror, while Sergey hurried towards him, exclaiming, “Stop that!” But Alena was already opening the door.
“I’ll be back this evening when they get picked up. Or in the morning. There’s food in the fridge, but you need to cook it. Good luck, dear.”
Stepping outside, she inhaled the crisp autumn air. Her hands trembled, but inside her, a resolve burned bright. She had always smoothed over the bumps, sacrificing her needs for the sake of ‘family harmony,’ but today was different.
First, she stopped at the café on the corner, ordered a large cappuccino and a croissant. Watching passersby through the window, she opened a hotel booking app and found a quiet room in a business hotel three blocks from home. The prices were steep, but her peace of mind was worth every penny.
Forty minutes later, she was in the room. The thick silence enveloped her, and a hot shower washed away the hospital scent and home chaos. The windows were pulled shut with heavy curtains, and her phone was on silent. Sleep came without dreams, deep and restorative.
She awakened as dusk fell outside, it was seven in the evening. Her phone flashed with twenty missed calls from Sergey and five from Oksana, plus a pile of messages. The initial messages were cheerful: “Everything’s fine, we’re watching Paw Patrol,” “I’ll feed them dumplings.” Then the tone shifted: “Lena, where’s the ointment? Vlad hurt his knee,” “Denis spilled juice on the laptop,” “When are you coming back? I can’t handle this anymore!” The last one came half an hour ago: “Oksana isn’t answering, the kitchen’s a disaster—please come back.” Oksana sent one angry message: “Are you out of your mind? Left your husband with the kids! You’re so selfish!”
Alena set aside her phone and ordered room service: a Caesar salad and a glass of wine. She wasn’t going to rescue Sergey; this was his lesson, and he needed to see it through. After dinner, she watched a light film, and around ten decided to head back. She could check out from the hotel until midnight, but returning home felt more familiar, and she felt sorry for Barsik.
As she approached her apartment, she heard a cry in the stairwell—someone was crying, probably one of the children. Opening the door, she was met with complete chaos: an overturned coat rack, flour on the floor, the smell of burnt food and valerian. Sergey sat on the couch, looking as if he had emerged from a war zone: his hair was tousled, his shirt stained, a bruise under his eye. Toys littered the floor, torn books, while Vladislav and Denis lay asleep, wrapped in a blanket.
“You’re back,” he whispered.
“I’ve returned,” Alena replied calmly, stepping over a sticky puddle. “Where’s Oksana?”
“She hasn’t come back yet. Her phone is off.”
“Understood. ‘By evening,’ in her terms means until morning. So, how did it go? Quiet?”
Sergey covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
“Lena, it was hell. They wouldn’t stay put: spilled flour, tried to ‘bake a pie,’ fought over the remote, broke my second vase, almost drowned Barsik in the bathtub. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without them breaking something when I turned away.”
“I told you so,” Alena said dryly, “that you were exaggerating. You thought it was easy, while I was just feeling sorry for you and went quiet. In reality, I was struggling for two days after those shifts.”
At that moment, the door creaked, and Oksana walked in, cheerful, rosy-cheeked, with the scent of alcohol wafting off her.
“Hey, everyone!” she exclaimed, storming into the apartment. “Oh, where are my little angels? Are they asleep?”
Upon seeing Alena in the wrecked hallway, Oksana smirked:
“So, did you get your rest? Is your conscience prickling? Left your husband alone?”
“Shut up, Oksana,” Sergey said coldly, his voice as sharp as steel.
“What did you say?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.
Sergey stepped closer to his sister.
“I said: shut up. You promised to be back by eight, and now it’s eleven. You left the kids, turned off your phone, and went out drinking with friends, and you lied to me about the documents.”
“I’m a mother, and I have the right to a break!” Oksana retorted. “I’m leaving, and you can’t keep me here!”
“You are a lousy mother,” Sergey interrupted. “Look at what you did to my walls. Who’s going to clean up? Lena? Nope. You are. Right now.”
Oksana dashed into the room, shoving the kids into their jackets without even zipping them up. Within five minutes, the apartment was booming with the noise of children and her screams.
“I’ll never forget this!” she shouted as she left. “My feet will never return here!”
Leaning against the door, Sergey slid down to the floor, directly into the flour patch, whispering:
“God, what silence…”
Alena sat beside him and stroked his head.
“Did you understand why I refused?” she asked.
“I did,” he nodded, his eyes filled with guilt. “Lena, I’m sorry. I didn’t value your time; I thought it was a feminine whim. There will be no more ‘urgent matters’ from Oksana, not unless it’s a fire or a war, and only with your consent.”
“Alright,” Alena smiled. “But you’re cleaning up the mess. I’m going to sleep. I still have half a day off if you count the sleep.”
Sergey nodded, prepared to tidy up, clean the laptop, and wash Barsik. Alena retreated to their bedroom, feeling a gentle warmth in her chest after the storm had passed.
The next day, Sergey’s mother Galina Petrovna called, initially scolding him, but he calmly laid out the facts: a drunken sister, lies, damages, and the laptop repair costs adding up to a hundred thousand rubles. The mother muttered something about “being young and foolish” and hung up.
Alena sat with a cup of coffee in the now spotless kitchen, smiling. She had stood her ground, shown her husband reality, and finally managed to get some restful sleep. Oksana didn’t show up for two months, and when she finally called asking if she could “watch the kids for an hour,” Sergey replied, “Sorry, we have plans, we’re resting.” And he hung up. It was the sweetest sound to Alena’s ears.