The Struggle Behind the Summer House
— What on earth is this?! — Karina’s voice cracked with frustration as she stood firmly in the middle of their living area.
Her tone was filled with disbelief and anger. She scanned the room, hoping the answer to her vexation might somehow emerge from the furniture or walls.
— Again?! This is the third time this month! How long must this continue?
Seated comfortably on the couch and propped against pillows, Anton held a phone in one hand and the television remote in the other. He reluctantly turned his gaze to Karina, his eyes still betraying the same indifference typical when it involved his mother.
— What do you mean “again”? — he responded, narrowing his eyes. — Don’t jump to hysteria so fast. I just arrived and want to relax.
— Hysteria? — Karina stepped forward, her voice rising with tension. — You call this hysteria? You transferred five thousand rubles without any explanations or questions! You didn’t even ask what she needed it for!
Anton put the phone down beside him, letting out a tired sigh. His expression showed weariness rather than surprise.
— So what? That’s my mother. She requires support— I helped her. What’s the issue?
Karina moved closer, cheeks flushed with frustration.
— The issue is that we’re saving for our summer house! We agreed on that! Every ruble is dedicated to our shared dream! And every month, money disappears: for medications, repairs, or more unexpected expenses! Maybe she’s after a new iPhone?
Anton exhaled deeply, massaging the bridge of his nose.
— She’s elderly, Karina. Managing on her own is tough. Sometimes it’s easier to just help than to explain everything.
— Elderly? She’s only sixty-five! Yet she’s more active than you— theaters, countryside clubs, nonstop trips! And we? We have to sacrifice our aspirations because of her demands?
— Karina! — Anton’s voice finally held a tone of displeasure. — Please don’t speak harshly about my mother. She raised us.
— She raised you, Anton, not me. And I do appreciate that. But that doesn’t grant her endless claims for money! We live on one salary. My freelance projects are unstable—you know this!
Karina genuinely understood the fragility of their finances. After her advertising agency shut down, her shift to freelancing meant fluctuating income. Their budget was delicate, each unnecessary expense striking like a hammer blow.
Together, they dreamed of owning a small summer residence: a cozy house beyond the city, wrapped in climbing roses, hosting friends around barbecues, enjoying quiet fireside evenings. Yet, every time their savings neared the goal, unexpected costs appeared—mother-in-law’s repairs, dental bills, new appliances—and their progress was wiped away.
Insight: This recurring pattern of financial drain created tension, deeply affecting their shared future plans.
— I’m exhausted, — Karina whispered, moving toward the window, staring into the dark sky. — Tired of always being second to someone else. Tired of feeling like we survive by cutting corners on ourselves while your mother lives comfortably.
Anton approached her silently but didn’t embrace her.
— She’s unwell, Karin. She really needs our support.
— What sickness is this? An obsession with buying and traveling? Have you ever checked what the funds are spent on? She visits seaside resorts, shops, dines out frequently, while we haven’t vacationed in ten years!
— Enough, — Anton replied firmly, his previously irritated tone fading into indifference. — I don’t want to argue about this.
— Of course not! — Karina turned sharply toward him. — You always avoid discussion when it concerns your mother. She’s a saint in your eyes, and I’m the villain intent on harming her. But I want fairness! And I want our summer home!
Anton fell silent, his posture stiffening, gaze lowered. Karina recognized the look—he wouldn’t engage in conflict and would choose silence instead. After a while, he would leave as if nothing had occurred.
— Fine… — he muttered quietly. — I’m going to bed.
He walked away, leaving Karina alone, standing in the middle of the room.
By the window, she gazed at the cold, indifferent stars. She understood that until Anton made his own choice, nothing would improve. His role as a devoted son outweighed his responsibilities as husband. His affection for his mother was too profound to heed his wife’s pleas.
The following morning brought its usual routine of coffee and running, but also a heavy feeling of weariness. Hoping to clear her mind, Karina went outside. Sometimes she ran to forget troubles; today, she ran to find clarity.
Returning home, Anton was preparing to leave for work. His features had softened slightly but remained serious.
— Listen, Karin, — he said adjusting his tie — I’ll speak with my mother. I promise.
Karina paused, analyzing him carefully.
— What exactly will you say? About her spending our money? You know that’s pointless; she can justify herself as well as any politician.
— I’ll try, — he avoided her eyes. — Maybe this time it’s truly important; I just didn’t inquire.
— Sure, always important when it applies to her desires, — Karina sighed, the familiar exhaustion settling within.
— I must go now. We’ll talk tonight, — he kissed her forehead quickly before leaving.
Left alone, Karina faced the oppressive silence filling the apartment.
They first connected at a mutual friend’s party. Then, Anton had been attentive, confident, even a little romantic. Karina possessed energy, ideas, and belief in love. Together, they complemented each other perfectly, like day and night.
Before the wedding, Karina had met Galina Semyonovna, Anton’s mother. The woman was strict but intelligent, with piercing eyes and a voice commanding silence with a single phrase.
— I hope you’ll make my son happy, — she had said, carefully scrutinizing Karina. — He’s special.
At the time, Karina assumed it was maternal concern. Now, she realized it was more of a forewarning.
After the wedding, they settled into their own apartment. Galina Semyonovna was alone, and gradually, her calls increased in frequency. Initially, helping a family member felt natural. Gradually, that aid felt obligatory.
Once, when Karina was visiting her mother-in-law, she overheard her telling a neighbor about Anton purchasing a brand-new washing machine with drying functions for her.
— The old one was noisy, — Galina Semyonovna said with satisfaction. — Anton immediately decided we needed a new one.
Karina felt a sharp pang inside. The old machine worked perfectly well; her mother-in-law merely wanted something newer. And Anton had paid for it without question.
From that moment, Karina understood her mother-in-law did not just request help but wielded control over her son.
They chose a cautious approach. They stopped sharing plans with Galina Semyonovna. Silently, without announcement, they saved money for an apartment. When they finally gathered enough for a mortgage, they moved quickly—no fanfare, no celebration, only keys, smiles, and hopes.
However, at their housewarming, Galina Semyonovna appeared, inspecting their place like a critic.
— You could have told me, Anton. I would have helped, — she remarked.
— We managed on our own, Mom, — Anton replied.
Galina Semyonovna smiled, but her eyes revealed a glimmer of offense or perhaps resentment at the loss of control.
Their apartment was quaint but cramped for Karina’s expansive spirit. She craved order, light, and openness—luxuries their limited square footage couldn’t provide. Over time, her yearning grew stronger. She dreamed not just of living but truly breathing—feeling the earth beneath her feet and gazing upon fields, trees, and flowers rather than concrete walls. That summer house vision began faintly, then crescendoed into an obsession.
- A small cabin nestled amidst woods
- A terrace for morning reading
- A garden fresh with rain’s scent
- An evening fire shared with friends
This fantasy fueled her perseverance amid the relentless cycle of renting and saving.
Anton, observant of her desires, agreed wholeheartedly. He was always supportive, especially when it concerned her happiness. So they resumed saving, but soon discovered their budget was again leaking—via the same route: Galina Semyonovna.
One week after their most recent argument over another transfer to her mother, Karina was engrossed in work when the doorbell rang. Opening it, she found Galina Semyonovna—a slender, neatly dressed woman carrying a leather bag and wearing a smile that made Karina uneasy.
— Hello, dear Karina! — she greeted warmly. — Anton told me you were home. I thought I might drop by for tea if I’m not imposing.
Karina tensed internally; Galina Semyonovna never appeared without ulterior motives.
— Please come in, Galina Semyonovna. You’re not disturbing.
She entered, casually inspecting the apartment with an expert’s eye.
— How cozy! Bright and clean. You’re an excellent homemaker, Karina.
Karina thanked her cautiously, hiding her unease.
— What brings you here?
— Nothing special, — Galina Semyonovna said, placing a container on the floor. — Just wanted to see how you’re doing. I brought some pies; please take them.
They sat at the kitchen table, tea brewed, but the atmosphere felt more formal than friendly.
— Karina, — lowered voice, — Anton is so busy with work and home. And I’m here alone, sometimes lonely.
Karina watched her carefully.
— How do you manage?
— You know… — Galina Semyonovna paused, — I talked with friends. They praised rural life—peace, fresh air. I thought it would be lovely if you had a summer house as well.
Karina nearly choked on her surprise.
— A summer house? — she echoed, masking her astonishment.
— Yes! Anton told me about your savings.
Karina’s cheeks flushed; once again, he shared everything without consulting her.
— We are saving, but haven’t reached the goal yet.
— That’s wonderful! — Galina Semyonovna clapped happily. — I want to help! I have some savings for a rainy day, but I want to spend it on something good.
Karina stared in surprise. Such generosity felt suspiciously sudden and overwhelming.
— You have money?
— Of course! — pulling a thick wallet from the bag. — I worked all my life for this. I see your hard work, and I want to help. After all, you are my children too.
She laid out a stack of bills in front of Karina.
— Take this. Buy a spacious summer house so there’s room for all of us—and for me if I want to visit.
Karina regarded the money cautiously, unsure whether to feel joy or suspicion.
— Galina Semyonovna, this is too generous…
— Don’t worry, dear. I have more—this is a token for good memories.
That evening, when Anton returned, Karina greeted him with a strange look.
— Your mother came.
Anton frowned.
— Did she ask for anything?
— No. This time, she gave us.
He froze.
— What?
Karina showed the money stack. Anton counted it, eyes wide.
— This is a significant amount. Where did she get it?
— She claims it’s her savings. She wants to support us, for the summer house, for our children, and family time.
Anton considered.
— Maybe she truly changed?
Karina shook her head.
— Maybe. But I feel the story’s not over yet.
Ultimately, they accepted the funds, turning their dream into reality.
Two months later, Karina and Anton owned a modest yet cozy home nestled among fragrant pine trees. The land was modest but sufficient for a garden, flowerbeds, and a gazebo. Their first weekend there was blissful—Karina dug into the earth, Anton fixed the roof—they were happy. The dream was alive.
Galina Semyonovna called several times, inquiring about their progress. Karina responded politely but kept her distance, her mistrust lingering. Such sudden generosity was unsettling.
The housewarming arrived. Family and friends gathered, the table lavish, the atmosphere warm and lively.
Galina Semyonovna arrived early, inspecting the home like an official, smiling but with subtle undertones in her eyes.
— What a beautiful and cozy place! Where are the guest rooms?
Karina tensed.
— There’s just a small one.
— That’s inconvenient! You should have bought a larger house. But, well, we’ll manage.
The evening was joyful; everyone laughed, drank, and shared memories. Anton raised his glass:
“I want to thank everyone for coming, especially my mother, Galina Semyonovna. Thanks to her help, we could purchase this summer house!”
Applause followed. Galina Semyonovna’s smile widened, her eyes briefly locking on Karina with a complex expression.
After guests departed, only Galina Semyonovna remained.
At breakfast, she casually remarked:
— Oh, you built a lovely, spacious summer house! We should come stay with Petka for a month.
A cold shiver ran through Karina. Petka was their beloved cat, notorious for chasing things, scratching furniture, a soft embodiment of chaos.
Karina slowly turned to Anton, whose face turned pale.
— What? — he stammered.
— What? — Galina Semyonovna smiled sweetly. — I’m lonely here; it’s peaceful, the air is fresh, the environment perfect. I’ll stay a couple of weeks with you, especially since I helped buy the house. What’s the problem?
Karina exchanged a glance with Anton, who seemed at a loss for words.
— Galina Semyonovna, — Karina replied calmly, — do you have a litter box and a bowl for Petka? Because we already have Jerry, our yard dog. He’s currently at the clinic, but he’ll come home tomorrow. So, you and Petka will have someone to get acquainted with.
Galina Semyonovna’s expression twitched; she despised dogs, particularly large noisy ones like Jerry.
— What Jerry?
— Oh, well, he came with the land as part of the package, — Karina smiled. — Loyal and sociable, especially with cats.
Anton looked at Karina, a flicker of understanding and quiet pride in his eyes.
Though the summer house might become a battleground, Karina knew one thing for certain: she would never allow anyone to steal away her dream, no matter the cost.
In conclusion, this story highlights the complexities of balancing family loyalty and personal dreams. It illustrates how financial and emotional boundaries can be tested within close relationships. Ultimately, protecting one’s aspirations requires courage, clear communication, and mutual respect. Karina and Anton’s journey reminds us that dreams are worth fighting for, even amidst the challenges of family dynamics.