— Olya, just don’t interrupt me, I’ve already planned everything, — her mother-in-law’s voice rang through the phone like brass, leaving no room for maneuver. — We’ve decided to celebrate Auntie’s anniversary at your place this weekend. There will be twenty of us! You have a country house, plenty of space, the lawn is trimmed. Beautiful!
Olga froze with the garden shears in her hands. Spots swam before her eyes. Just two days earlier, she and her husband had finished the terrace, dreaming of their first quiet weekend together in six months.
— Margarita Stepanovna, wait. What aunt? What twenty people? I had plans for this weekend, I wanted to…
— Oh, Olya, what plans could possibly be more important than family? — her mother-in-law sighed theatrically. — Aunt Lyusya is flying in from Saratov; we haven’t seen each other in seven years! We can’t take her to a restaurant, everything there is artificial and expensive. But your place has soul! I’ve already made the grocery list. Write this down: you’ll need to marinate ten kilograms of pork neck, make three kinds of Olivier salad…
— I am not writing anything down, — Olga interrupted, feeling a cold fury boiling inside her. — Does Vadim know?
— Vadik is a golden son; he is always in favor of family gatherings. That’s it, dear, I’m running to the hairdresser, I have a million things to do!
Olga slowly lowered the phone. At that moment, Vadim came out of the garage, wiping his hands with a rag. On his face was that same guilty smile he wore every time he could not say no to his mother.
— Olya, just don’t shout. Mom asked so much…
— You knew? — Olga looked straight at her husband. — You knew and kept quiet? Twenty people, Vadim! Our septic tank isn’t designed for that kind of crowd, not to mention my nerves.
— Well, they’re relatives, — he came closer, trying to put his arms around her shoulders. — Aunt Lyusya is practically a legend. She used to tell stories about how she bathed me in a basin when I was little…
— I don’t care what she bathed you in! — Olga pulled away sharply. — Why does our private space always become public property the moment your mother wants to show off in front of the relatives?
— It’s only for two days, Olya. We’ll endure it. I’ll help with the grill.
— You’ll help with the grill, and I’ll spend two days working as a waitress, cook, and maid? — She pointed at the sparkling panoramic windows of their house. — Look at this house. We built it for ourselves, not as a branch of the Saratov railway station!
— You’re exaggerating, — Vadim muttered, heading into the house. — Mom said they’ll bring everything with them.
Saturday morning began not with birdsong, but with the screech of brakes. Three cars blocked the garage exit. People began spilling out of them like clowns from circus vans: loud, loaded with bags, checkered sacks, and screaming children.
Margarita Stepanovna emerged last, leading a heavyset woman in an enormous floral dress by the arm — that very Aunt Lyusya.
— Olenka, greet the guests! — her mother-in-law shouted from the gate. — Where should we take the meat? Did you clear space in the fridge?
Olga stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
— Hello. Take the meat straight to the gazebo. No one enters the house wearing shoes. We have light-colored carpet.
— Oh, how delicate! — Aunt Lyusya laughed loudly, enveloping Olga in the smell of strong perfume and road dust. — A tight squeeze, but no hard feelings! Where is your bathroom? After the road, I simply can’t hold it anymore!
Within an hour, the house had turned into chaos. Children were jumping on the living room sofa, someone had already spilled cherry juice on the terrace, and in the kitchen, Vadim’s sister Inna was taking charge, expertly opening jars of pickles.
— Inna, put down that knife. It’s Japanese steel; it can’t be washed in the dishwasher! — Olga tried to intercept the tool.
— Oh, Olya, don’t be such a bore, — Inna waved her off. — We’re making a celebration here, and you’re walking around with a face like you’re at a funeral. Vadik, bring the salt!
Vadim rushed between the guests, opening bottles and carrying chairs. He tried not to look at his wife.
— Vadim, — Olga whispered when she caught him in the hallway. — Your nephew just tried to shove the cat into the washing machine. Do something.
— He’s just playing, Olya. Don’t make it worse. Better go to Aunt Lyusya; she’s offended that you aren’t talking to her.
Olga went out onto the terrace. At the table, the “warm-up” was already in full swing. Aunt Lyusya, flushed, was proclaiming loudly to the whole garden:
— …and I said, Ritochka, why do they need such a big house for two people? It’s not natural. Family should be together. Back in our day, we lived in a communal apartment, and it was fine — golden times!
— The golden times are over, Aunt Lyusya, — Olga said loudly, sitting down on the edge of a chair. — Now people value personal boundaries.
Silence fell over the table. Margarita Stepanovna narrowed her eyes.
— Boundaries are for strangers, dear. And we are family. By the way, Vadik said you’re using the guest room on the second floor as an office for now? We decided Lyusya will sleep there. The sofa in the living room will be too hard for her.
— What? — Olga felt a rushing noise in her ears. — Vadim, you gave our office away as a bedroom? My documents are there, my computer!
— Mom, we didn’t discuss anyone staying overnight… — Vadim began.
— What is there to discuss? — Margarita Stepanovna snapped. — An elderly person needs a proper sleep. Or are you, Olya, going to put your husband’s own aunt on the floor?
— I’m going to put her in a hotel five kilometers from here, — Olga replied, pronouncing every word distinctly. — I booked a room there ten minutes ago. At my own expense.
Aunt Lyusya flung up her hands and dramatically clutched her heart.
— Rita, I told you! I’m not wanted here! I’ll go to the station and sit on a bench…
— Olya, are you out of your mind? — Inna shrieked. — Throwing a guest out of the house? How could you even say that?
— My house, my rules, — Olga stood up. — Celebrate, eat, but by eight in the evening, there must be silence here.
— Vadim, do you hear that? — Margarita Stepanovna’s voice rose to a piercing pitch. — Do you hear how she speaks to us? Who are you in this house anyway? The owner or a doormat?
Vadim turned red to the roots of his hair. He looked at his mother, then at the sobbing Aunt Lyusya, then at his wife.
— Olya, apologize right now. This is too much.
— Apologize? For protecting my home from being taken over?
— This isn’t a takeover, it’s an anniversary! — Vadim shouted. — You’ve always been selfish. Nothing ever suits you: someone puts slippers in the wrong place, someone laughs too loudly. These are my loved ones! If you don’t like them, maybe you should go to a hotel yourself.
Olga fell silent. Her husband’s words hit harder than all of her mother-in-law’s antics.
— Is that so? — she asked quietly. — So you choose their comfort over mine?
— I choose normal human relationships! — Vadim waved his hand. — Mom, don’t listen to her. Lyusya, dear, make yourself comfortable in the office. I’ll bring the bedding right now.
Olga watched her husband go into the house, accompanied by Margarita Stepanovna’s triumphant gaze. The relatives at the table grew noisy again, celebrating their victory.
The evening turned into an endless nightmare. By ten o’clock, songs were echoing through the entire settlement. Aunt Lyusya, now completely at home, demanded that the “banquet continue” and tried to organize dancing on the lawn that Olga had nurtured all summer.
Olga locked herself in the bedroom, but the noise seeped through the walls. There was a knock at the door. It was Inna.
— Listen, “hostess,” we’re out of ice. Go freeze some or bring it up from the basement.
— Go away, Inna.
— What a character, — her sister-in-law snorted. — No wonder Vadik can barely stand looking at you anymore. Mom is right; you need treatment for your nerves.
Olga opened the door. Inna stood there with an empty bowl, a smug smirk on her face.
— Did you say something about my sanity?
— I said you’re ruining everyone’s celebration. You’re like a bone stuck in everyone’s throat. Sitting here sulking while people are having fun from the heart.
At that moment, from downstairs came the sound of breaking glass and Margarita Stepanovna’s shout. Olga rushed down.
On the living room floor lay the shards of her favorite floor vase — a gift from her father, brought from Japan. Beside it stood Inna’s son, frightened as he looked at the pile of ceramic pieces.
— Oh, it’s just a vase, — Margarita Stepanovna was already sweeping up the shards. — You’ll buy a new one; Vadik earns money. Children are children.
Olga looked at her husband. Vadim was sitting in an armchair with his arm around Aunt Lyusya, lazily chewing a sandwich.
— Vadim, that was my father’s vase.
— Well, Olya… It was an accident. Don’t turn it into a tragedy.
Olga took a deep breath. The anger vanished, leaving behind a strange, ringing emptiness. She understood that she had lost. In this system of coordinates, she was an alien element, interfering with “family happiness.”
— Fine, — she said in an unexpectedly calm voice. — Vadim, you’re right. I’m going too far.
Her mother-in-law exchanged a victorious glance with her daughter.
— See, you can be normal when you want to! — Margarita Stepanovna rejoiced. — Come on, bring the homemade liqueur. You had it in the cabinet.
— Of course. And I’ve already prepared everything for Aunt Lyusya in the office.
The rest of the evening passed under the guests’ command. Olga obediently brought snacks, cleared empty plates, and even nodded in response to Aunt Lyusya’s endless advice on how to salt cucumbers properly.
— See? — Vadim whispered to her when they bumped into each other for a moment in the kitchen. — Everything is fine after all. Mom is happy, everyone is happy. Thank you for meeting us halfway.
— Yes, Vadim. You were right. Family is the most important thing.
Olga smiled at him, and Vadim, reassured, returned to the guests.
Closer to midnight, the guests began dispersing to their sleeping places. Inna and the children took the guest sofa, the others settled on inflatable mattresses in the library. Aunt Lyusya, struggling up the stairs, solemnly locked herself in the office.
— Olya, are you coming to bed? — Vadim asked, stretching.
— Yes, I’ll just check whether everything is closed on the terrace. Go ahead, I’ll be there soon.
When Vadim fell into a dead sleep, Olga quietly got up. She did not go to the terrace. She went to the wardrobe, took out the bag she had packed in advance, and left the house, trying not to make the stairs creak.
It was cool outside. She got into her car, parked right by the gate — the only one not blocked by the guests — and started the engine.
Morning in the house began with Aunt Lyusya’s screams.
— Vadik! Rita! Where are my things?! Where is my suitcase?!
Vadim jumped out of bed, understanding nothing. He ran into the hallway.
— Aunt Lyusya, what happened?
— The office is empty! — the guest wailed. — My suitcase is gone! And my anniversary dress!
— Olya! — Vadim called, bursting into the bedroom.
But the bedroom was empty. The bed on his wife’s side had not even been turned down. On the nightstand lay a sheet of paper and a set of keys.
Vadim picked up the letter.
“Dear Vadim. You said I should adapt to your family’s demands. I adapted. Since you have decided that this house is common property, I won’t stand in your way. Enjoy it. I took Aunt Lyusya’s things to that very hotel; the room is paid for three days. I took my laptop and documents from the office. I am leaving you the keys to the house — own it, master of the house. I am filing for divorce. Since you love living like a traveling camp so much, I’m sure it won’t be hard for you to buy out my share of this house, or we will sell it. Keep celebrating. Olga.”
Vadim stood in the middle of the quiet room, while downstairs the voices of the awakened relatives were already rising.
— Vadik! — Margarita Stepanovna shouted from the kitchen. — Where is the coffee? Is Olya still sleeping? Tell her to get up; breakfast for twenty people needs to be made! And tell her Innochka accidentally broke your favorite mug, but that’s good luck!
Vadim looked at the keys in his hand. For the first time in many years, he felt truly afraid. He went out onto the balcony and saw the empty yard. Olga’s car was gone. The lawn, trampled by dozens of feet, looked pitiful.
— Vadik! — his mother-in-law appeared in the bedroom doorway. — Why are you silent? Go wake up that… by the way, where is she?
— She’s gone, Mom, — Vadim answered dully. — Gone for good.
— Good riddance! — Margarita Stepanovna snorted. — What a princess. We’ll manage perfectly well without her. Inka, come here, you’ll fry eggs for everyone!
Inna looked into the room, sleepy and displeased.
— Mom, I didn’t sign up to cook for twenty people. Let Aunt Lyusya cook; she’s the birthday woman.
— Me?! — Aunt Lyusya floated out of the hallway in her nightgown. — I’m a guest! I won’t lift a finger! Vadik, where is my suitcase? I need to change!
— Your suitcase is at the hotel, — Vadim sat down on the bed, clutching his head in his hands.
— What hotel? How am I supposed to get there? Vadik, take me there immediately!
— I can’t. I’m blocked in by three cars in the yard! — Vadim snapped, shouting. — Who has the keys? Uncle Gena? Uncle Gena “celebrated” so hard yesterday that he won’t wake up until evening!
Chaos erupted in the house. Inna’s children started fighting over the last yogurt in the fridge. Aunt Lyusya demanded a taxi and cognac “for her nerves.” Margarita Stepanovna tried to turn on the stove, but because it was an induction model and difficult to operate, it stubbornly displayed an error.
— Vadik, go deal with this damned stove! — his mother shouted.
Vadim went out onto the terrace. Trash, scraps of napkins, and empty bottles lay all around. The house that had been his fortress had turned into a noisy, dirty den where everyone demanded something from him.
He took out his phone and dialed Olga.
“The subscriber is temporarily unavailable.”
Vadim sat on the terrace steps, staring at the flattened grass.
— We decided… — he whispered, repeating his mother’s words.
Now he understood that “we” had always meant Margarita Stepanovna, and “decided” had meant a sentence passed on his personal life.
— Vadik! — his mother’s voice carried from deep inside the house. — Where is the vacuum cleaner? The children spilled chips on your white carpet!
Vadim did not move. He looked at Olga’s keys, understanding that today he had truly lost everything he had been building for years. He had adjusted himself to their demands, and now this was his new reality — a reality where there was no longer any room for silence, respect, or the woman he loved.
And beyond the fence, on the highway, Olga drove toward the morning sun. For the first time in a long while, she could breathe easily. She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but she knew one thing for certain: never again would twenty people with someone else’s anniversary burst into her weekend.