“I’m not obligated to help your daughter,” Natasha huffed.
“That’s not fair, Dasha isn’t to blame that her husband left her when she was seven months pregnant.”
“Larisa Alexandrovna, maybe you’ve forgotten why he left her? Let me remind you.”
“That’s enough!” the mother-in-law barked, then continued softly, “So what if she got pregnant by someone else, she admitted it. Half of Russia raises other people’s children and it’s fine, but he just had to be so principled—filed for divorce right away and kicked her out. Just don’t tell Borya why she got divorced, he won’t understand.”
Natasha only smiled at her mother-in-law’s words. She kept admiring herself in the large mirror; the fur coat looked perfect on her.
“Stop spinning around already!” the mother-in-law shouted. “Sit down on the couch and listen to me!”
“Larisa Alexandrovna, I can hear you perfectly well,” Natasha smiled. “Let Dasha depend on you now. Don’t expect any money from me or from Boris.”
A heavy silence filled the room, thick as tar.
“You little witch! Turning brother against sister. Borya, come here quickly!” the mother-in-law shouted.
A thin man came running from the kitchen.
“Mom, why are you yelling?” Borya asked, startled.
“Your wife refuses to help Dasha!”
Boris looked helplessly from his furious mother to his calm, collected wife.
“Natasha, maybe just a little, please? You can see how worried Mom is,” he mumbled, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
“Borya, don’t even start,” Natalia snapped, running her palm over the soft pile of the carpet. “Your sister called me a calculating witch right here in this very house a year ago, said I was just after the apartment. Remember? Or is your memory that short?”
“Oh please, she just said it in the heat of the moment!” Larisa Alexandrovna stepped forward. “Her life is falling apart now, and you’re still clinging to past grievances!”
“It’s not about old grudges. The fact is, your Dasha is a liar. You want me to just blindly fund her lies?”
“What lies? What are you talking about?” Boris frowned.
“About how she ‘ended up with’ the baby!” Natalia raised her voice, emphasizing the last words.
Boris turned pale.
“Don’t listen to her, sonny, she’s lying!”
“The guy Dasha got pregnant from used to work at our office, his name was Pasha, remember him, Borya? You even met him a couple of times, he was always hanging around her.”
Boris shrugged:
“I remember him,” he hissed.
“That guy is actually the father of Dasha’s child, and she tried to pin it on poor Igor! But it turned out later that he can’t have kids at all, and that’s when Dasha admitted she got pregnant from that other guy. Igor filed for divorce!” Natalia finished her report.
A heavy silence filled the room. Larisa Alexandrovna went so pale she matched the gray of her hair.
“You… you’re lying,” she barely breathed out.
“Go and ask Pasha. He’ll confirm everything for you. Everyone in town knows—even the laziest gossip knows—Dasha cheated and got pregnant by her lover. Igor just got caught in the middle; he married her, but when he found out there was no way he could be the father, he filed for divorce. He’s a man of principle, yes, but that’s not the point—he was used to cover up her mess.”
“Shut up!” the mother-in-law shrieked. “Don’t you dare drag my daughter’s name through the mud! Dasha… Dasha would never! You made all this up just to turn us against each other!”
“Mom, stop it!” Suddenly Boris didn’t look like a trembling little man anymore. He stepped up to Natalia. “Is this true? Are you sure?”
“Her ex-boss told me, we work at the same company. He knows all about this soap opera. She was messing around with one of the branch managers while Igor was off on business trips. When the manager found out she was pregnant, he quit and left faster than you could blink. Now Dasha is left with nothing but trouble—and a baby bump. And now she wants all of us to pity her and, more importantly, support her financially.”
“You bitch!” Larisa Alexandrovna rushed to the coffee table where the big tailor’s scissors were. Grabbing them, she lunged at Natalia. “I’ll show you what happens when you shame my family! I’ll ruin your coat, your horrible coat…”
She brandished the scissors, aiming for the sleeve, but Natalia didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, looking at her mother-in-law almost with sympathy. Just before the blades grazed the mink, Natalia made a subtle movement to the side, expertly intercepting her mother-in-law’s arm. With a sharp pull, Larisa Alexandrovna lost her balance and, propelled by inertia, went stumbling forward.
But Natalia didn’t stop. Two years of boxing had trained her movements into instinct. When her mother-in-law turned and swung again—this time aiming for her face—Natalia ducked out of the line of attack and, with a short, hard right hook, sent Larisa Alexandrovna into a deep knockout.
Her mother-in-law collapsed onto the carpet without a cry, the scissors clattering across the parquet. Silence filled the room completely.
“Mom!” Borya rushed to her, shaking her by the shoulders. “Mom! Are you out of your mind? Natasha, did you kill her?!”
“I didn’t kill her,” Natalia said calmly, adjusting the collar of her fur coat. “She’ll live. But she’ll sleep for an hour or so. Her nerves will finally get some rest, and we’ll get some peace too.”
“Natasha!” Borya stared in horror, looking from his wife to his mother, who was just starting to groan softly. “You… you hit her!”
“Borya, she came at me with scissors. Did you see that?” Natalia stepped closer. “I had to defend myself. If I didn’t know how, your mother would’ve shredded my coat to pieces, and probably got me too. And who would be apologizing then?”
“But she’s your mother! An elderly woman!”
“An elderly woman with scissors in her hand, who five minutes ago demanded I pay for your liar of a sister’s romantic escapades,” Natalia shot back. “Enough. I’ve had enough.”
She walked over to the mirror, took one last look at herself, and nodded in satisfaction.
“Borya, I’m leaving. I’ll stay with a friend for a couple of days. And when your mom wakes up, tell her this: if she ever raises a hand to me again or even dares to cross the threshold of our apartment, I’ll press charges. I’ve got video on my phone—recorded our whole conversation and the attack, the phone’s right there on the nightstand.”
“You… were recording?” Borya wilted.
“Of course, darling. Life’s complicated. I bought this coat, and I’ve got something to lose.” Natalia picked up her purse. “And tell Dasha: she can handle her own future. She’ll be demanding child support from her lover, if she can find him.”
She opened the front door and, as she was leaving, glanced back at Boris kneeling by his recovering mother.
“Oh, Borya, Borya… You really should be watching over your mother, or she’ll leave you penniless soon enough, all in the hopes of settling your sister. Goodbye.”
The door clicked shut, cutting Natalia off from this circus. In the stairwell, only the echo of her heels and the rustle of her new, gorgeous fur coat could be heard.