Provincial,’ that’s the first word Nastya heard from her future mother-in-law.
Yes, she was from a small town, but that didn’t mean it was a backward area. There were excellent schools, even an institute and a university – it wasn’t a province at all, just a small peripheral town.
Galina Viktorovna had been watching the girl for a long time. Her bright red hair frightened her. She frowned as if she were looking at fire, shrugged as she examined her freckles, and upon seeing the multicolored sundress, she felt sick. Quite literally sick – she became nauseated, and the mother-in-law rushed off to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Oleg, her future husband at the time, reassured her.
He always supported her, even when old lady Akulina emerged from her room and probably stood silently for an hour, scrutinizing the girl. He too didn’t leave his fiancée’s side.
“Hang in there, that’s the toughest part,” Oleg said ironically.
Old lady Akulina had a prickly gaze. She seemed to smile, but her smile was laced with a snarl. It seemed that one wrong word from the bride – and the old lady would snap at her like a little dog that barks incessantly and lunges forward.
However, Nastya didn’t care at all: relatives of your husband are just that – your husband’s relatives. Her own family wasn’t perfect either, but she loved them. And so, whether you like it or not, you have to get used to the mother-in-law, the father-in-law, and, of course, old lady Akulina, who at the end of the day uttered just one word: “broad.”
Galina Viktorovna was proud of her origins. She had been an accountant for three generations. Old lady Akulina – her mother – had been a bookkeeper at a factory, her own mother never parted from the ledgers. And, as Nastya learned, her sister-in-law Yulia had also entered an institute to study economics.
Galina Viktorovna didn’t say it openly, but Nastya understood that she was displeased with her son’s choice. Apparently, he couldn’t find a city girl who was smart, had an apartment, and prospects. And, once again, Nastya just let it slide, if only because she had a red diploma. She worked very well, having passed the selection round, and was immediately accepted for a good position. The salary was quite decent for a young specialist. She felt confident, and Oleg further bolstered that confidence.
“Here’s what,” Alexey Stepanovich said, “live here – don’t waste money on renting. We have a four-room apartment: in one room my wife and I stay, in the other – the old lady,” he didn’t even call old lady Akulina by her name, simply referring to her as “the old lady,” “the hall, and it’s yours,” he said, looking at his son. “Live in it.”
On the first day, Alexey Stepanovich wore a shirt – which looked quite nice. But when he put on a T-shirt, Nastya immediately noticed a sagging male chest under the thin fabric, resembling the chest of an old spinster who had never worn underwear. A rather horrible sight.
Nastya pondered. The idea was good, and she had already called a real estate agency. It turned out that if you rent a furnished apartment, most of your salary would go solely to rent, and everything else to food. In the end, nothing would be left in your pocket.
Oleg supported his father’s idea, and though Nastya was reluctant at first, she agreed. She doubted only one thing: how she would get along with her mother-in-law and that grumbling old lady Akulina, who, it seemed, didn’t know a single kind word.
“Broad, come here!” old lady Akulina started shouting from early in the morning, demanding that Nastya tidy up her room.
“How did you used to keep things in order here?” Nastya once asked her.
“Shut up!” the old lady snapped sharply, pointing at the rumpled bed. “Make the bed!”
Feeling hurt, Nastya complained to her husband:
“Oleg, how can this be? Did you hear that?”
To which Oleg merely shrugged and, citing that they were living with his parents, added:
“You have to follow their rules.”
Nastya decided to set up a blockade for herself. Her mother had taught her this: if someone shouts at you in a store, imagine that they are inside a glass jar. There sits this guy barking away, and you watch him and think, ‘Feed him or not?’
This idea pleased Nastya. Now everyone who looked at her askance – not to mention those who shouted – she mentally put in a jar. It worked. And even now, that grumbling old lady Akulina was put into such a little jar.
“Bring me some water!” old lady Akulina suddenly shouted again.
However, Nastya was not one to back down and immediately declared:
“I’m going to work; I don’t have time!”
Quickly dressing, she ran off.
But that was only the beginning. It seemed as if the mother-in-law was just waiting for a daughter-in-law to appear in the house, and after burdening her with all the household chores, was now simply writing a list of things that needed to be done: washing, cleaning, taking down the curtains, ironing, dusting, vacuuming, washing, going to the store, and, of course, cooking.
“And here’s the most problematic part,” Nastya sighed, “my father-in-law prefers fatty foods, while Nalyina Viktorovna loves lean dishes. With old lady Akulina it’s much more complicated: she didn’t like anything, yet she ate everything. But before anything went into her mouth, she would grumble for about five minutes.”
Oleg turned out to be an omnivore, which greatly cheered Nastya.
There were no days off – from morning till night, it was household work. And on ordinary days, as soon as Nastya came home from work, she started bustling around the house.
She considered it temporary: a month or two she would endure, and then she’d rent an apartment and live peacefully. But Oleg didn’t want to move out. She told him several times that it was time, but he seemed afraid to leave his mother’s “tender” – as they said in their town about men who feared leaving the parental home. And so Nastya endured: she endured her mother-in-law’s indignation, old lady Akulina’s squeamish grumbling, and the sticky look from her father-in-law. Only Oleg protected her, but he did so only in the privacy of his room, once the door was closed; until then, he was completely under his mother’s control.
“Exactly like a mama’s boy,” Nastya thought to herself, watching how her husband nodded as Galina Viktorovna once again reprimanded her. He nodded even when old lady Akulina shouted at Nastya, demanding that she immediately water the flowers in her room.
Once, after work, Nastya visited her friend. Irina was already married to Alexey and had a daughter, Vika. After listening to Nastya’s story, her friend sighed heavily.
“Run, while it’s not too late, run,” Irina insisted.
“Where to? I’ve already suggested to Oleg to move out ten times, but he won’t.”
“Just run anyway! It’ll only get worse. When Alexey and I lived with my parents, it was one thing when my mother started having issues with him, but your mother-in-law – that’s even worse. So run.”
Nastya didn’t want to resort to such a drastic decision. She knew that the perpetually dissatisfied mother-in-law would get up in arms, the father-in-law would immediately rally, and old lady Akulina would bare her teeth as if she were really a shark. No, she wanted to wait and hoped that Oleg would eventually agree.
One evening, Galina Viktorovna once again scolded the daughter-in-law for not ironing the bed linen properly and for preparing dinner very late.
“I’m working!” Nastya snapped irritably.
Lately, her mood had been off: she felt she had stopped smiling, and horrible thoughts began to fill her head, exactly like those of old lady Akulina. Now she felt like arguing.
“She’s working, you see,” Galina Viktorovna grumbled.
“Actually, I’m working just like my husband,” Nastya replied again, emphasizing the last word and looking at Oleg, who sat calmly in front of the television.
“My son is earning money,” her mother-in-law said with some pride.
“Actually, I’m also earning money,” Nastya countered.
“Peanuts,” the old lady Akulina added in a gruff voice.
Nastya looked at her husband, but he didn’t react to her words at all. She continued:
“My salary is eighty thousand.”
Upon hearing this, Galina Viktorovna’s jaw slowly dropped, and old lady Akulina started chattering.
“What in the world are you being paid eighty thousand for, and what services do you render?” she hissed.
“You’re earning a pre-tax salary,” the old lady squeaked.
At that moment, Oleg tore himself away from the television and looked attentively at his wife.
“Is it true that you earn eighty thousand?” he inquired.
“Yes,” Nastya replied.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“Have you even been interested in me lately? It seems you only care about your cabbage soup, your socks with your shirt, and keeping your mother happy. Although I told you I was taking upgrade courses, told you I underwent attestation, told you I was transferred to another department. Well, you don’t remember any of that, do you?”
Oleg lowered his gaze in embarrassment.
“It’s good that your salary is higher,” Oleg said after a pause, and then added, “then you should contribute more to the family budget.”
“Why?” Nastya just wanted to know why she now had to contribute more.
“Because you earn more.”
“Brilliant,” she smirked.
But she didn’t elaborate further. She was already spending almost her entire salary on the family – someone else’s family. She bought detergent, groceries, and last month, she even bought a new iron. And now her father-in-law hinted that it was time to get a television too.
A few days later, Nastya met her sister Valya, who had also moved from the provinces to the big city.
“Why can’t people come over to your place?” her sister asked, raising her eyebrows in astonishment.
“You see,” Nastya hesitated, “in the house where I grew up, friends would always come over and even stay the night. But Galina Viktorovna immediately declared that she wouldn’t tolerate outsiders in the house.”
“And what’s the atmosphere like there?” her sister inquired.
“Quite unusual,” Nastya continued. “My mother-in-law, my father-in-law, and that old lady Akulina… She’s like Cerberus! She never leaves the house, always watching everything. It seems she’ll soon see me off even to the bath.”
“Terrible,” Valya said, not believing her ears.
“Not an understatement!” Nastya replied sadly.
“Move out!” Valya suggested. “Rent isn’t that expensive, and you have a high salary now. I’m renting a studio for twenty-five, though I don’t have any appliances, but that’s minor. For thirty, you can rent a very nice apartment. You have a magnificent salary. Come on, decide!”
That evening, Nastya checked a real estate website and estimated that if she chose an expensive rental (and there was room for negotiation), it would be more than enough. Considering that she’d be living with her husband, they’d have plenty of money.
“Let’s rent an apartment,” she proposed to her husband that evening.
“Why do that?” Oleg asked with an innocent look.
“I’m tired of serving your mother and the old lady! We have our own family, and I don’t want to live like this anymore.”
“Come on, we have a free room,” Oleg replied, not understanding her mood.
“No!” Nastya snapped sharply. “Outside this room are your mother, father, and old lady Akulina. This isn’t our apartment, it’s theirs! If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m a servant in this house,” she said with disdain as she looked at her husband. “And you just sit there staring at the television, never once helping me, only nodding…”
“Broad!” came the shrill voice of old lady Akulina from the next room.
“Well, here we go…” Nastya sighed heavily, opened the bedroom door, and stepped into the hall.
“What happened?” someone asked as she rubbed her temples.
“Come here, broad, and hurry up!” commanded the old lady.
“Enough is enough,” Nastya muttered to herself as she entered old lady Akulina’s room.
It turned out that all that was needed was to push aside the flower pots, because the old lady had decided to crack open the window.
“Why is the dinner ready?” a voice came from the kitchen – Galina Viktorovna’s.
“It’s ready; it’s on the stove, you can serve it!” the daughter-in-law shouted loudly.
“Don’t yell!” came the displeased retort.
“Are we eating?!” the father-in-law’s voice boomed.
And then it began… For about twenty minutes, they all scolded her; each found their own reasons, while all the while Oleg stood aside, finding it easier to just watch his wife.
Late in the evening, when everyone had gone to sleep, Nastya declared:
“Tomorrow I’m moving out! Like you like it or not, I’m done with all this!”
“Stop it! I’ll talk to my mother so that she…”
“No, it’s useless! They’re always dissatisfied with something. Whatever I do, it’s bad: come early – bad, come late – also bad, didn’t cook – bad, cooked – then no one’s pleased. Everything’s bad with them, and I’m fed up! I’m not a servant. Tomorrow I’m moving out!”
The next morning, it seemed Oleg had already informed his mother of his wife’s intentions.
“I’m not letting you go!” the old woman shrieked.
“If you won’t let me, I’ll call the police!” Nastya declared firmly.
“Looks like you want to hide your late-night escapades!” Galina Viktorovna’s familiar tune about infidelity began playing again. “You’re a tramp! Finally, you’ve openly declared what you’re doing.”
“Everyone has their own messed-up thoughts, and it seems you’re really troubled by the topic of infidelity. Surely there’s a reason for that,” Nastya said mockingly.
The father-in-law, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen, silently watched his wife.
“Indeed,” Nastya thought to herself, “with a man like that, you’d definitely be tempted to stray.”
Oleg tried once again to stop his wife, but she was unyielding. Arriving with a small bag, she left with that very same bag.
Nastya sent Oleg the address of the apartment where she would now live via his phone. Only on the second day did her husband show up at the door.
“You’ve left them!” Oleg said disapprovingly, arms crossed.
“I had no one to leave but you!” Nastya retorted reproachfully. “You’re my husband, and they’re your relatives – they have nothing to do with me.”
“My mother is very upset,” Oleg said quietly, looking away.
“Of course she is!” Nastya replied with irony. “Who now will vacuum the floor, dust, and cook? And who will bring your father a beer? And now your old lady Akulina will have to fetch a glass of water herself. What a nightmare…” she huffed.
“My father is upset too,” Oleg said, unpacking his suitcase.
“Not a single word of gratitude from them – not even from your father!” Nastya countered. “Only demands. How did you ever live among them? It’s a nightmare! I feel like crawling out of the bath and washing away all this filth.”
“Alright, don’t complain,” Oleg replied, understanding that living with his parents wasn’t a good idea.
Half an hour later, Nastya’s sister-in-law Yulia visited. Nastya had met her only a couple of times since Yulia didn’t like coming to her parents’ house. Now, sitting in the kitchen, Yulia was telling her story.
“I got married just to get away from them,” Yulia sighed with relief, as if she had just set down huge grocery bags. “They’re always grumbling and quarreling!”
“And now?” Nastya asked, listening carefully.
“Gloomy…” Yulia admitted. “My daughter is born, Vika, and with my husband…” then she fell silent, and by the look in her eyes, Nastya understood that she wasn’t lucky with him.
Nastya didn’t press for details; everyone had their secrets, and not everyone wished to divulge them.
A month later, old lady Akulina suffered a stroke. Nastya only heard about it in passing, but through her husband, she learned that the old lady had lost the use of her legs. When she was brought from the hospital, she lay constantly in her bed.
A couple of times Oleg ran off to his mother’s house, coming back sullen and silent, and afterward said:
“My mother is suggesting we go back to them.”
Hearing that, Nastya immediately declared:
“Not a chance!”
“Mother says she can’t handle the old lady,” Oleg added, not knowing how to react.
“I don’t care,” his wife replied coldly, as if speaking of an object rather than a person.
“Don’t be so heartless,” he tried to persuade her.
“I’m never going back to your mother’s. I’m not interested in what’s happening there. They have Galina Viktorovna and your father – let them cope on their own!”
For about twenty minutes, Oleg pleaded with his wife, assuring her that his mother would no longer raise her voice, wouldn’t cook in the kitchen, and that he would help with the cleaning. But all those were just words; Oleg had said such things before.
Nastya stared at her husband for a long moment before saying:
“I’ll think about it.”
But she only said that to make him drop the subject, because in truth she just wanted to go to sleep.
However, the next day, Oleg brought up the subject of moving back to his parents’ again.
“Have you thought about it?” he asked, hoping for a positive answer.
“No,” Nastya said coldly, unwilling to continue the conversation.
The apartment Nastya had rented had to be vacated – the owner’s nephew had arrived. Surprisingly, Oleg got busy and rented a new apartment. It wasn’t any worse than the previous one, perhaps just a bit more expensive, but that wasn’t a problem since it was located closer to the bus stop.
“My mother can’t cope,” Oleg reiterated, and Nastya understood only one thing: if she went back, she would be caring for old lady Akulina. Only for that reason did her mother-in-law even try to persuade her.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she answered, trying to hide her feelings.
“If you don’t come back,” he stated with such confidence as if everything were already decided, “I’ll divorce you.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nastya replied immediately in a tone devoid of emotion.
The next day, after Oleg spoke with his mother, he asked his wife again:
“Have you thought about it?”
“Yes, I’ve decided!” Nastya answered.
A smile appeared on Oleg’s face. The woman went into the bedroom, grabbed a suitcase, and began to pack her things.
“Right now?” her husband asked, puzzled, watching her actions.
“Yes, why wait?” Nastya calmly retorted. “I’ve thought it over – I’m divorcing you.”
At those words, Oleg’s face turned pale.
“How… how?” the man finally managed to stutter, unable to believe his ears.
“I’m fed up with your family!” Nastya declared sharply. “I’m not your servant, nor your mother’s. And you’ve long ceased to be my husband.”
Oleg panted, whispering something, uttering belated apologies and foolish promises that he himself didn’t believe.
Nastya, having packed her suitcase, left without even looking at him, without regret.
Half an hour later, Galina Viktorovna called. Oleg flinched, sat for a while staring at the screen, while the phone kept vibrating. Finally, he answered.
“So, when will your broad come?” Galina Viktorovna’s voice rang with anger. “Let her stop by the store on her way and buy everything for dinner,” she continued without pause.
“Mother,” Oleg tried to interject, but Galina Viktorovna wasn’t about to listen.
“Buy soft cheese – don’t be stingy! And some richer curd. And what? Let her buy a kilogram of bananas, only yellow ones, and as soon as possible!”
“Mother!” Oleg attempted once again to break in.
“Well, speak up faster!” she snapped.
“She’s gone,” he added.
“Wonderful!” Galina Viktorovna said irritably. “Call her, let her stop by the store…”
“She left me,” Oleg added, pausing for a long moment. “She left me…”
“Scoundrel!” his mother burst out. “After losing such a broad, what am I supposed to do now?”
“Figure it out on your own,” her son replied coldly and hung up the phone.
Meanwhile, Nastya, happy and smiling, walked down the street. She was joyful, despite the drizzling rain and her lack of an umbrella. Perhaps for the first time in a year she felt as free as ever. She smiled at everyone – literally everyone: at the sullen passersby, at the ice cream sellers standing under the shop’s awning, and at some legless beggar. Though he forgot to hide his expensive watch, surely worth a couple of thousand dollars.
Nastya simply walked and smiled. Now she believed that a new life was starting for her from tomorrow.”