Victoria woke up on Saturday to the persistent ringing of the intercom. Sleepily, she stretched and glanced at the clock — eight in the morning. Denis had already jumped out of bed and rushed toward the door, pulling on a T-shirt as he went.
“Mom’s here!” he shouted happily from the hallway.
Victoria closed her eyes and exhaled. It had begun. A whole week in the company of her mother-in-law, her daughter Inna, her son-in-law Gennady, and three noisy nephews. Victoria was not thrilled by the prospect, but she did not object to her husband. He so rarely saw his relatives, who lived three hundred kilometers from the capital.
Raisa Fyodorovna burst into the apartment first, scanning the hallway and living room. Her lips tightened with displeasure.
“So where is this luxury you were talking about, Denis?” she said, looking around the ordinary two-room apartment in a panel building. “I thought you had a palace, since you live in the capital.”
The rest of the relatives trailed into the apartment behind her. Inna immediately collapsed onto the sofa without even taking off her jacket.
“Give me the Wi-Fi password,” she demanded, staring into her phone.
The three children raced through the rooms, exploring someone else’s home and opening every closet they could find. Gennady silently dragged bags in from the car, avoiding Victoria’s eyes.
The first day passed relatively calmly. Victoria cooked dinner and set the table. Raisa Fyodorovna criticized every dish, comparing it to the way she cooked at home. Inna complained about being tired from the road and never looked up from her phone. The children demanded attention, refused to eat the food Victoria had prepared, and asked for pizza.
“Vika, order them pizza,” Denis asked. “You can see the children are hungry.”
Victoria silently took out her phone and placed the order. The pizza cost €40 for the three children. Raisa Fyodorovna nodded approvingly.
“That’s more like it. Proper food for children.”
In the evening, her mother-in-law announced the plans for the next day.
“Denis, I want to take the grandchildren to a decent restaurant. We come to the capital once a year. The children need to see how people live.”
Victoria looked up from her laptop.
“Raisa Fyodorovna, maybe we could cook something delicious at home? As a family. Children love helping in the kitchen.”
Her mother-in-law grimaced as if she had swallowed something sour.
“We eat at home all the time. No, I want a restaurant. Denis, you’re not going to refuse your mother, are you?”
Denis looked helplessly from his wife to his mother.
“Well, we can go to a restaurant. I’ll find a good place.”
Victoria said nothing, but everything inside her tightened. She knew perfectly well how this outing would end. Her mother-in-law had already hinted several times that a successful son was obligated to help his family, that they had no money in their small town, and that things were different in the capital.
The next morning, Denis chose a mid-range restaurant on the embankment. It was a nice place, with panoramic windows and a view of the river. The average bill was about €30 per person. Denis expected to keep the total around €250 for everyone.
They arrived at two in the afternoon. Raisa Fyodorovna cast a critical glance around the dining room and called over the manager.
“Young man, move us to a table by the window. That one over there is becoming free. We want to see the river.”
The manager nodded politely and led the group to the requested table. The waiter brought the menus, and Victoria opened hers with a bad feeling. The prices were above average, but tolerable. The main thing was not to order the most expensive items.
Raisa Fyodorovna became deeply absorbed in the menu. Her finger slid down the page, stopping on the most expensive dishes.
“Denis, do they serve oysters here? I’ve wanted to try real oysters for ages.”
“Mom, maybe something else? Oysters are expensive.”
“What, are you sorry to spend money on your own mother?” her voice rose, attracting attention from nearby tables. “I come to the capital once a year, and I’m not even allowed to eat properly?”
Denis gave in.
“Of course, order them.”
Raisa Fyodorovna ordered a dozen oysters for €90 and a bottle of white wine for €80. Inna, inspired by her mother’s example, chose Kamchatka crab and three different cocktails. Gennady silently pointed at a three-hundred-gram marbled beef steak.
“And what shall we get for the children?” Raisa Fyodorovna returned to the menu. “Here, let them try langoustines, veal, and pasta with truffles. Let them know that proper food exists in this world.”
Victoria clenched her hands under the table. The bill had already gone past €500, and she and Denis had not even ordered anything for themselves yet.
“Raisa Fyodorovna, maybe that’s too much for the children? They won’t eat it all.”
Her mother-in-law looked at her daughter-in-law with undisguised contempt.
“Vika, dear, surely you understand that children should try different things. We don’t have that opportunity at home. Denis, you don’t mind, do you?”
Denis spread his hands helplessly. The waiter wrote down the order with the stone-faced professionalism of someone who had seen everything.
Lunch turned into an endless sequence of dishes, extra orders, and new bottles of wine. Raisa Fyodorovna and Inna drank three bottles of wine between them and were clearly in high spirits. The children ran between the tables, knocked over two glasses of water, and broke one wine glass. Gennady sat with an absent expression and methodically devoured one dish after another.
“Bring more desserts!” Raisa Fyodorovna waved her hand. “And good cognac. You have French cognac, don’t you?”
Four hours later, the waiter approached the table with the bill. Denis took the leather folder and opened it. His face turned gray.
€750.
Victoria saw the number and froze. Seven hundred fifty euros for one lunch. That was half of her monthly salary. That was Denis’s entire salary.
Denis looked helplessly at his wife, then at his mother. Raisa Fyodorovna stood up from the table, adjusting her blouse and looking very pleased with herself. She turned to Victoria with an icy smile.
“Dear, you pay. We’ll wait outside.”
Inna immediately stood up and grabbed her bag. Gennady silently followed his wife. The children ran toward the exit, shouting. Raisa Fyodorovna walked majestically toward the door without looking back.
Victoria sat there, unable to move. Blood rushed to her face, and her ears burned. The waiter stood nearby with the bill, waiting patiently. People at the neighboring tables were sneaking glances at her, clearly understanding the situation.
“Vika, I…” Denis tried to say something.
“Be quiet,” she said, taking her card out of her bag.
Denis jumped up and ran after his mother, but she had already gone outside. Victoria paid the bill, left the required tip, and slowly rose from the table. Her hands were shaking, but she forced herself to walk calmly, not revealing the emotions raging inside her.
Outside, Raisa Fyodorovna was cheerfully chatting with her daughter, pointing at the cars passing by. The children were jumping around, begging for ice cream. Gennady was smoking off to the side.
Victoria came out of the restaurant, and her mother-in-law turned to her with a wide smile.
“Thank you, dear, for a wonderful lunch. I haven’t relaxed like that in a long time. Right, Innochka?”
“Yes, Mom, it was excellent. Maybe we can go to another restaurant tomorrow?”
Victoria silently walked past them to the car. She got behind the wheel and started the engine. Denis sat in the passenger seat, while the others squeezed into the back.
Victoria remained silent the entire way home. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Denis tried several times to speak, but stopped every time he saw her stone-like face.
At home, Victoria went into the bedroom, locked the door, and sat there for an hour, putting her thoughts in order. €750. Just like that. For one lunch. And they had not even tried to split the bill.
She came out of the bedroom and saw her mother-in-law comfortably settled on the sofa with a glass of wine.
“Ah, Vika, there you are. We were just thinking about tomorrow’s plan. Maybe we should go to a water park? The children really want to.”
Victoria stopped in the middle of the living room.
“Raisa Fyodorovna, your visit is over. You are leaving tomorrow morning.”
Her mother-in-law choked on her wine.
“What? What do you mean we’re leaving? We came for a week!”
“Plans have changed. Tomorrow at nine in the morning, you pack your things and leave.”
“Denis!” Raisa Fyodorovna screamed. “Do you hear what your wife is saying?”
Denis came out of the bathroom, looking confused.
“Vika, maybe we shouldn’t be so harsh?”
Victoria turned to her husband.
“Denis, your mother forced me to pay €750 for lunch today. She didn’t even think about splitting the bill. She simply stood up and left, leaving me to pay for that entire feast. That is called rudeness and shamelessness.”
“How dare you!” Raisa Fyodorovna jumped up from the sofa. “I am your mother-in-law! In our family, the younger ones treat the elders!”
“In my family, we don’t feed freeloaders who cannot even say thank you. Tomorrow at nine, you are leaving. That’s final.”
Victoria turned around and went back to the bedroom. Behind her, she heard her mother-in-law wailing, Inna’s voice, and Gennady mumbling something. She did not care.
The night passed in tense silence. Denis slept on the sofa, not daring to enter the bedroom. In the morning, Victoria got up at seven, took a shower, and began making breakfast. A normal, simple breakfast — fried eggs, toast, coffee.
At eight, sleepy Inna appeared.
“Where are the pancakes? You know the children like pancakes in the morning.”
“There won’t be any pancakes. Eat what there is.”
“Vika, why are you so angry? Because of yesterday? That’s normal when relatives come to visit. You treat them.”
Victoria put down her fork.
“Inna, treating guests means cooking lunch at home. It means baking a pie. It means making soup. It does not mean paying €750 for one restaurant lunch after your whole family stuffed themselves, got drunk, and then dumped the bill on me.”
“Oh, come on. You have plenty of money. You won’t become poor.”
“You are leaving at nine. Pack your things.”
By nine, Victoria made sure that all the bags had been packed and carried to the car. Raisa Fyodorovna came out of the bedroom with red eyes and an offended face.
“Denis, son, you understand we are being thrown out, don’t you? Your wife is throwing out your own mother!”
Denis stood by the window, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
“Mom, let’s just go. Vika is right. Yesterday was too much.”
“Oh, really! So you’re on her side! Fine, stay with your greedy wife! We’re leaving!”
Raisa Fyodorovna gathered the children, Inna, and Gennady and walked out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly. The minibus door shut with a dull thud, the engine started, and the vehicle drove out of the courtyard.
Victoria stood by the window, watching the minibus leave. Denis came up behind her.
“Vika, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”
“Denis, I want you to understand one thing. Not one more cent to your mother and her family. Not one. After the rudeness she showed yesterday, I will not give her anything. And I advise you not to either.”
“But she’s my mother…”
“Your mother shamelessly used us. She ordered the most expensive things, got drunk, stuffed herself, and dumped the bill on me. Without a single word of thanks. That is called arrogance.”
Denis remained silent, staring at the floor.
“If you want to help her, help her from your own money. But my money will no longer go toward supporting your relatives.”
Victoria went into the kitchen and began clearing the dishes. The apartment was a mess after the guests. Sofa cushions were scattered on the floor, dirty plates remained on the table, and a mountain of unwashed dishes filled the sink.
She methodically washed the plates, placed them on the drying rack, and wiped the countertop. Physical work helped her calm down and organize her thoughts.
€750. She worked an entire month for half of that amount. And her mother-in-law had blown it in four hours on oysters, wine, and steaks. She had not even thought to say thank you.
That evening, Victoria sat down at the computer and made a spreadsheet of all the transfers she had sent to Denis’s relatives over the three years of their marriage. It came to €2,300. For medical treatment, repairs, groceries, clothes for the children. Small amounts here and there, but together they formed a serious sum.
She showed the spreadsheet to Denis.
“Look. In three years, I transferred €2,300 to your relatives. Plus yesterday’s €750. €3,050. That is more than we have saved for the down payment on a mortgage.”
Denis turned pale as he looked at the numbers.
“I didn’t know it was that much…”
“Now you know. And now you understand why I said enough. Your mother decided we were a free ATM for her. That she could come here, eat at our expense, and leave without even saying thank you. That is not family. That is exploitation.”
Denis sat on the sofa, holding his head in his hands.
“What am I supposed to do now? Mom will call, cry, accuse me.”
“Learn to say no. Just no. Without excuses, without explanations. No money means no money. We can’t come means we can’t come. We don’t want guests means we don’t want guests.”
“But she’s my mother…”
“So what? Does that give her the right to behave like the most shameless, rude woman imaginable? Denis, open your eyes. Your mother does not respect you. She respects only your money. Or rather, my money, because I was the one who paid for that lunch yesterday.”
Victoria closed the laptop and looked at her husband.
“You have a choice. Either you learn to set boundaries with your relatives, or I will no longer participate in this circus. My money will remain my money.”
Two days later, Raisa Fyodorovna called Denis. Victoria could hear her voice even from a distance — her mother-in-law was shouting into the phone, accusing her daughter-in-law of every sin imaginable.
“That upstart threw me out! Your own mother! How dare she!”
Denis listened silently, occasionally saying, “Mom, please understand,” and “Mom, there was a reason.”
“What reason! We simply went to a restaurant! She’s rich, she can afford it!”
“Mom, the bill was €750. Do you understand how much money that is?”
“Oh, please! You have big salaries!”
Denis exhaled.
“Mom, nothing like that will happen again. If you come to visit, we will sit at home and cook together. No restaurants at our expense.”
The line went dead. Raisa Fyodorovna did not want to listen anymore.
Victoria stood in the bedroom doorway and watched her husband. He put the phone on the table and rubbed his face with his hands.
“I can’t keep doing this, Vika. My mother is pressuring me from one side, and you from the other.”
“Denis, I’m not pressuring you. I’m protecting our money from people who want to live at our expense. Do you feel the difference?”
He nodded.
“Yes. I do.”
Victoria came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Learn to say no. That does not mean you are a bad son. It means you are an adult man with his own family and his own priorities. Your mother will survive perfectly well without a €750 restaurant lunch.”
Denis hugged his wife.
“I’m sorry it happened this way. I truly didn’t think she would act like that.”
“Now you know. And now you’ll be careful.”
From that day on, Victoria stopped transferring money to her husband’s relatives. Raisa Fyodorovna called several more times, trying to beg for money — first for medicine, then for repairs. Denis learned to answer briefly: “There’s no money, Mom. We’re saving for an apartment ourselves.”
Inna wrote messages complaining about her difficult life and asking for at least something for the children. Victoria blocked her number without regret.
Six months later, the young family had saved enough for a mortgage down payment. They bought a three-room apartment in a good neighborhood and began a new life. Without intrusive relatives, without begging for money, without restaurant lunches at someone else’s expense.
Victoria taught her husband the most important thing: family begins with respect and boundaries. And where there are no boundaries, there is no family. There are only consumers ready to drain you dry and disappear when the money runs out.