Olga stood by the kitchen window, looking out at the yard where Andrei was tending the barbecue. The new house behind them still smelled of fresh paint and timber, while the air was filled with the aroma of marinated meat and charcoal smoke. It should have been a happy occasion: their housewarming, the first guests in the home they had spent three years building while saving money on absolutely everything.
But Olga felt no joy.
“Ol, why do you look so miserable?” Andrei asked, peering through the window as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s a celebration!”
Olga silently nodded toward the driveway, where her brother-in-law’s beat-up old Lada was pulling in. Volodya and his family were supposed to have arrived half an hour earlier, but, as usual, they were late. And, as usual, that meant the meat would dry out, the coals would burn down, and the mood would be completely ruined.
“Why are you getting worked up already?” Andrei tried to smile. “He’s still my brother. He’s family.”
“Family,” Olga repeated mockingly as she arranged sliced tomatoes on plates. “When we needed financial help, he forgot we were family. When we started building the house, we weren’t family either. But as soon as there’s a table full of food, he suddenly becomes our closest relative.”
Andrei shrugged awkwardly. He knew his wife was right, but what could he do? Volodya had practically invited himself to the housewarming and had been so persistent that refusing him had felt uncomfortable.
“Andryukha, what are you saying? You’re not going to invite your own brother to see the house? What about your nephews?” he had whined over the phone.
Then, with exaggerated hurt in his voice, he had added, “I’ve always supported you.”
Supported them—with words.
Olga remembered that “support” very well. When she and Andrei had first married and were renting a tiny one-room apartment on the outskirts of the city, Volodya often turned up empty-handed but with an enormous appetite. He could stay until midnight, talking about his grand plans and complaining about how unfair life was.
When they began saving for the house, he was the first to make fun of them.
“Look at the rich people! Building themselves a castle!”
“They’re here,” Olga muttered when she heard car doors slamming.
Volodya appeared at the gate wearing his usual squinting expression. His wife, Sveta, trailed behind him—a thin woman whose face always seemed dissatisfied. Behind her came their two children, around eight and ten years old, who had already managed to get dirty during the drive.
“Brother!” Volodya exclaimed, wrapping Andrei in such a tight embrace that anyone would have thought they had not seen each other in years, even though they had met only a month earlier at their mother’s birthday celebration. “Now this is impressive! Look at the palace you’ve built!”
His gaze swept across the property, lingering on the house, the gazebo, and the carefully maintained flower beds. Something flashed in his eyes, and Olga noticed it immediately. It was not admiration. It was calculation.
“Sveta, go and talk to the lady of the house,” Volodya instructed his wife before heading straight for the barbecue. “And we men will take care of the manly work.”
Sveta hesitantly approached Olga, who was placing salads on the table.
“It’s beautiful here,” she muttered, although there was no warmth in her voice. “It must have cost a fortune.”
“Well…” Olga replied vaguely.
Without waiting for permission, Volodya’s children had already begun wandering around the property, touching everything and loudly discussing what they saw.
“Mom, are they going to have a swimming pool?” the younger one shouted.
“Why don’t we have a house like this?” the older one added.
Embarrassed, Sveta scolded them.
“Be quiet! Not everyone is so lucky…”
Olga felt her shoulders tighten.
Lucky?
She and Andrei had worked themselves to exhaustion to save enough for this house. Andrei had held two jobs, while she had taken extra work on weekends. For three years, they had barely bought themselves anything new. They had given up vacations and counted every coin.
Yet to these people, they had simply been “lucky.”
“So, when will the meat be ready?” Volodya asked, rubbing his hands together as he approached the table. “We’re starving after the drive!”
“About ten more minutes,” Andrei replied, turning the skewers.
“That’s taking a while,” Volodya drawled, examining the table. “And why did you prepare so little? For six people, this is nothing!”
Olga clenched her teeth.
Too little?
She had spent the entire day in the kitchen. She had prepared three different salads, marinated two kilograms of the best lamb they could find, sliced vegetables, and baked a pie.
And Volodya was already complaining.
“There’ll be enough. Don’t worry,” Andrei tried to reassure his brother.
“I’m not worried. I’m just saying.”
Volodya shrugged and was the first to reach for the meat the moment Andrei removed the skewers from the fire.
“You built such a grand house, but skimped on the barbecue,” her brother-in-law complained, piling a generous amount of meat onto his plate.
Silence fell over the table. Even the children stopped talking for a moment, sensing the tension.
Olga felt anger boiling inside her. She remembered all the months they had spent preparing for the housewarming and all the conversations she and Andrei had shared about how wonderful it would be to welcome guests into their own home.
Now their very first guest was accusing them of being stingy before he had even properly tasted the food.
“Volodya,” she said quietly but firmly, “perhaps you should finish what you’ve already put on your plate before deciding whether there’s enough.”
Volodya looked at her in surprise but continued chewing, clearly having no intention of stopping.
“I’m not complaining. I’m simply stating a fact,” he said with his mouth full. “Everything here is so luxurious, but the food is rather modest. This is a housewarming party. It’s supposed to be a celebration!”
Andrei glanced anxiously at his wife. He could see her hands trembling and her lips tightening. He knew the warning signs. A little more, and Olga would explode.
“Volodya, that’s enough,” he tried to intervene. “We worked hard to prepare all this for you.”
“I appreciate it, I appreciate it,” Volodya said, waving one hand while continuing to eat. “But you know, I’ve just had an idea. What if I take some of the meat home with me? For tomorrow, so to speak.”
Sveta choked on her salad, and the children stared at their father with wide eyes.
“What exactly do you mean?” Olga asked slowly.
“Well, you invited us to your housewarming,” Volodya explained patiently, as though speaking to a child. “That means you’re supposed to take care of your guests. Sveta has had to spend the entire day here instead of cooking at home, so naturally we need to take something with us to eat tomorrow. It’s only logical.”
Olga felt the world beginning to blur before her eyes.
Even from Volodya, she had not expected such audacity. He had not only come to stuff himself for free—he was now demanding that they feed his family the following day as well.
“Volodya,” she began, trying to remain calm, “do you understand what you’re saying?”
“Of course I understand,” he replied, genuinely surprised by the question. “What’s so difficult to understand? You invited us, and we came. We spent our time and money on petrol. Now you’re supposed to receive us properly.”
“Supposed to?” Olga repeated, and something dangerous entered her voice.
Andrei placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off.
“So we owe you something, do we? We spent three years building this house and worked ourselves to the bone. We used our last bit of money to prepare this table. And now we’re also supposed to provide you with food for tomorrow?”
“Oh, Olga, why are you getting so worked up?” Volodya asked with a patronizing smile. “Relax. I’m not asking for anything impossible. You’ll give us a little meat. Will that really make you poor? You have a house like this now. You have so many opportunities…”
“What opportunities?” Olga finally snapped. “We’re buried in debt! We have a twenty-year mortgage! We built this house by denying ourselves everything!”
“So what?” Volodya shrugged. “At least you live like royalty now. Meanwhile, we’re still stuck in the same two-bedroom apartment.”
“The apartment where you live for free because it belongs to your mother!” Olga blurted out.
Volodya frowned.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ve spent your entire life living at other people’s expense! You don’t buy your own apartment—you use your mother’s. You don’t cook your own food—you invite yourself to other people’s homes. And then you demand that they pack leftovers for you!”
“Ol, that’s enough,” Andrei tried to intervene, but his wife could no longer be stopped.
“No, it isn’t enough!”
Olga rose from the table.
“Do you know what I think of you, Volodya? I think you’re a parasite. An ordinary parasite who has spent his entire life living off other people’s hard work and still has the nerve to complain that he isn’t given enough!”
Volodya’s face turned crimson.
“How dare you speak to me like that? I’m your husband’s brother!”
“You’re nobody to me!” Olga snapped. “A real brother is someone who helps you when life becomes difficult, not someone who turns up only to eat and complain!”
Frightened, Sveta tugged at her husband’s sleeve.
“Volodya, perhaps we should go.”
“Not a chance!” he barked. “I’m finishing my meal first! Why did we come all this way?”
“Why did you come?” Olga laughed nervously. “Did you contribute a single penny toward this meal?”
“Why should I have? You invited us!”
“We invited you as guests, not as freeloaders we were expected to feed!”
Volodya jumped to his feet so abruptly that his chair toppled over.
“That’s enough! Andrei, are you listening to what your wife is saying?”
Andrei sat with his head lowered. Olga could see how much he was suffering, torn between his wife and his brother.
But silence was also a choice.
“I hear her,” Andrei finally said quietly. “And she’s right.”
Volodya stared at him in disbelief.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s right, Volodya. You really do…” Andrei paused, searching for the right words. “You always take. When we were struggling, you were nowhere to be found.”
“How dare you?” Volodya shouted. “I’m your closest relative! We share the same blood!”
“The same blood,” Olga said with a nod. “But blood comes in different forms. There’s the blood that flows through your veins, and then there’s the blood that leeches suck out of you.”
Sveta burst into tears and hurried the children toward the car. Volodya continued shouting for several minutes about how ungrateful they were and how everything was clear to him now.
Eventually, he left as well, slamming the gate behind him.
The car did not start immediately. The old Lada was temperamental, and Volodya spent a long time turning the key and grinding the starter, which only made his dramatic departure seem even more ridiculous.
When the sound of the engine finally disappeared around the corner, Andrei and Olga remained seated at the table in complete silence. The coals in the barbecue were dying, the meat was growing cold, and the festive mood had vanished without a trace.
“Well, that was a wonderful housewarming,” Olga said bitterly.
Andrei remained silent, poking at his salad with a fork.
“Do you regret it?” she asked.
“Regret what?”
“Supporting me instead of your brother.”
Andrei lifted his head and looked at his wife. There were tears in her eyes—tears of anger, exhaustion, and disappointment.
“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t regret it. You were right. I just… I didn’t want to see it for a very long time.”
“And now you do?”
“Yes.”
He took her hand.
“I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Olga squeezed his fingers tightly. They sat quietly, surrounded by the remains of their celebratory dinner, inside the home they had worked so hard to build and had dreamed about for so long.
“Do you know what I’ve decided?” Olga finally said.
“What?”
“We’re never inviting him here again. In fact, I think we should avoid having any contact with him at all. We don’t need relatives like that.”
Andrei nodded.
“I agree. Enough is enough.”
They cleared the table in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Olga reflected on how unfortunate it was that the first housewarming celebration in their new home had been ruined. On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. It was better to settle everything immediately than to endure Volodya’s behavior for years while resentment continued to grow.
Andrei thought about how long he had ignored his brother’s behavior, how afraid he had always been of conflict, and how he had continued hoping that Volodya would change.
But people did not change—at least, not those who had no desire to change.
When the kitchen had been cleaned and the dishes washed, they stepped out onto the terrace. The sun was setting behind the forest, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
The house stood quiet and welcoming—their house, built with their own hands and through their own hard work.
“It’s beautiful,” Olga said, resting her head against her husband’s shoulder.
“Yes,” Andrei agreed. “And do you know something? I think it will be even more beautiful now.”
“Why?”
“Because from now on, only people who truly love us will come here.”
Olga smiled for the first time that entire day.
Yes, perhaps everything had worked out for the best. Their home did not need to be filled with a large number of guests. It needed to be filled with meaningful relationships.
Only those who came not to eat for free, but to share both their happiness and their sorrow, would sit at their table.
As for Volodya… Volodya would find other gullible people to take advantage of.
People like him always did.
“Listen,” Olga suddenly said. “Why don’t we invite your parents tomorrow? We can celebrate the housewarming properly.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Andrei said, brightening. “Mom will be very upset when she hears what happened.”
“She will,” Olga agreed. “But she’ll understand. She’s a sensible woman.”
They remained on the terrace for a long time, holding each other and watching the sunset.
Their first housewarming celebration had not turned out the way they had dreamed.
But perhaps it had turned out exactly the way it needed to.
Sometimes people had to go through a conflict to understand who their true friends were and who was merely a temporary fellow traveler.
The house stood strong and secure, built with love and created for love.
From that day forward, there would be no place inside it for people who loved only themselves.
