— You’re wasting my son’s money on nonsense, so you’d better account for it!
The enormous television on the wall was showing a sports channel with the sound muted. The green football field flickered across the screen, casting its glow over the guests as they ate.
Uncle Fedya was enthusiastically helping himself to salad, occasionally glancing at the screen. Aunt Alla carefully dabbed her lips with a napkin.
There was that dense, festive atmosphere around the table, filled with the aroma of roasted meat and the expensive perfume of Margarita’s mother-in-law.
— Now that’s something! — Maksim slapped his palm against the table to get his relatives’ attention. — Seventy-five inches, Uncle Fedya. Latest-generation panel. I spent a whole month choosing it so the family could watch movies in proper quality. Gorgeous!
He gazed lovingly at the television’s thin black frame and adjusted the new smartwatch with a metal bracelet on his wrist.
— Yes, Maksim, well done, — Elvira Leonidovna drawled, adjusting the amber brooch on her chest. — Everything for the home, everything for the family. A real man of the house. Unlike some people.
She cast a meaningful glance toward the kitchen, where Margarita was taking the second batch of hot food out of the oven.
Rita pretended not to hear. She transferred the potatoes onto a serving dish, wiped her hands with a damp napkin, and carried the food into the living room.
— Help yourself, Uncle Fedya, — Rita said, placing the dish in the middle of the table.
— Thank you, hostess, — Uncle Fedya said, reaching for a serving. — And that television really is something. Must have cost a fortune, huh?
Maksim waved his hand vaguely and took a sip from his glass.
— It was all right, — he said casually. — I bought it for myself, after all, not for strangers.
Elvira Leonidovna speared a pickled mushroom with her fork and stared intently at her daughter-in-law.
— There’s just one thing I don’t understand, Rita. Why does my son work himself to death from morning till night, ruining his health, while all you do is squander his hard-earned money?
A heavy silence fell over the table. Aunt Alla quickly lowered her eyes to her plate.
— Elvira Leonidovna, let’s not make a scene in front of the guests, — Rita said flatly as she took her seat at the edge of the table.
— And why should I be embarrassed? — her mother-in-law’s voice grew louder, drowning out the murmur of the television. — Let everyone know! My Maks is running around like a hamster on a wheel. He already has dark circles under his eyes from all the overtime he works at that office. And you, sweetheart, have made yourself very comfortable!
Maksim buried himself in the screen of his latest-model smartphone. He pretended to be reading some important messages, making it clear that he had no intention of getting involved in what he considered a women’s quarrel.
— Mom, let’s talk about this later, — he muttered without looking up.
— No, son, I’m not going to keep quiet! — Elvira Leonidovna slapped her palm against the tablecloth. — You’re far too kind. And this one is quite the fashion lover! I saw your new winter boots in the hallway, Margarita. Genuine leather, thick soles. Boots like those cost half an ordinary person’s salary at the shopping mall!
Rita pushed her plate away. Whatever appetite she had left disappeared completely.
— And exactly whose neck am I living off? — Rita looked directly at her husband’s mother. — I work.
— Oh, we know all about your “work”! — her mother-in-law snorted. — You sit at home in your pajamas in front of a laptop, pressing buttons. You earn a few pennies for your little personal expenses. But who pays the mortgage? Maks does! Who pays the utilities? Him again!
Aunt Alla tried to smooth things over, nervously rearranging the cutlery.
— Elvira, the young couple can sort this out themselves. Family finances are a delicate matter. It’s Fedya’s anniversary today. We came here to have a nice evening together. And look how delicious the meat is…
— Alla, stay out of it! — Elvira Leonidovna snapped at her sister. — I’m his mother. I have the right to know where the family’s money is going. I know perfectly well how expensive life is these days. And she orders grocery delivery so she doesn’t have to carry the bags herself, then runs off to the hairdresser to have her roots touched up.
Her mother-in-law paused to catch her breath and intertwined her fingers.
— You’re wasting my son’s money on nonsense, so you’d better account for it! Tell me down to the last penny where you’re spending my son’s salary!
Rita looked at her husband.
Maksim was sitting there in a new designer polo shirt. He continued scrolling through his newsfeed, making it obvious that he regarded the entire situation as nothing more than female hysteria unworthy of his attention.
— Maks, — Rita narrowed her eyes. — Don’t you have anything you’d like to tell your mother?
Her husband twitched his shoulder nervously.
— Rita, don’t start, okay? Mom’s had some wine. Why make things worse? Sit down and eat properly.
— I’m not making anything worse, — Rita said, leaning her back against the wall. — Your mother is demanding a financial report. Right here, right now. She’s accusing me of blowing your salary on things I want.
— And I have every right to demand one! — Elvira Leonidovna triumphantly looked around at the suddenly silent guests. — Because my son looks exhausted while you’re glowing with health. That means you’re living off him without a care in the world.
Rita slowly reached into the pocket of her lounge pants.
She took out her phone. She tapped the screen a couple of times without taking her eyes off her mother-in-law.
— This conversation is over, — Maksim said, trying to rise from the table. His face lengthened, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. — Mom, let’s go out onto the balcony and get some air. It’s stuffy in here.
— Sit down! — Rita ordered.
Her voice was so firm that Maksim dropped back into his chair before he had even managed to stand up completely.
Rita looked at her phone again, pulled down the menu, and tapped the casting icon.
The huge smart TV on the wall blinked.
The green football field disappeared.
Instead, the image from Rita’s phone appeared on the seventy-five-inch screen.
— What kind of trick is this? — Elvira Leonidovna asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.
— You asked for an account, — Rita said, opening her banking app. — Here you are. Look at everything. Since apparently tonight is the night for confessions and family bookkeeping.
The main page of her personal bank account appeared on the enormous screen.
Rita opened the transaction history.
On a screen that large, the numbers looked frighteningly clear.
Uncle Fedya involuntarily craned his neck forward. Aunt Alla covered her mouth with her hand.
— Here, Elvira Leonidovna, look carefully, — Rita said, tapping her phone while every action was mirrored on the television. — The twenty-fifth of every month. See this recurring payment? That’s the mortgage. Nearly fifty thousand goes toward it every month.
— So what? — her mother-in-law said, although her voice had already lost some of its confidence. — Maks transfers the money to you, and you make the payment. Very convenient. You get to play accountant!
— Really? — Rita gave a thin smile. — Let’s check. Let’s open the transfers from Maksim to my account.
She typed her husband’s name into the search bar.
The screen refreshed.
Over the past month, there had been three transfers from Maksim.
The amounts were tiny.
The payment notes read:
“for bread,”
“for the internet,”
and
“add some for the cat food.”
Elvira Leonidovna’s mouth fell slightly open.
The amber brooch on her chest was no longer rising and falling with her indignant breathing.
— What is this? — She turned a confused gaze toward her son. — Maks? Where’s the money for the apartment?
Maksim sank lower in his chair, avoiding everyone’s eyes, and began furiously poking at the potatoes on his plate with his fork.
— Mom, well… it’s complicated, — he finally managed. — They cut our bonuses at work. We’re not hitting our targets. There’s a crisis in the department.
— They cut them two years ago? — Rita asked in an icy voice. — Because for exactly two years, you haven’t contributed a single penny toward the apartment.
She returned to the general transaction history on the screen.
— And this, Elvira Leonidovna, is the utility bill. Not exactly a small amount either. Also paid from my account. And this is the supermarket. Every weekend there’s another substantial receipt. The lion’s share of what I earn working remotely as an accountant goes right here. Toward the basic expenses of our family. And I bought my own boots with money I earned doing accounting work late at night.
Aunt Alla exhaled loudly.
— Wait, — her mother-in-law blinked rapidly, trying to process what she had just seen. — Then what does Maks live on? Where does his salary go if he isn’t bringing any of it into the household?
Rita locked her phone.
The television screen went dark, returning the room to semi-darkness.
— That’s something you should ask him, — Rita said, looking around the table. — Ask him how much the original alloy wheels for his car cost. Ask him about that new smartwatch he bought a week ago. Ask him about the fish finder for his fishing trips that’s sitting in the storage room. Ask him about his Friday nights drinking with his friends at the bar.
Uncle Fedya discreetly pushed his plate away. He had apparently lost his appetite for pickled mushrooms.
— Maks, — he asked quietly. — And who paid for this enormous television? You said you bought it yourself. You even bragged that you paid cash.
Maksim shrugged and looked toward the window.
— The installment plan is in my name, — Rita answered for her husband. — The payment is deducted every month. From my account too.
A heavy, sticky silence settled over the kitchen.
The only sound came from the neighboring apartment, where someone was hammering against a wall.
— Alla, I think it’s probably time for us to go, — Uncle Fedya said, slowly rising from his chair.
Aunt Alla nodded quickly and began gathering up her handbag.
The guests started getting to their feet, trying not to look at Maksim.
Elvira Leonidovna remained motionless.
Her usual forcefulness and commanding tone had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a bewildered elderly woman.
— Maks, — she swallowed. — Is it true? Are you living off your wife?
Maksim jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the salad bowl.
— Nobody is living off anyone! We’re a family! We have a shared budget! I contribute too! I buy gas so I can drive us to your dacha, Mom! I pay to have the oil changed in the car!
— A shared budget means both people contribute, — Rita cut him off. — When one person pays for all the housing and food while the other spends his money exclusively on toys and entertainment, that’s called something else.
She looked at Elvira Leonidovna.
— And in this household, Elvira Leonidovna, I’m the one doing the sponsoring.
Her mother-in-law stood up.
She looked neither at her daughter-in-law nor at her son.
— I’m leaving, — she said shortly, picking up her glossy handbag.
Rita didn’t see anyone out.
She simply carried the dirty plates to the sink.
A couple of weeks later, Maksim moved out.
It took him several trips to move all his things to his mother’s place, including his smartwatch and his fish finder.
Rita didn’t make a scene and didn’t demand an apology.
She simply changed the lock.
Living on a separate budget turned out to be an impossible challenge for him.
Rita continued paying for the television herself.
The screen really was excellent—
especially when you could watch movies in peace and quiet.
