In life, I learned one bitter truth: when an enemy suddenly starts showering you with roses, look for a snake among the petals. The smile that wasn’t on that face just yesterday shines today brighter than the sun — and that is exactly what should make you wary. My mother-in-law taught me this lesson with such cruelty that even now, years later, a chill runs down my spine when I remember how cunningly her eyes gleamed when she spoke those words… But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you how I almost lost the only inheritance I received from the person who truly loved me.
“Irisha, dear, sit down for a minute,” my grandmother called me while I was weeding the carrot beds.
I straightened up, brushed the dirt off my hands, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and went to her.
“I’m coming, Granny, what’s the matter?” I sat down beside her, not hiding the anxiety in my voice.
“Don’t be so scared, child. Sit with me,” Granny patted the wooden bench.
“You’re scaring me. Is everything alright?” My heart started beating faster.
“I want you to know how much I love you. You’re not just my granddaughter, you’re my dearest person, my pride, my little ray of light.”
“Granny, I love you very much too,” I squeezed her wrinkled hand.
“I know, Irishka. You’re so young, full of energy and plans. I want so much for everything to work out for you.”
“It will definitely work out, don’t worry.”
“Listen to me carefully. I’ve lived a long life, and my health isn’t what it used to be. I’ve made a decision — this summer house is yours now.”
“What? Why are you saying that?” I was confused by the sudden news.
“It’s getting harder for me to take care of the garden and the house. I want this piece of land to belong to you while I can still see how you take care of it. Soon I’ll have to spend more time in the city apartment, and the garden needs attention.”
“Granny, but I…”
“Don’t argue with an old woman! You didn’t inherit anything from your parents, so at least let me be calm knowing I left you a roof over your head. Promise me you’ll take care of the plot?”
“Of course, I promise! Thank you, dear,” I hugged Granny, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender from her sweater. “But you’ll still be here for a long, long time, right? We’ll sit here like before, eat homemade jam, and listen to the birds singing.”
“Of course, my dear.”
This turn of events caught me off guard. I had never even thought that Granny might pass the summer house to me. On the other hand, I understood her motives — she worried about my future and wanted to make sure I’d at least have a roof over my head when she was gone.
All my life, Granny had been my real family. When I was barely a year old, my parents left me “for a while” with her, supposedly going away to earn money. Weeks passed, then months. At some point, Granny realized the bitter truth — they wouldn’t be coming back. Her son, my father, stopped answering calls and then changed his number altogether. My parents disappeared as if they never existed.
Granny had no choice but to raise me alone. She worked one and a half jobs, and neighbors took turns watching me until I started kindergarten. Despite all the hardships, my childhood was filled with warmth and care — Granny did everything so I could grow up happy.
Naturally, as I grew older, I started asking about my parents. At first, Granny evaded the answers, but when I turned twelve, she brought out old photo albums. For some time after that, I was gloomy, overwhelmed with resentment and anger. I even tried to find them on the internet, but all attempts were in vain.
Eventually, I came to terms with the fact that I only had Granny — a person who never abandoned me under any circumstances. She took on an incredible responsibility and surrounded me with so much love that I never felt deprived. For that, I will be grateful to her till the end of my days.
“Granny, I’m getting married!” I announced one day, bursting into the house like a whirlwind.
“My dear! Has Maxim proposed?” Granny beamed.
“Yes! Look at the ring he gave me!”
“How beautiful! When’s the wedding?”
“We’re planning for the end of August, we’re saving money now.”
“Well done, responsible ones! And will the old granny be invited to the wedding?”
“Granny, what are you saying! You’ll be the honored guest! I want you to be the one to lead me to the altar.”
“Oh God, what an honor! I can’t wait!”
Maxim and I got married at twenty-three. We had been dating for two years, and when we graduated, he proposed. There was almost a year until the wedding — we wanted to save enough for the celebration I had dreamed of for so long.
Maxim was a handsome, responsible, and ambitious young man. Having experienced the childhood trauma of being abandoned, I found it hard to trust men, but Maxim’s attitude and actions managed to melt the ice around my heart. He surrounded me with care, respected my Granny, was gentle with children and animals, and even treated the homeless with respect and compassion. How could I not fall in love?
However, there was one bitter pill in our idyll — his mother, Natalia Petrovna, treated me with barely concealed dislike.
“She dresses like she shops at a thrift store, looks like a country bumpkin. And that makeup — black winged eyeliner to the temples, eyelashes like fans, nails like claws. I don’t like her, Maxim. She’ll suck the life out of you, mark my words,” said my mother-in-law, unaware I heard every word.
“Mom, I love Irina. She’s nothing like how you imagine her. She has a sensitive heart and a golden character,” Maxim defended me.
“Sure, sure. She’s always petting those flea-ridden street cats, comes to us empty-handed and all dirty. Who knows who she got that from.”
“She spends summers with her Granny at the dacha, helps in the garden. So sometimes she doesn’t look perfect. I like that — she’s hardworking and tidy.”
I accidentally overheard this conversation when visiting Natalia Petrovna’s house. We met her only a few months before Maxim proposed. Naturally, the news of our engagement was met with clear displeasure from the future mother-in-law. She didn’t like me at all and didn’t bother hiding it.
“I hope you’ll be a worthy wife for Maxim. You must take care of him, keep the house in order, cook deliciously, and respect his decisions. He’s the head of the family, don’t forget that,” Natalia Petrovna lectured me.
“Of course, Maxim will live like a king, and I’ll be his obedient servant,” I couldn’t resist sarcasm.
“Are you mocking me?”
“No, of course not. Just a joke. I promise I’ll be a good wife to your son.”
I tried not to react to my mother-in-law’s barbs and harshness. No matter what I did, I would never please her. Granny always taught me to be tolerant of people, so I simply agreed with her words but acted as I saw fit.
After Granny announced the transfer of the dacha to my ownership, I shared the news with my husband.
“Wow! So now we have our own dacha?” Maxim was delighted.
“Technically mine,” I joked slyly. “But of course, it’s ours. Hey, maybe we could spend weekends there with friends? Barbecue, board games, fresh air…”
“Great idea, honey, I’m all for it.”
Our friends enthusiastically accepted the invitation. I also invited Granny, but she declined due to poor health, though she strongly recommended we rest well. To my surprise, Natalia Petrovna also agreed to join our company.
“Welcome, make yourselves comfortable!” I warmly greeted the guests at the gate.
While Maxim and friends unloaded food and drinks, I gave a small tour of the plot to girlfriends and my mother-in-law.
“What a wonderful garden, I wish I had such a dacha,” Natalia Petrovna said with undisguised envy.
“Irisha, it’s so cozy here!” the friends admired sincerely.
“Come more often, we’re always glad to have guests. Especially if you don’t mind helping in the garden a bit,” I winked at them.
To my amazement, during our picnic, my mother-in-law showed unprecedented activity. She constantly asked how she could help, fussed around the table, did everything possible to create a perfect atmosphere for relaxation.
“Irochka, have some more meat, it’s very tender. And try the salad, I specially made the dressing for you,” she offered caring.
All day Natalia Petrovna was unnaturally kind to me. She praised the plot, constantly showed signs of attention, even complimented my appearance. I was certainly pleased by this attitude but at the same time, it caused me anxiety. The woman who barely hid her contempt for me yesterday behaved as if I were her beloved daughter. My intuition told me there was some calculation behind this sudden change.
In the following weeks, my confusion only grew.
“Hello, son, where’s Irina?” asked my mother-in-law, dropping by the dacha unannounced again.
“She’s tying up tomatoes in the greenhouse,” Maxim answered.
“Irinochka, sunshine, hello!” Mother-in-law burst into the greenhouse with a joyful smile.
“Hello. You decided to visit us?”
“Yes, and not empty-handed!”
Natalia Petrovna pulled a velvet box out of her bag and handed it to me.
“This is for you, dear.”
“What is this? Why did you…”
“It’s a silver bracelet, I saw it at the jewelry store and immediately thought of you! It’s not very expensive, don’t worry. I just wanted to please you.”
“Thank you very much, Natalia Petrovna, but you didn’t have to…”
“Take it, take it! Let me help you put it on!”
Mother-in-law took the box and deftly fastened the bracelet on my wrist.
“How beautiful! How elegant! Look, Maxim, what a graceful wife you have!” she exclaimed enthusiastically.
“The most beautiful,” smiled my husband.
I forced a smile and thanked her again, but the anxiety inside me grew. Why was Natalia Petrovna suddenly showering me with compliments and gifts? Something about this situation seemed deeply unnatural.
Natalia Petrovna began appearing at the dacha with enviable regularity. She pretended to help in the garden but quickly gave up, citing age and poor health. However, her desire to have heartfelt conversations with me did not wane — she persistently asked about my personal affairs, plans, and dreams. Her excessive attention to me became more and more inappropriate and intrusive.
Each visit was accompanied by new gifts, passionate displays of care, concerns about my health in the heat. In short, she showed such exaggerated kindness that it crossed all limits of decency. But soon the mask fell, and I learned the real reason for this change.
“Irina, come here,” my mother-in-law called me during another visit.
Now she no longer looked cloyingly kind. Her face had the usual stern, almost severe expression.
“I’m here. Do you need help?” I approached her, wiping my hands on my apron.
“Gather the documents for your dacha, I decided to sell it,” my mother-in-law declared.
“Excuse me… what?”
“I said, I’m selling your dacha! Are you deaf?”
“What are you even talking about? I don’t understand,” I looked at her bewildered.
“Are you overheated in the sun?”
“No. I’m just trying to understand why you decided to dispose of my property.”
“What’s unclear here? You should somehow repay me for my generosity. After all, I’m your mother-in-law.”
“And… how does this relate to my dacha?”
“I gave you jewelry? I did. Helped in the garden? I did. Was kind to you? Absolutely. Be so kind as to pay me back in kind.”
“I’m not going to pay you anything. This dacha belongs to me, and I don’t plan to sell it.”
“Irina, I’m not asking your permission! I’ve already arranged with the buyer; he’ll be here in an hour. You only need to go home and bring the documents.”
“You’re putting me before a fact? I clearly said — the dacha is not for sale!”
“Ah, you insolent girl! Weren’t you taught to respect your elders? I told you what to do. Do it, and don’t argue with me!”
“What is going on here?” Maxim appeared, hearing our raised voices.
“Your mother is trying to sell my dacha,” I answered, barely restraining my anger.
“What? Mom, maybe you can explain?” My husband’s voice was genuinely surprised.
“What is there to explain? Was it for nothing that I courted your precious wife all this time? Gave her trinkets, lavished compliments, showed care. And all this so that you would refuse me such a small thing as selling the dacha? I helped you all this time, now it’s your turn to help me!”
“Mom, you’re crossing all boundaries,” Maxim stood between us. “This is Irina’s property, and only she has the right to decide its fate.”
“So you prefer the side of your wife, not your own mother? I never thought you’d be such a traitor!”
“You’re trying to dispose of my wife’s property behind our backs. How can I support you in this?”
“Enough! I don’t want to hear anything more! From now on, son, don’t cross the threshold of my house! And you, country bumpkin, have no business there anyway!”
I sharply took off the gifted bracelet and put it into my mother-in-law’s hand.
“I don’t need your gifts. Take them back.”
Natalia Petrovna burst into a stream of outrage and left our plot. I was stunned by this turn of events. Finally, everything fell into place — my mother-in-law had been pretending kindness and attention only to benefit from selling my dacha. How could anyone come up with such a cunning plan?
Natalia Petrovna did not communicate with us for about two months. Maxim began to worry; after all, she was his mother. I tried to support my husband, putting aside personal offense and dislike for my mother-in-law. First and foremost, she remained the mother of the person I loved.
Soon she contacted Maxim herself, but only to ask for financial help. After that, their relationship seemed to improve. But as for me — my trust was irretrievably lost. I didn’t want to have anything to do with a woman who tried to deceitfully take possession of my only inheritance and then sent me a bill for her fake “kindness.”
