“Come in, come in! Mom, we’ll give you that bedroom over there—the sun doesn’t glare so much in the mornings. Svetka, you and Denis can throw your things upstairs for now!” Maksim commanded loudly, flinging open the brand-new front door so hard it almost slammed into the wall.
The smell of freshly planed pine boards was instantly overpowered by the thick trail of his sister-in-law’s cloying perfume and the heavy odor of a long road trip. Katya froze in the middle of the spacious living room. A damp rag was clenched in her hand, and across the perfect, freshly washed parquet floor, a dirty groove was already appearing from the wheels of an enormous suitcase.
Two cars had parked by the gate. Five minutes earlier, her husband Maksim had climbed out of the first one, and from the second one his entire family had unloaded: his mother, Antonina Petrovna; his sister Sveta; his brother Denis with his wife Marina; and their eight-year-old son Vovka, who immediately started knocking flowers down in the front garden with a stick. They marched toward the porch as if storming a fortress.
Katya had denied herself everything. While her colleagues flew to the seaside and updated their wardrobes, she took extra shifts, sewed custom orders at night, and put every kopeck into a separate account. The money from selling her grandmother’s plot of land had become her starting capital, and the strict prenuptial agreement, signed at Katya’s insistence before the wedding, guaranteed that her savings would remain hers alone. Maksim had treated that idea with philosophical detachment. He was perfectly comfortable living in his inherited two-room apartment with his mother, while spending his own salary on expensive fishing gear and evenings out with friends.
And now the house stood there. Huge windows. Bright rooms. Maksim had come with her in the morning, carried in a couple of boxes of dishes, and then left on “business,” only to return with this kind of “surprise.”
Life was already in full swing in the entryway. Marina was loudly scolding her son for his dirty sneakers, Sveta was dragging her luggage farther down the hall, and her mother-in-law was inspecting the bathroom with the air of the lady of the house.
“Katerina!” Maksim shouted. “Why are you standing there frozen? Welcome the guests! We decided to come stay for a week or two, breathe some fresh air. Svetka’s on vacation, Denis took some days off too. Whip us up something to eat quickly—everyone’s hungry from the road.”
Antonina Petrovna walked over to the kitchen island, ran her finger across the flawless countertop, and clicked her tongue in displeasure.
“The windows still need washing properly, Katya. And there aren’t any curtains. We’re sitting here like we’re in a shop window. Never mind, tomorrow the girls and I will make it cozy. I brought my old tulle and drapes from home; we’ll alter them. And where’s your grill? Denis bought meat. Let the boys cook it.”
Katya said nothing. A steady hum filled her ears. None of them had called. None of them had asked whether they could come. They had simply barged into her hard-won dream with their dirty wheels, old drapes, and commands. And Maksim stood in the middle of the room as if he had been the one sitting at the sewing machine at night, working his fingers raw.
The old habit of smoothing things over and silently swallowing Antonina Petrovna’s barbs for the sake of a fragile peace twitched somewhere in her mind. Now she was supposed to start fussing, put on the kettle, go unpack their bags…
But Katya looked at the groove from the suitcase. Then she shifted her gaze to Vovka, who was already reaching his earth-stained hands toward the snow-white wallpaper. The string pulled tight inside her snapped with a quiet ring.
The rag fell to the floor with a soft slap. Katya turned around, walked over to her backpack on the windowsill, and pulled out a blue plastic folder. She straightened her back and stepped into the center of the living room.
“All right, stop right there,” she said. Her voice was not loud, but there was such steel in it that Sveta, who had already lifted one foot onto the staircase, froze where she stood.
“What’s wrong with you, Katya?” Maksim frowned, coming closer. “The family’s here. We’re going to celebrate.”
Katya placed the blue folder on the table. The slap of plastic sounded sharply in the hanging silence.
“This is not a celebration, Maksim. This is an invasion,” Katya said, looking around at the frozen relatives. “There’s no need to unpack your things.”
Antonina Petrovna clutched the strap of her handbag with both hands.
“What is this supposed to mean? We come to her with open hearts, offering help, and she won’t even let us through the door?! Maksim! Look how your wife speaks to your mother!”
Maksim stepped toward Katya, breathing heavily. His Adam’s apple jerked nervously.
“Have you completely lost your mind? You’re humiliating me in front of people! You bought a house and decided we’re not family?! You’re setting your own rules here?!”
Katya looked her husband straight in the eyes and, for the first time in ten years, did not look away.
“Exactly. I bought the house. And the rules here are mine.” She slapped her palm on the blue folder. “Everything is registered solely in my name. It was bought with the money from selling my grandmother’s land and with my personal savings, which are fully protected by our prenuptial agreement. You have absolutely no connection to this property. No one is registered here. I didn’t invite anyone here.”
She turned to the relatives clustered by the door.
“Not a single board in this house belongs to you. And this will not become a holiday resort. I am tired, and I want peace. You have exactly twenty minutes to load your suitcases back into the cars.”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Sveta shouted indignantly. “Max, do you hear this? She’s throwing us out of your house!”
“This is not his house, Svetlana,” Katya said, enunciating every word. “The local police officer lives three plots down from here. He already knows I’m the sole owner here. If you don’t leave within twenty minutes, you’ll meet him personally. I can write a report for unlawful entry very quickly. The clock is ticking.”
The room became unbearably quiet. The relatives looked at Maksim, waiting for him to put his wife in her place. But Maksim, catching Katya’s icy, completely unfamiliar gaze, suddenly lost all his swagger. He shoved his hands into his pockets and began nervously jingling his car keys. The woman who had been a convenient backdrop in his apartment for years had disappeared.
“Mom…” he muttered, backing toward the exit. “Let’s go. Pack the bags. We’ll sort this out later.”
“We won’t sort out anything!” Antonina Petrovna snapped, sharply yanking her grandson by the hand. “I will never set foot in this hovel again! Live here alone. We’ll see who needs you then!”
It took them less than ten minutes to gather their things. They swept out with the same fuss they had entered with, snorting resentfully and slamming car trunks.
Maksim lingered on the porch. He looked at his wife as if he still expected her to rush after him and beg for forgiveness.
“Do you even understand what you’ve just done? You destroyed a family over some pieces of wood. I’m not coming back here until you come apologize yourself.”
Katya looked at the man she had lived with for so many years and felt only an astonishing lightness. As if someone had opened a window in a stuffy, dusty room.
“Leave the keys on the cabinet,” she replied evenly.
The cars roared to life and disappeared around the bend. Katya closed the front door and turned the lock twice. Then she walked over to the puddle of dirty water, picked up the rag, and carefully scrubbed away the mark from Svetlana’s suitcase until the floor shone. She threw the rag into the bucket. Then she went to the bathroom and washed her hands with soap for a long time, with deep satisfaction, rinsing away the remnants of that insane day.
Only after that did she pour herself some hot tea and sit right on the wooden steps of the staircase. Her house once again smelled of pine, cleanliness, and long-awaited freedom.
And it was the most right feeling in the world.
