“In a week, my sister will arrive with her husband, and my nephews will come with their families. I’ve already told everyone that the house by the sea is now our family house,” her mother-in-law announced as she unpacked her things in the master bedroom.
Vera froze with a cup in her hands. Her morning coffee suddenly tasted bitter.
“Excuse me… what do you mean, ‘they’re coming’?”
“Eight people. Don’t worry, we’ll squeeze in somehow. Children need sea air.”
Vera stared at the woman who, just a year earlier, had called this house a ruin and laughed at her attempts to save it. Her mother-in-law was businesslike as she rearranged dresses in the wardrobe, as if settling into her own apartment. Her cosmetic bags lay on the bed, and a framed photo of her grandchildren was already standing on the nightstand.
Sunlight poured through the new windows, the ones Vera had spent her last savings on. The air smelled of the sea and of the roses she had planted herself in the spring.
The old little house by the sea had belonged to Vera’s grandmother. After her death, distant relatives whom the family had not seen for years suddenly began claiming the inheritance.
“They didn’t even come to the funeral,” Vera had complained to her husband at the time. “And now they’ve suddenly remembered family feelings!”
“Maybe we should just give in?” Andrei suggested cautiously. “You’ll waste so many nerves…”
The court proceedings dragged on for almost two years. Vera collected documents, attended hearings, spent money on lawyers, and constantly listened to mockery.
Her mother-in-law was especially persistent.
“Oh, just give up that shed. It’ll fall apart on its own soon,” she said one Sunday over lunch.
“It’s a memory of my grandmother,” Vera tried to explain.
“Memories can be kept in an album. It would have been better if you’d bought a bigger apartment.”
“Mom, this is our decision,” Andrei defended her, though not very convincingly.
“You’re only throwing money away on lawyers. How much have you spent already? Fifty thousand? A hundred?”
Even some of her husband’s relatives considered Vera stubborn and greedy. At family celebrations, she constantly heard barbed remarks about the “ghost house” and “castles in the air.”
But she won the case anyway.
When the documents were finalized, Vera and her husband went to see the inheritance. The house turned out to be neglected, but solid. From the windows, they could see the sea, and old pine trees grew in the yard.
“You know, it’s beautiful here,” Andrei admitted as he walked around the property.
They decided to keep the house.
The next year, the family spent renovating it. Her husband replaced the roof and windows, while Vera worked on the garden and the interior. Gradually, the old house turned into a cozy place to relax.
For the first time in a long while, Vera felt happy.
That summer, Vera posted several photos on social media.
A white veranda with wicker chairs.
A hammock between the pines, where it was so pleasant to read in the evenings.
Blooming roses by the gate — an entire alley of different varieties.
A sunset over the sea, photographed from her own terrace.
Dozens of admiring comments appeared under the photos. Her friends asked for the hotel address, and her colleagues could not believe it was her house.
A few days later, her mother-in-law unexpectedly called.
Her voice was unusually affectionate, almost honeyed.
“Verochka, I saw your photos. What a wonderful little house it has become!”
“Thank you,” Vera replied warily.
“It’s unrecognizable! Just like something from an interior design magazine. We’ll have to come sometime and see your miracle.”
“Of course, sometime…”
“Is the sea nearby?”
“Five minutes on foot.”
“Wonderful! All right, kisses. Say hello to Andryusha!”
Vera immediately felt uneasy. In three years of marriage, she had learned to recognize her mother-in-law’s intonations. The tone had changed too abruptly — from contempt to admiration.
A week later, her unease proved justified.
Her mother-in-law appeared on the doorstep with two enormous suitcases. The taxi drove away without even waiting for the hostess to open the door. Vera stood there in an apron, whisk in hand — she had been making meringue.
“Mom? You didn’t warn us…”
“I wanted to surprise you!” her mother-in-law said, smacking her on the cheek and walking into the house.
Her mother-in-law entered the house as if she had lived there for a long time. She slowly took off her shoes and left her handbag on the console table in the hallway.
She inspected the rooms, touching the curtains and checking how soft the sofas were.
She praised the renovation with the air of an expert.
“You chose good wallpaper. And the bathroom tiles are successful too.”
And then she calmly announced:
“I’ve decided to spend the whole summer here. Sea air is good for someone my age.”
Vera tried to object.
“But we didn’t discuss this… We have plans…”
Her mother-in-law merely waved her hand.
“Don’t be greedy. The house is big. There’s enough room for everyone.”
She was already rolling her suitcase toward the master bedroom. Vera hurried after her.
Then came another announcement.
“By the way, I’ve already told the relatives about your house. Everyone is thrilled!”
“What relatives?” Vera felt the ground slipping from under her feet.
“All of ours. My sister, my nephews. They haven’t seen the sea in so long.”
It turned out that her mother-in-law had managed to promise several families a free vacation. In a week, her sister and husband were supposed to arrive, along with two grown children and their spouses, plus two grandchildren.
Eight people in total.
And not a single person had thought to ask the owner’s permission.
Moreover, her mother-in-law had already assigned the rooms to the guests. She had reserved the master bedroom for herself. The children’s room was for the relatives with children. The guest room was for the second couple.
“And where will Andrei and I stay?” Vera asked weakly.
“You can put a folding bed on the veranda. Or sleep on the sofa in the living room. Don’t be fussy, it won’t be for long.”
That evening, her husband arrived. Vera heard the familiar sound of the engine and looked out the window. Andrei was parking the car beneath the pine trees, tired after a long day at work.
Her mother-in-law rushed to the door first, smoothing the folds of her dress.
“Andryushenka!” she exclaimed, hugging her son. “Can you imagine, I only wanted to bring the family together, and your wife caused a scandal. She won’t let the relatives come!”
Vera silently took out her phone and handed it to her husband. On the screen was a message in the family chat, sent that morning:
“Everyone come. The house is huge. There’s room for everyone. Vera will only be glad to have guests.”
Andrei read the conversation. His face gradually darkened. Then he looked up at his mother.
“You invited people without permission?”
“So what?” his mother shrugged.
“You assigned the rooms?”
“Of course. Someone had to organize everything.”
“Even our bedroom?”
“What’s wrong with that? I need a comfortable place. My back hurts.”
His mother clearly had not expected her son to start asking such questions. She was used to Andrei always agreeing.
“Mom, this is not your house.”
“But we’re family!”
“That is exactly why you should have asked first.”
The next day, Andrei personally called all the relatives. Vera heard his calm but firm voice from the kitchen.
He explained to each of them that there had been a misunderstanding. That the invitation had been made without the homeowners’ consent. That the house was not a free boarding house, and that he and Vera planned their own vacation themselves.
Some relatives were embarrassed and apologized. Aunt Lyuda even said:
“We didn’t know Galya had decided everything on her own.”
Some were offended, especially the niece who had already bought tickets.
And her mother-in-law threw a grand scandal. She paced around the living room, waving her arms.
“This is all because of you!” she shouted, pointing a finger at Vera. “Greedy! Ungrateful! I accepted you into the family, and you’re driving the relatives away!”
But this time, no one supported her. Even Andrei remained firm.
In the morning, her husband drove his mother to the train station. Vera came out to say goodbye, holding a thermos of coffee for the road.
Before leaving, her mother-in-law tried once more to shame her daughter-in-law.
“You’ll regret this someday. You’ll end up alone, and no one will help you.”
“No,” Vera replied calmly, looking her straight in the eyes. “I fought too long for this house, and now I want peace and quiet.”
A few weeks later, life returned to its usual rhythm. The morning silence was no longer broken by loud conversations and demands.
In the mornings, Vera drank coffee on the veranda and looked out at the sea. Seagulls circled above the water, and the wind rustled in the pines.
Andrei worked in the garden, planting the new roses Vera had ordered from a nursery.
“They’ll be beautiful,” he said, showing her photos of the varieties.
In the evenings, they grilled fish in the yard and watched the sunsets. Sometimes they invited friends over for the weekend.
Relatives did come to visit after all. But now only by invitation, and only for a few days. Even her mother-in-law came in the autumn — for three days, after giving a month’s notice.
She no longer called the house a ruin. But she no longer considered herself its owner either.
“May I come for the May holidays?” she asked before leaving.
“Of course, Mom. Just let us know in advance, at least three days beforehand,” Andrei replied.
And Vera smiled as she looked at her sea.
