“My mother and I have already decided everything: you’ll spend your vacation at her country house, and you’ll pay for the veranda out of your savings,” my husband Viktor announced solemnly.
I set my cup down on the table. Whenever my husband said, “My mother and I have decided,” it always meant that they had made the decision, while I was expected to pay for it and do all the work. Viktor stood in the middle of the kitchen with such a grand expression that you would have thought he had just granted me the title of countess along with a hereditary estate.
My name is Olga, and I had planned my vacation long before this family decree was issued. I had paid for a two-week stay at a holiday resort back in the winter, using my savings. I also had money in my personal savings account for a new bedroom set and an autumn trip to the seaside.
“Olga, don’t start,” my husband said with a grimace when he noticed my expression. “We’ve worked everything out. I’ve had a fishing trip with the guys planned for ages, and Mom bought a package to a health spa. She has high blood pressure! She can’t be breathing construction dust at seventy-two. And you’ll already be on vacation, so you can spend two weeks in the fresh air. You’ll meet the construction crew, accept the deliveries, and supervise the work. You can also make them lunch and sweep the property. That won’t be difficult for you, will it?”
As it turned out, to negotiate a discount, Viktor and his mother had personally promised the construction crew a hot lunch every day and a clean worksite. Naturally, they had appointed me to fulfill this agreement without asking me. Generosity is certainly a wonderful quality, especially when you are giving away someone else’s time.
“Show me the contract, the estimate, and the payment schedule,” I said without changing my tone. Arguing merely for the sake of making noise is for weak people. I prefer to use facts.
Viktor proudly pulled several printed pages from a plastic folder. I quickly scanned the text. Just as I had expected, my husband was clearly listed as the customer. He had signed the contract and assumed responsibility for the payments.
The total cost of the veranda was 480,000 rubles. Viktor had already paid 80,000 rubles to reserve the construction crew and have the custom-sized glazing manufactured. If the work was canceled, neither the reservation fee nor the cost of the completed glazing would be refunded. He had to pay the remaining 400,000 rubles before the main shipment of materials was delivered—naturally, expecting to take that money from my account.
“What an excellent document,” I said, carefully sliding the papers back toward him. “The person who signed it is the person who pays. A veranda does not fit into the vacation I’ll be spending at the resort. And my savings will not be going to someone else’s country house.”
“What do you mean?!” My husband’s air of grandeur began disappearing rapidly. “We already decided!”
“You decided, so you can deal with it,” I said with a shrug. “But I’m willing to make a fair exchange. I’ll pay for your mother’s veranda on the exact day you use your personal savings to completely renovate my mother’s kitchen. And you’ll spend your vacation there with a hammer drill and tools, hauling away construction debris.”
My mother’s kitchen genuinely had needed renovation for a long time, but I had never tried to make my husband responsible for it.
“Have you lost your mind?!” Viktor exploded. “Your mother’s apartment is someone else’s property! Why should I spend my hard-earned money and my lawful vacation on it?”
“Now we finally agree,” I said, looking him directly in the eyes. “My mother’s kitchen is someone else’s property to you. Your mother’s country house is someone else’s property to me. Have a nice fishing trip.”
To say that Viktor’s system malfunctioned would be an understatement. Once he realized that he would not be getting any money from me and that the deadlines were approaching, his fishing trip went down the drain. They could not cancel the construction: the glazing had already been custom-made, the materials had been ordered, and they genuinely needed the veranda.
To pay the remaining balance on the contract, Viktor had to empty his own savings fund—270,000 rubles that he had been carefully preserving for the purchase of a motorboat.
Galina Pavlovna was even less fortunate. She had to cancel her 160,000-ruble health-spa package. She lost 30,000 rubles in cancellation fees and invested the remaining 130,000 rubles in the construction of the veranda. Together, they had exactly 400,000 rubles.
My mother-in-law canceled her trip not only because she was afraid of leaving everything to her incompetent son. She understood that she herself had promised to feed the workers, receive the materials, and make sure the order was correct. Viktor, eager to finish as quickly as possible, would have signed any acceptance certificate without even reading it.
While I enjoyed massages, peace and quiet, and long walks through the pine forest at the holiday resort, a real comedy was unfolding at the country house.
My mother-in-law’s neighbor, Tamara Semyonovna, and I had exchanged seedlings and recipes for many years, so she had my phone number. I had not asked her for updates, but on the very first evening she sent me a photograph of Viktor with his leg bandaged and a brief voice message:
“Olga, you missed a lot today. The show was free.”
Apparently, Viktor had decided to demonstrate his skills. On the very first day, he volunteered to help unload the wood paneling and dropped one of the packages on his foot. Then he tried unsuccessfully to hold a stepladder steady. The foreman took one look at the situation and strictly forbade the customer from touching any tools.
From that moment on, Viktor was assigned only safe duties: driving to buy missing screws, receiving deliveries, carrying water, cooking lunches for the construction crew, washing their dishes, and sweeping up sawdust.
The neighbors, Nikolai Petrovich and Tamara Semyonovna, happily observed the process through the chain-link fence. One day, Nikolai Petrovich approached the fence holding a mug of kvass.
“Galina,” the neighbor began pleasantly, “your Viktor supervises the construction so well that the crew works more slowly while the first-aid kit empties more quickly. It’s a rare talent—to turn one task into three and still have to run out for more screws.”
“You should keep him here for the bathhouse project too,” Tamara Semyonovna added. “By autumn, he might finally learn how to hold a stepladder.”
At first, Galina Pavlovna pretended not to understand that they were mocking her, but she quickly lost her temper, threw her hoe into the garden bed, and started a scandal, accusing the neighbors of jealousy. After that public humiliation, she permanently reassigned her son to the roles of supplier, cook, and cleaner.
I returned from my vacation tanned, well-rested, without having received a single construction-related phone call, and with a new haircut.
I visited the country house only after the main work had been completed. It was quite a sight: the brand-new veranda, smelling of fresh pine, gleamed with its new windows. A thinner, exhausted-looking Viktor sat on the porch holding a cleaning rag. Galina Pavlovna was weeding the garden beds, and whenever she saw the neighbors, she greeted them only through tightly clenched lips.
That evening, after we returned to our apartment in the city, Viktor approached me in the kitchen. Not a trace of his former self-importance remained.
“Olga… forgive me,” he said quietly, staring at the table. “I assumed you would agree anyway. That you’d give us the money, stay with the workers, and feed them. It seemed like such a small thing until I had to spend a week cleaning up after the crew and driving around markets myself. I was wrong.”
I poured myself a glass of water and looked at my husband.
“This isn’t about the veranda. You and your mother divided up my vacation, my money, and my labor without even asking me. There will not be a second conversation like this.”
Viktor nodded, accepting the condition without making excuses. From that day forward, any expenses involving help for relatives, work at the country house, or vacation plans were discussed in advance in our family.
Galina Pavlovna got her veranda. And Viktor personally carried the family tradition of controlling my vacation and my wallet out through the gate along with the final bucket of sawdust.
