On a lazy Saturday morning, Roman and Elena were sitting at the table enjoying breakfast. Roman poured Elena some strong coffee into her favorite white ceramic mug, then carefully spread creamy butter over warm, freshly toasted bread. Through the open window, the gentle sound of birds and the distant hum of a municipal tractor cleaning the neighboring yard floated in. The atmosphere was peaceful, cozy, and slow-paced.
«How about we go to Tsaritsyno for a walk today?» Elena suggested, taking a sip and pulling a croissant closer. «It’s sunny and warm outside.»
«Or maybe we should stop by the hardware market on the MKAD?» Roman reached for the jar of apricot jam. «You said you wanted to buy some boxes and soil for the balcony flowers.»
At that moment, the tablet on their kitchen table began to vibrate. The familiar ringtone of a video call rang out, and a photo of Inna—Roman’s sister—appeared on the screen.
«My sister is calling,» Roman chuckled and hit the answer button.
Inna was beaming so widely that every smile line showed on her face. She was clearly outside, with a fence visible behind her.
«Roma, Lena, hi! You have no idea how amazing the air is here! It’s a real village—so quiet, the neighbor’s lilacs are blooming, and it’s just beyond beautiful!»
For about five minutes, she talked non-stop, excitedly describing all the wonderful things about their recent purchase, turning the tablet’s camera first to the apple trees, then to a brick wall. Finally, catching her breath, she casually added in a completely calm, everyday voice:
«So, tomorrow around noon, we’re expecting you for the housewarming. Just make sure to buy everything on the grocery list—I’ll send it to you on messenger now.»
Elena was so surprised she started coughing, nearly choking on her coffee. Roman slowly took off his reading glasses, set them down on a napkin, and frowned at the now dark screen.
***
Elena reached for a paper towel to wipe the splashes from the polished table. Roman sat completely still, staring ahead as if he was mentally digesting his sister’s last words.
«The grocery list,» he said quietly. «For a party they’re throwing.»
Just this past spring, Inna had been calling them non-stop, practically hysterical. In the rental Khrushchyovka where she and her husband Oleg lived, a flexible water pipe burst in the kitchen. The apartment owners flatly refused to pay for the damage to the neighbors downstairs, leaving it all to the tenants. To top it off, Oleg had just been switched to part-time that very week because of company downsizing. And then, at the end of that tough call, Inna, through tears, stunned them with unexpected news:
«We bought a house! In a garden community near Chekhov. Yes, it’s old—but it’s ours!»
Elena had been genuinely happy for her relatives then. She knew exactly how tough it was to live out of suitcases in someone else’s place. Oleg kept switching jobs—sometimes working as a security guard, sometimes as a warehouse picker—while Inna worked as a cashier in a cosmetic chain store. They had saved every little bit they could, denying themselves everything, scraping together for four years just to manage the bare minimum down payment for the rural mortgage.
“Do you remember the photos she sent right after the deal?” Elena unlocked her smartphone and opened the chat. “Here, take a look.”
The house in those photos looked, to put it mildly, exhausted: the porch steps were crooked, the siding was peeling, and a slanted shed stood in the corner of the yard. But Inna snapped her pictures with such excitement and from such angles, you’d think it was a country villa. “Our future garden!” read the caption beneath a shot of lopsided, overgrown sea buckthorn bushes. “We’ll make a relaxation area here!” she wrote under a pile of old planks.
“By the way, she also attached a message to those photos, saying they urgently needed fifty thousand for the paperwork and mortgage insurance,” Elena added. “And of course, we helped them.”
Roman gave a crooked smile:
“And remember last month? When she tearfully told us their washing machine broke down at the same time as the radiator started leaking?”
“She asked for thirty-five thousand then for repairs and for buying used appliances,” Elena reminded him. “As a loan, of course. Just like the forty thousand for rewiring last year, which just disappeared.”
Roman and Elena lived a very different life. No excess, but fully comfortable. Roman had secured a corporate client manager position at a large car dealership a few years back—constant negotiations, strict dress code, client entertainment expenses. Elena managed accounts for a private dental clinic network—a stable schedule, reliable (fully taxed) salary. Their own two-bedroom apartment almost paid off, just six months left. A new crossover in the underground garage. Reliable vacations twice a year: winter trips to the coast, summer sightseeing getaways.
At rare family dinners, that difference was always almost tangible. Her mother-in-law, Tamara Petrovna, would inevitably give Elena a scrutinizing look: “Lenochka, is that a new coat? Must have spent half your salary!” Inna might casually remark, “Well, of course, your incomes are different—it’s easier for you.” Oleg usually just eyed Roman’s car key fob.
“We were planning to order them a nice pressure washer as a gift,” Elena said, opening the shopping app where the picked item was still in her basket. “Found a promo, just eleven thousand. It’d be perfect for their property.”
“It’s definitely a useful present,” Roman agreed. “But now it seems we’re also expected to pay for the whole banquet?”
Roman’s phone let out a short beep on the table. A message with a list had arrived. He silently turned the screen toward his wife.
***
Roman was still holding his phone when Elena suddenly stood up. Her spoon bumped the cup, splashing the last of the coffee onto the light tablecloth. She grabbed a damp napkin and vigorously scrubbed at the fabric.
“Three kilos of pork neck,” she muttered, scrubbing harder. “A cheese platter with fancy mold. Five bottles of a specific kind of dry wine, each costing about fifteen hundred. Are they planning to feed the whole family at our expense?”
“Len, drop the napkin, we’ll just throw it in the washing machine later…”
“We’re not just going as guests, Roma, we’re basically the sponsors!” Elena tossed a napkin into the sink. “Have you even seen this list? At the very least, we’re going to drop fifteen to twenty thousand at the supermarket!”
Roman set his glasses down on the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhausted. He was already running through the usual excuses in his mind: after all, they’re family, close people, they just made a big purchase and are strapped for cash. But cold logic was kicking in too—he remembered all those past loans they’d never get back and the subtle jabs about their own financial situation.
“Maybe every penny really does count for them right now, because of all the paperwork…” he said, but not sounding convinced.
“If they don’t have the money, why throw a big housewarming?” Elena sat back down and crossed her arms. “They could’ve just invited Oleg’s parents and us. We would’ve had a modest, cozy get-together, grilled some regular sausages. We’d have brought something anyway, without any ultimatums.”
“Come on, Inka didn’t demand anything, she just sent the list…”
“Didn’t demand?” Elena opened the messenger on her phone where Roman had forwarded the message. “‘Buy everything exactly as listed, I wrote it all out.’ That’s not asking for help, Roma. That’s an order.”
Roman leaned back in his chair. From the hallway came the familiar soft creak of the old wardrobe door—they’d lived in this apartment long enough to know every sound. Outside, someone started up a motorcycle, breaking the peaceful Saturday silence.
“You know what bothers me the most?” Elena absentmindedly twirled a teaspoon between her fingers. “If Inna had just called me and honestly said:
‘Len, we’re broke right now, we really want to celebrate but can’t afford it—could you help with the groceries?’
— I would’ve gone to the hypermarket myself and bought everything. But they don’t even see the need to talk to us like human beings. To them, we’re just a convenient wallet, expected to bankroll their parties at a moment’s notice.
***
They spent the rest of Saturday in an awkward silence, each trying to avoid bringing up the trip. Elena threw herself into a thorough cleaning and started ironing the already perfectly folded bedsheets in the wardrobe. Roman checked his work email twice, going over reports—something he never did on weekends. The shopping list stayed open in their family chat the whole time.
After dinner—just some plain pasta and cutlets that neither of them really touched—Roman decisively picked up his phone.
“We’re not going. I’ve had enough of these manipulations.”
“But what are you going to tell her?” Elena felt a sense of relief, but tensed up right away. “Inna’s going to hold a grudge for half a year.”
“I’ll say you suddenly got a high fever and we’re staying home.”
***
Roman pressed his finger on the call button. Inna answered in just a couple of seconds, and in the background he could clearly hear the sharp sound of a hammer—Oleg was obviously in the middle of a little repair project outside.
“Hey Inka. Listen, we can’t make it tomorrow,” Roman said as evenly as possible. “Lena’s not feeling well—she’s got a high fever and a splitting headache.”
«What do you mean you can’t make it?» My sister’s tone shifted instantly, sounding sharp and annoyed. «We were counting on you, invited guests, planning the whole dinner!»
«That’s just how it is. Sorry, but I won’t risk her health.»
«But what about the food? The list I sent you?»
«Inna, what food are you talking about when someone’s feeling sick? I’m heading to the pharmacy now to get some medicine.»
There was a heavy silence on the line, then my sister replied curtly with obvious reproach:
«I see. Thanks a lot, really helpful.»
The call ended with a few short beeps. Roman slowly set his smartphone down on the table and took a deep breath.
The next day, instead of a long and exhausting trip to Chekhov, they decided to just visit a big shopping center on the south side of the city. The garden equipment department manager processed their return quickly, no questions asked—the box with the pressure washer was completely intact and sealed. The money was instantly refunded to Roman’s bank card.
«Look, that’s just enough for a fantastic lunch,» Elena said with a smile, glancing at the notification from the banking app.
At a cozy Italian restaurant on the third floor, they were warmly welcomed. The hostess showed them to a snug table by the window, and the waiter came over right away, offering menus and, as a compliment from the house, poured them two glasses of sparkling wine. They took their time choosing seafood spaghetti, a light spinach salad, and ordered one tiramisu to share.
***
When the steaming pasta was brought to the table, the delicious aroma of basil and garlic filled the air. Elena carefully twisted the spaghetti onto her fork but didn’t eat right away. Instead, she gazed thoughtfully out the window, watching people lazily amble through the shopping mall with their purchases. It was just an ordinary Sunday, but for their family, it felt different.
«You know, it just feels so unusually calm,» Elena said quietly. «It’s like a huge weight has been lifted. For the first time, I don’t feel that stupid guilt about the fact that we earn more than they do.»
«Because for once we finally set some boundaries,» Roman replied, taking a sip. «I’m tired of sacrificing ourselves just to meet someone else’s demands.»
They gently raised their glasses for a toast. Roman thoughtfully twirled his glass, watching the way the light danced through the drink.
«I was always trying to find excuses for them. I thought maybe they just felt awkward asking us for help directly, so they came up with all these strange ways instead.»
«Or maybe it’s just really convenient for them to keep us feeling indebted,» Elena leaned in slightly. «The logic’s simple: ‘You’ve got money, so what’s the big deal?’»
«We put up with this for way too long,» Roman agreed, setting down his utensils. «We’d constantly lend them money no one intended to give back, ignored their endless jokes about our ‘easy life.’ And what did we get in return? Not even a basic thank you. Enough is enough—those days are over.»
Elena looked at her husband in surprise—when it came to family, Roman usually tried to smooth things over and avoid making any tough decisions.
Not far from them, a young couple was quietly celebrating their own little anniversary—they were all smiles, chatting and looking completely happy. It was pure, simple joy with no hidden agendas or mutual complaints.
***
Half a month flew by after that Saturday. One Sunday, as Elena was watching the pot for her coffee on the stove, she noticed Roman’s phone light up beside her. It was a call from Inna.
«Hi,» Roman said, pressing the speaker button. «Is everything okay?»
«Oh, Rom, don’t even ask!» his sister’s voice was trembling with stress. «After all that endless rain, the ceiling on our porch started leaking. Oleg checked the roof—turns out the old slate broke, and there’s a huge hole. We urgently need to buy some sheets, beams, sealant. Help me out, send around twelve thousand, otherwise we’ll get completely flooded!»
Elena froze, forgetting to take the coffee pot off the stove. Roman calmly flipped a page in the magazine in front of him and replied in an even tone:
«Inna, sorry, but we can’t help. All our extra money is already budgeted for other things.»
«What other things?» his sister’s voice immediately grew sharp. «You both make good money—how can you not find that much for your own sister?»
«It’s our income, and we spend it according to our own plans. If the repair is urgent, take a quick loan in your app or borrow from Oleg’s parents.»
There was dead silence on the other end, then the call dropped.
Elena turned off the burner, walked up behind her husband, and gently placed her hands on his shoulders.
«You did the right thing. That was the only way to handle it.»
«You know, I was just thinking…» Roman opened his laptop to a tab already loaded with a rural real estate search. «Maybe we should look for a small plot with a ready summer house? Just for us, somewhere to escape for the weekends. No one else’s lists to worry about.»
Elena smiled and hugged him tighter. On the monitor, pictures of neat summer houses with manicured lawns flickered by. This was their personal space, free from other people’s resentments and endless financial demands.
***
Four months later, at the end of September, Roman was carefully screwing mounting bolts into a small wooden sign by the gate: ‘Kravec’s Dacha.’ At the same time, Elena was setting the wooden table on the open terrace, spreading out thick linen napkins. Tomorrow, they were expecting guests.
«The marinade for the kebab is ready, I’ve washed the veggies,» she counted on her fingers, double-checking her plan in her head. «I’ll prep the appetizers in the morning. We’ll pick up the cake from the bakery on the way. Looks like I didn’t forget anything.»
«And most importantly—we didn’t send anyone lists of what to bring,» Roman reminded her with a smile, packing away his tools.
Their country house was neat and cozy: two small bedrooms, an open-plan kitchen and living room, and a well-kept path leading to a quaint local pond. They found a fantastic deal, buying the place from an elderly couple who wanted to move closer to their children.
By midday Saturday, guests started arriving at their place. Close friends gifted them a beautiful bamboo bread box, while work colleagues brought a high-quality set of skewers in a leather case. Inna and Oleg came last, handing Lena a box of basic IKEA glasses.
“Well, it’s really nice here,” Inna said, eyeing the tidy facade. “Did you pay a fortune per square meter? By the way, things have been rough for us again—Oleg just got laid off, so he’s looking for extra work…”
Elena caught her husband’s calm gaze, smiled slightly, and turned to her sister-in-law:
“Inna, come in quickly, the meat’s already on the grill. Let’s head to the table.”
The evening turned out to be surprisingly lively and cheerful. Friends swapped stories and talked about the latest news, while Roman expertly handled the new grill, flipping juicy pieces of meat.
Elena looked around at this warm circle of friends and thought, this is exactly how family celebrations should feel—inviting close ones to share in your happiness, not to patch up someone’s wallet. Helping is important, but only when someone sincerely and respectfully asks for it.
Several more times throughout the evening, Inna tried to steer the conversation back to her gardening problems and money troubles, but her hints were gently drowned out by laughter, clinking glasses, and the happy buzz, no longer finding the sympathy they once had.
