“I don’t understand. Why did you show up an hour early?” Lyudmila Yuryevna was standing at the stove with her back to me.
“The bus schedule changed,” I said, carefully hanging my raincoat on the hook. “Where’s Kirill?”
“He’s sitting in the room. Hungry, by the way. Because of those shifts of yours at the pharmacy, you can’t even feed your child proper food. Some mother you are. All you think about are your little jars!”
I looked at her hands. She was cutting a lemon into thin, almost transparent slices. On the kitchen shelf, right above the microwave, a small green ceramic spoon rest glimmered dully. It was old, covered with a greasy film. My mother-in-law always moved it from place to place when she was angry.
“I left soup and cutlets on Friday,” my voice sounded even. “He couldn’t have gone hungry.”
“Your soup should be poured down the drain, not given to a child,” she turned around, wiping her fingers on a towel. “All right, come in. We need to talk anyway. Seriously.”
I sat down on the edge of the hard stool. The familiar leaden heaviness began growing inside me. I knew I shouldn’t have left my son here for the whole weekend. I had wanted a celebration, imagine that. A coworker’s anniversary, a café, karaoke. I had decided to feel free for two days. My own fault. I had trusted her.
“What do we need to talk about?” I asked, smoothing a crease on my jeans.
“Money, Marina. My money. One hundred and twenty thousand rubles disappeared from my dresser. They were there on Friday. Yesterday you came by and brought Kirill his spare shoes. By evening, the money was gone. No one except you went into the bedroom.”
The air in the kitchen seemed to grow thick. I watched as yellow lemon juice slowly spread across the wooden cutting board.
“Are you accusing me right now?” I raised my head.
“I’m stating a fact,” Lyudmila Yuryevna narrowed her eyes, and her voice took on that same confident, mistress-of-the-house tone she usually used when scolding the neighbors. “There’s no one else. Vanechka was out of town altogether, Alyosha was at work. Well? Where did you put it? Paying off your loans behind your husband’s back again?”
“I don’t have any loans,” I replied, trying not to burst into a shout. “And I don’t need your money.”
“Don’t yell at me in my own house!” she snapped, stepping forward. “Thief! A pure thief! Did you think an old woman wouldn’t notice? Did you decide that since I live on a twenty-thousand-ruble pension, I couldn’t possibly have savings?”
Kirill appeared in the hallway. He was clutching a plastic robot with a broken wing to his chest. His eyes were round with fear.
“Lyudmila Yuryevna, calm down,” I stood up, feeling my fingers go numb. “We’re leaving. Kiryusha, put your shoes on.”
“Where do you think you’re going?!” my mother-in-law rushed toward me, her face twisted with rage. “Give back the money, I said!”
And then her hand flew up. The sharp, dry sound of the slap rang out unexpectedly loudly. My right cheek burned with a sharp, pulsing pain. The slap was precise, full-force, backhanded. Kirill cried out and hid behind my leg.
I didn’t cry. I just looked at her. For a second, fear flashed in Lyudmila Yuryevna’s eyes, but she immediately tried to hide it behind her usual outrage.
“Come on, son,” I said quietly, took Kirill by the hand, and walked to the door. Quickly, without looking back at the shouts flying after me.
The Home Front
“Marina, how could this happen?” Alexey didn’t even take off his shoes. He walked straight into the kitchen. “My mother called me. She’s in tears. She says you insulted her and ran away.”
I was sitting by the window, pressing a bag of frozen broccoli to my cheek. The pain had already faded, leaving only an ugly crimson mark.
“She hit me, Lyosha,” I turned my face toward him. “In front of Kirill. Backhanded.”
“Well… she’s an elderly woman,” he faltered, looked away, and began fiddling with the keys in his jacket pocket. “Her blood pressure shot up. They called an ambulance. She’s hot-tempered, you know that. But that’s not the point. She says one hundred and twenty thousand really disappeared. Cash. From her dresser.”
“And you think I did it?” I put the cold bag down on the table.
“I didn’t say that!” Lyosha threw up his hands, his voice cracking. “But Mom says no one except you went into the bedroom. Maybe you accidentally moved it? When you were packing Kirill’s things? Try to remember. Things happen.”
“I didn’t go into her bedroom,” my voice was dry as sand. “I left the bag with the shoes on the cabinet in the hallway. That’s all.”
“Marina, Mom has no reason to lie! Why would she make this up? The money is gone. It was her funeral money. She saved it for a year. Be the bigger person, don’t make things worse.”
“So you believe her, not me?” I looked at the husband I had lived with for twelve years. And for the first time, instead of a man, I saw a frightened boy who feared his mother’s anger more than anything in the world.
“What does belief have to do with it?” he shouted, then glanced fearfully toward the nursery door and lowered his voice to a hiss. “We just need to go there and calmly sort everything out. Apologize to her for being harsh. She’ll cool down, and together we’ll look for those miserable thousands. They must have gotten lost somewhere!”
“I’m not going there. And I have nothing to apologize for. She raised her hand against me.”
“You’re stubborn beyond words,” Alexey sat down on a chair, gripping his head with both hands. “Because of your pride, we’re all going to fall out now. Mom said that until the money is returned or you confess, she won’t let you set foot in her home. And she won’t let you see Kirill either.”
“That’s her right,” I answered.
Lyosha’s phone rang on the table. His younger brother’s name lit up on the screen. Lyosha immediately grabbed the phone.
“Yes, Vanya. No, she denies it… I don’t know what to think either… How’s Mom?… I see. They gave her injections? All right, I’ll try to talk to her again.”
He hung up and looked at me with heavy reproach.
“Vanya says Mom is sobbing uncontrollably. Her heart is acting up. Marina, be human. Even if you took it, just tell me. We’ll quietly return it and say it got mixed up with some things. No one will ever know.”
I slowly stood up from the chair. Inside, everything had burned to ashes.
“Leave, Lyosha,” I said quietly. “Pack your things and go to your mother. Right now.”
The Question from the Corner
“Mom, why was Dad shouting and why did he leave with a big bag?” Kirill came up to me while I was sorting through the medicine in our home first-aid kit.
“We need to live separately for a while, sweetheart,” I stroked his cool cheek. “That happens sometimes. Don’t worry.”
“Is it because of those papers Grandma hid?” he suddenly asked, turning the broken wing of his robot in his hands.
I froze with a standard pack of paracetamol in my hands.
“What papers, Kiryusha?”
“Well, those thick ones, with pictures on them. On Friday evening, when you were still at work at your pharmacy, Uncle Vanya came. He loudly asked Grandma for money for some car part. He said they’d hurt him if he didn’t repay the debt.”
“And what did Grandma do?” I tried to speak as calmly as possible, although inside everything had turned to ice.
“Grandma argued at first. She said she didn’t have any more, that he had drained her dry. Then she went to the bedroom, brought out a big envelope, and shoved it into that green cup on the shelf, where the spoon lies. You know, that holder thing. And she said to Uncle Vanya, ‘Here, take it, but not a word to Lyoshka, or he’ll start grumbling that I’m helping you again.’ And Uncle Vanya took the envelope, kissed her, and left.”
“Are you sure, Kiryusha?” I crouched down in front of him, looking into his eyes.
“Yes. I was sitting on the carpet in the big room, fixing my robot. Grandma thought I was asleep because the hallway light was off. Mom, why did Grandma say on Sunday that you took it? Did she forget that she gave it to Uncle Vanya herself?”
“Maybe she forgot, sweetheart,” I answered.
Inside me, an absolute, heavy silence settled. The narcotic substance of lies in which this family had lived for years had finally left a residue.
I understood everything. My mother-in-law hadn’t forgotten. She was simply panicked that her older son, Alexey, would find out where his money was going. After all, it was Lyosha who gave his mother thirty thousand rubles every month “for medicine and groceries.” And she was using it to support thirty-year-old Vanya, the useless layabout. And when the sum was finally gone, she needed a scapegoat. Convenient Marina, forever silent, always enduring her nitpicking.
I took out my phone and dialed my husband’s number.
“Lyosha,” I said when he answered. “Bring your mother and Vanya to our place tomorrow evening. We’re going to sort out the money.”
The Point of “No”
They came on Tuesday at seven in the evening. Lyudmila Yuryevna walked in front, clutching a downy shawl to her chest. A martyr’s mask was frozen on her face. Ivan walked behind her, hiding his hands in his jacket pockets and staring at the floor. Alexey brought up the rear, looking lost and angry.
“Well, Marina,” my mother-in-law began, sitting down on the kitchen bench with a sigh. “Alyosha said you decided to come to your senses. I came, even though my blood pressure is one-eighty over one hundred. But I’m ready to forgive you if you return everything now. We’re family, after all. These things happen. The devil led you astray.”
She said it with such unshakable confidence in her own righteousness that for a second, I almost found it funny. A typical scheme. First play the victim, then apply pressure.
“I didn’t take anything, Lyudmila Yuryevna,” I stood by the kitchen table with my arms crossed.
“How can your tongue even say that!” my mother-in-law immediately tossed off her shawl and leaned forward, her voice gaining strength. “Lyoshenka, just look at her! She’s mocking me! Vanya, tell her!”
Ivan mumbled without raising his eyes:
“Marina, seriously, just give back the money. Mom is sick because of you.”
“Vanya,” I turned to him. “What debt did you spend the one hundred and twenty thousand rubles on, the money your mother brought you in an envelope from the bedroom on Friday evening?”
A dead, vacuum-like silence hung in the kitchen. The cheap plastic clock on the wall could be heard ticking.
Ivan’s face changed instantly. It turned gray and earthy. He swallowed convulsively and looked at his mother.
“What?” Alexey asked, shifting his gaze from his brother to his wife. “What car? What Friday?”
“What are you making up, you crazy girl!” Lyudmila Yuryevna screamed, her voice breaking into a shriek. She tried to turn on the victim act again, trembling all over. “She wants to turn us against each other! Lyoshenka, son, don’t believe her! She’s lying about everything just to come out clean! She’s slandering a holy person, your own brother!”
“Vanya,” I ignored her screeching, looking straight into my brother-in-law’s eyes, widened with fear. “Kirill was sitting in the room on Friday and saw everything. And he heard Mom ask you not to tell Lyosha, because he would start grumbling. That’s what you came for, wasn’t it? Come on, answer your brother.”
Alexey slowly walked up to Ivan and grabbed his shoulder. Hard enough for the jacket to crackle.
“Vanya. Look at me. Is it true?”
“Lyokh… well…” Vanya started twisting in place, trying to pull away. “I really needed it… The collectors were calling, you understand? They would have buried me over the car loan debt. Mom gave it to me herself! She said you wouldn’t find out!”
Lyudmila Yuryevna suddenly fell silent. Her showy confidence melted away, leaving a deaf, animal rage on her face. She realized there was nothing left to hide.
“Yes! I gave it to him!” she shouted, looking at Alexey. “Because Vanya would be killed over that money! And you… you’d choke over every kopeck! You just blink your eyes while your pharmacy snake is waiting to leave us penniless! I wanted you to finally throw her out! She’s a stranger to us! A stranger!”
Alexey slowly lowered his hand. He shuddered. He looked at his mother as if he were seeing her for the first time in his life.
“You staged this circus… You slapped my wife in the face… just to cover for Vanya?” he asked quietly.
“So what?” my mother-in-law shot him a vicious look. “She would have endured it. She wouldn’t have fallen apart! At least then everyone would have stopped looking for the money!”
I took a deep breath. The tension that had held me for the past few days was replaced by icy, clear calm.
“That’s it,” I said, opening the front door. “Out of my house. All three of you.”
Alexey rushed toward me, his face trembling.
“Marina, wait… I didn’t know… I see now that Mom… I’ll talk to her, she’ll apologize…”
“No, Lyosha,” I looked him straight in the eyes. “You believed her immediately. You made me doubt myself. I don’t need a husband like that here. Your things are in boxes by the door. Take your mother, your brother, and leave.”
“But we’ve had twelve years…” he muttered, frozen in the doorway.
“I endured for twelve years,” I answered, taking a step back. “I won’t anymore. Leave.”
My mother-in-law, muttering curses, grabbed Ivan by the sleeve and was the first to dart out onto the stairwell. Alexey stood there for a few more seconds, then bent down, picked up two heavy cardboard boxes, and silently walked out after them.
I slammed the door and turned the lock twice.
New Air
The apartment felt unusually spacious. I went into the kitchen, where the smell of my mother-in-law’s expensive perfume still lingered, mixed with the cheap tobacco Vanya had smoked before coming inside.
On the kitchen table lay that very same green ceramic spoon rest. As it turned out, my mother-in-law had brought it with her in her bag — apparently, she had wanted to stage a scene where she “found” it with the money among my things, if the plan with the slap hadn’t worked completely. She had forgotten it in her rush.
I picked up the green object, walked over to the trash bin, and silently dropped it to the very bottom, right on top of the potato peels.
Kirill came out of the room. He was carefully carrying his repaired robot — I had helped him glue the wing back on with superglue that very morning.
“Mom, they won’t come anymore now?” he asked quietly.
“They won’t, sweetheart,” I crouched down and hugged his warm shoulders.
“And Dad?”
“Dad will come to see you on weekends. To go for walks. But the two of us will live together.”
“Okay,” the little boy nodded, pressed the robot to himself, and went back to his room. Without tears, without questions.
I walked over to the window and opened it wide. It was cool outside, smelling of wet asphalt and freshly cut grass. The city was living its ordinary, noisy life. Somewhere out there, in a residential district on the outskirts, Lyudmila Yuryevna was probably screaming now, accusing Alexey of every mortal sin. But here, on the fourth floor of an old panel apartment building, it was quiet.
I didn’t know how I would pay the utility bills next week, how I would arrange my shifts at the pharmacy so I could pick Kirill up from kindergarten on time, or what I would say to my mother on the phone. It would probably be hard. There would probably be court hearings ahead, division of property, and long, unpleasant conversations through third parties.
But for the first time in my life, that uncertainty did not frighten me. All I felt was bitter, deep relief, as if I had finally thrown off a huge, filthy sack I had been carrying on my shoulders for many years for the sake of some imaginary family peace.
A gray city bird landed on the windowsill, stepped across the metal for a moment, and flew back into the sky. I watched it until its silhouette dissolved between the gray roofs of the neighboring buildings.
