I handed my mother the keys to your pre-marital apartment. Let her stay there for a while, I said,” Pasha casually revealed.
Lera froze, still holding a towel in her hands. Water droplets from her wet hair fell onto her shoulders, leaving dark spots on her T-shirt.
“What did you just say?” Her voice was quiet, but a storm was already brewing inside her.
I repeated, trying to stay calm.
“Mom’s going to stay in your apartment for a bit. She needs a place, until…”
“IN MY apartment?!” Lera threw the towel to the floor. “Are you kidding me?”
“Listen,” I tried to take her hand, but she jerked it away like it was on fire. “Mom’s going through a tough time. You know how it is with her and dad…”
“I don’t care about your parents!” Lera started pacing the room. “This is MY apartment. I bought it before we got married. What the hell are you doing handing out keys to MY property?!”
I took a deep breath. Stay calm, stay calm.
“Lera, let’s sit down and talk, like adults.”
“Like adults?!” She turned sharply to face me. “Fine. Explain to me how an adult can give away someone else’s property without the owner’s permission?”
We sat at the kitchen table. Lera stared at me, tapping her fingers on the surface.
“Mom’s having issues with dad,” I started. “You know how he… ” I trailed off, looking for the right words.
“…drinks and gets violent?” Lera finished for me. “Yeah, I know. So what? What does THAT have to do with MY apartment?”
“She needs somewhere to stay until it calms down. It’s temporary, I promise.”
Lera leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest.
“Temporary? How long is that? A week? A month? A year?”
I hesitated. Honestly, I had no idea how long it would take.
“Exactly,” Lera nodded, almost reading my mind. “You don’t have a clue. And I’m supposed to just accept that some stranger is living in MY apartment?”
“Mom’s not a stranger,” I argued. “She’s your mother-in-law.”
Lera snorted.
“Oh yeah, because we’re just best friends now! Especially after she called me a ‘barren goat’ at that last family dinner.”
I grimaced. I would rather forget that evening.
“She was drunk and…”
“And what?” Lera cut me off. “Is that an excuse? She hates me, Pasha. And now you’ve given her keys to MY apartment without even asking me!”
I rubbed my temples, the headache intensifying.
“Lera, where else is she supposed to go? The street? A homeless shelter?”
“And Uncle Kolya? Aunt Sveta? She has other relatives. Why MY apartment?”
I fell silent. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about other options. Mom called in tears, and I…
“You didn’t even try to find another solution, did you?” Lera shook her head. “You just grabbed my keys and handed them over.”
“Lera, I…”
“No, Pasha. Don’t even start,” she stood up from the table. “I don’t want to hear it. I need some air.”
Lera headed for the door. I quickly followed.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s none of your business.”
The front door slammed behind her. I was left alone in the oppressive silence of the apartment.
Three days passed. Lera barely spoke to me, responding only with one-word answers when necessary. She slept in the guest room. I could feel the distance growing between us, but I didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
On the fourth day, the doorbell rang. I opened it and saw my mother, with a large suitcase.
“Pavlik!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my neck. “Oh, son, I’m so happy to see you!”
She smelled of familiar perfume… and was that alcohol? I pulled away.
“Mom, have you been drinking?”
“Oh, don’t be silly!” she waved me off. “Just a little to calm my nerves. Where’s my favorite daughter-in-law?”
“Lera’s at work,” I lied. In truth, my wife had locked herself in the bedroom as soon as she heard the doorbell.
“Well, that’s good!” My mother squeezed into the apartment with her suitcase. “Can you help me with my things? I brought some gifts for the new home.”
I froze.
“Mom, we agreed this would be temporary…”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she was already rummaging around the kitchen. “Listen, do you have any drinks? The trip was exhausting.”
I sighed deeply.
“Mom, we need to talk.”
“About what, son?” she asked, already opening cabinets in search of alcohol.
“About you living in Lera’s apartment.”
My mother spun around sharply.
“What’s the problem? You were the one who offered! Or is it your… wife that has a problem?”
“Mom, that’s her apartment. And yes, Lera’s not happy with the situation.”
“Of course!” Mom threw her hands up dramatically. “As soon as I get in trouble, this… this…”
“Mom!” I raised my voice. “Stop. Lera’s got nothing to do with this. I messed up. I shouldn’t have…”
At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Lera appeared in the doorway.
“Hello, Nina Petrovna,” her voice was cold but polite.
“Oh! Look who decided to show up!” Mom threw her hands up. “I thought you were hiding from me, poor little mother-in-law!”
Lera clenched her fists but stayed silent. I tried to lighten the mood.
“Mom, maybe we can have some tea?”
“Tea?” Mom scoffed. “My husband’s an alcoholic, my son kicks me out, and you offer me tea?!”
“No one’s kicking you out,” I sighed. “We just need to figure out another solution. Maybe we can rent you a place.”
“With what money?” Mom was outraged. “You know I don’t have any! And that…,” she gestured towards Lera, “probably won’t give me a dime!”
Lera stepped forward.
“Nina Petrovna, I understand you’re going through a tough time. But that doesn’t give you the right to…”
“Rights?” Mom screeched. “You’re going to lecture me about rights? If it weren’t for you, my son would have taken me in by now! But no, you’re too delicate, too much of a princess to handle your own mother-in-law!”
I stepped between them.
“Enough! Both of you, calm down. Let’s sit and talk this through.”
Mom slumped onto the couch, dramatically sobbing. Lera stayed standing, arms crossed.
“Okay,” I started. “The situation is difficult, but…”
“Difficult?!” Mom interrupted. “You just don’t like me! You’re kicking your own mother out!”
“Nina Petrovna,” Lera’s voice was surprisingly calm. “No one is kicking you out. We just want to find a solution that works for everyone.”
“Everyone?” Mom smirked. “So, you? So you can keep pretending to be the perfect wife while keeping your mother-in-law at arm’s length?”
I saw Lera clenching her jaw. A few more seconds and she would explode. I needed to do something.
“Okay,” I clapped my hands. “I have an idea. Mom, you can stay with us for a week.”
“What?!” Both Lera and Mom exclaimed in unison.
“Yes,” I nodded. “During that time, we’ll find you a place. I’ll cover the first three months’ rent. And then…”
“And then what?” Mom squinted. “You’re going to throw me out?”
“No,” I sighed. “Then Lera and I will help with the payments. But you’ll need to find a job.”
Mom puffed up.
“Me? Work? At my age?”
“Yes, Mom. You’re only 55. You can still work.”
Lera stayed quiet, but I could see her slowly relaxing. This was a compromise, and she understood it.
“Alright,” Mom finally said. “But only if Lera promises not to kick me out early.”
I looked at my wife. She took a deep breath.
“I promise, Nina Petrovna. You can stay for a week.”
“Good!” Mom jumped up from the couch. “Now, where’s the bathroom? The trip was exhausting, I need to freshen up.”
As soon as Mom closed the bathroom door, Lera turned to me.
“One week, Pasha. Not a day longer.”
I nodded.
“I promise. Thanks for agreeing.”
She smiled sadly.
“Did I have a choice?”
I hugged her.
“You did. And you chose right. I love you.”
“And I love you,” she whispered. “But if your mother calls me a barren goat again, I’ll lose it.”
I laughed.
“Deal. Now, let’s figure out how to survive this week.”
The first three days were… let’s just say, not without adventure. Mom managed to flood the bathroom, burn our favorite pans, and drive our neighbor to hysterics by accusing her of stealing Mom’s favorite brooch (which, as it turned out, had just fallen behind the couch).
Lera held up remarkably well. She silently wiped up the puddles, tossed the burnt pans, and apologized to the neighbor. But I could see her patience wearing thin.
On the fourth day, all hell broke loose.
I came home from work and heard shouting from the kitchen. I rushed in and saw Lera and Mom facing off. Between them lay a broken vase—the wedding gift from Lera’s parents.
“What’s going on here?” I asked, glancing from one to the other.
“This… this…” Lera was gasping with frustration. “She broke the vase on purpose! Because I refused to give her money for alcohol!”
“No, I didn’t!” Mom protested. “I just wanted to dust! And this ungrateful girl attacked me with accusations!”
“Dust?!” Lera threw her hands up. “In the cupboard where the dishes are kept?!”
I took a deep breath.
“Okay, both of you, calm down. Mom, why do you need money for alcohol?”
Mom puffed out her cheeks.
“You don’t understand, son. I’m stressed!”
“Stressed?!” Lera couldn’t hold back. “You’re stressed?! What about me? Is this a celebration?”
I tried to intervene.
“Girls, let’s all calm down and…”
“No!” Lera turned to me. “I’ve been quiet all week. I’ve endured her antics, her drinking, her insults. But enough!”
Mom theatrically grabbed her chest.
“Oh, Pavlik! Do you see how she treats me? And I only wanted a little comfort…”
“Comfort?!” Lera screamed. “You drank all the alcohol in the house! You trashed the kitchen! You insult me at every chance!”
I saw Lera shaking with rage. Her usually calm eyes were shooting daggers.
“Sweetheart,” Mom said with a syrupy voice. “You just don’t understand how hard it is for an older woman…”
“Older?!” Lera scoffed. “You’re 55! You’re younger than my mom! And she, by the way, works and doesn’t complain!”
Mom sneered.
“Of course, your mom’s the ideal! But me, I’m just a worthless old hag?”
“I never said that!” Lera threw her hands up. “But you’re acting like…”
“Enough!” I couldn’t take it anymore. “Both of you, be quiet!”
They stared at me, equally shocked and upset.
“Mom,” I turned to my mother, “you promised to find a job. Instead, you’re drinking and causing scenes. That’s unacceptable.”
“Pavlik…”
“No more ‘buts,’” I was firm. “Tomorrow, we’re going to the employment center. And no alcohol in the house. Got it?”
Mom puffed up, but nodded.
“And you,” I turned to Lera, “you were right. And I… I’m sorry I put you through all this.”
Lera blinked, clearly not expecting that turn of events.
“Pasha, I…”
“No, let me finish,” I took her hands. “You’re amazing. You’ve endured all this for me. But no more. Tomorrow, we’ll find Mom an apartment. Any place. I’ll take out a loan if necessary.”
“Son!” Mom protested. “How can you?!”
“I can, Mom,” I looked her in the eyes. “Because I love you. But I love Lera too. And I won’t let you destroy our marriage.”
There was silence in the room. Lera stared at me with wide eyes. Mom was gasping, like a fish out of water.
“And now,” I exhaled, “we’ll all clean up this mess. And we’ll calmly discuss our plans for tomorrow. Like adults. Agreed?”
Lera slowly nodded. Mom muttered something unintelligible but nodded too.
We spent the rest of the evening cleaning the kitchen and making plans. To my surprise, Mom even suggested a few job options she had thought of. Lera, though still cautious, was constructive and even smiled at some of Mom’s jokes.
Late at night, when we finally went to bed, Lera snuggled up to me.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For standing by me. For not letting her destroy us.”
I kissed the top of her head.
“I should have done this sooner. I’m sorry.”
She raised her head, her eyes glistening with tears.
“You know, I really wanted to love your mom. I thought maybe, when we had kids…”
I shivered. We had been trying for a baby for a while, but with no luck. It was a painful topic for both of us.
“Hey,” I lifted her chin, looking into her eyes, “we’ll be fine. We’ll sort things out with Mom and have kids. We just need time.”
Lera smiled through her tears.
“Promise?”
“I swear,” I kissed her. “Now, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s an important day.”
A month passed. Mom is now living in a small rented apartment nearby. She works as a receptionist in a beauty salon—turns out, she’s good at talking to people when she’s sober.
Lera and I visit her every weekend. At first, it was awkward, but slowly the atmosphere warmed up. Mom even apologized to Lera for her behavior. Clumsily, with caveats, but sincerely.
Yesterday, Lera told me something that still has me spinning. We’re going to Mom’s to tell her that in seven months, she’ll be a grandmother.
I look at Lera, sitting beside me in the car. She’s nervous, fiddling with the hem of her blouse.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, squeezing her hand.
She smiles.
“I know. It’s just… a big step.”
I nod. It is a big step. For all of us.
We pull up to Mom’s house. Lera takes a deep breath and exhales.
“Ready?” I ask.
She nods.
“Ready. Let’s do this.”
We get out of the car and walk to the entrance. I ring the doorbell.
“Hello?” Mom’s voice comes through.
“Hi, Mom. It’s us. We’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh, how exciting! Come up quickly!”
We enter the elevator. Lera squeezes my hand.
“It’ll be fine,” I repeat.
She smiles.
“I know. We’re together.”
The elevator doors open. Mom is already waiting for us at the door, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, tell me! What’s the surprise?”
I look at Lera. She takes a deep breath and says:
“Nina Petrovna, we… we’re expecting a baby.”
Mom’s face freezes for a second, then breaks into a wide smile.
“My dear children!” She rushes to hug us both. “What a joy! I’m so happy for you!”
I feel Lera relax in my mom’s embrace. And I realize: we made it. We overcame the crisis. And now, a new chapter awaits us—together.
Maybe even as a family of four—if you count the grandmother, who seems to have finally grown up along with us.