After a taxing day working in the medical center’s accounting department, Nadezhda climbed the stairs, feeling the clingy dampness of her blouse in the sweltering July heat and noting her document bag’s unusual weight. Her parents had left a week earlier for their aunt’s countryside house, entrusting Nadezhda with the keys to their second-floor apartment to tend to the flowers and collect mail.
Pausing on the landing between the second and third floors, Nadezhda froze as boisterous voices and laughter burst through her parents’ door. The music blared so loudly the door even vibrated, accelerating her heartbeat. Yet, her parents were not to return for another three days.
Pressing her ear gently against the door, Nadezhda distinctly recognized her mother-in-law, Valentina Dmitrievna’s voice among the strangers. The woman was recounting something intermittently interrupted by bursts of laughter. A toast was made somewhere, and the television’s volume rose even higher.
Trembling slightly, Nadezhda pulled out her phone, calling her husband. The first call went unanswered. The second attempt, moments later, met silence again, followed by a third that reached voicemail. Panic stirred in her stomach, but she clenched her teeth; Oleg clearly knew his mother’s whereabouts.
Quietly, she retrieved a key from her keychain and slipped it into the lock. The door opened silently to reveal a thick stench: a mixture of tobacco smoke, alcohol, and a faint sweet odor. Her mother’s beloved lilies, resting on the windowsill, drooped from the suffocating atmosphere.
Scattered footwear — men’s boots, women’s sandals, and toddler’s sneakers — cluttered the hall. Nearby, an empty vodka bottle stood beside an overflowing ashtray. Removing her shoes, Nadezhda tiptoed into the living room.
What she saw made her grasp the doorframe for support. The pristine white tablecloth, washed only on special occasions, was stained with red splotches and ash. About the table lay three empty bottles of vodka, several beers, and her mother’s crystal glasses filled with cigarette butts.
Cushions from the sofa were tossed on the floor, and damp circles from bottles blemished the polished coffee table. One of her mother’s crystal vases rested safely on its side, thankfully unbroken.
Five individuals gathered around the table, with Valentina Dmitrievna presiding like the lady of the house. To her side sat a man in a crumpled shirt, two women roughly her age, and a teenager around sixteen, who was smoking despite his youth.
“Then my daughter-in-law announces she’s going on vacation not to our dacha but to her parents’! Can you believe it? We’re strangers to her!” Valentina Dmitrievna exclaimed, waving a glass of vodka.
“Oh, come on, Valya, youth today prioritizes their own family,” one woman replied, lighting another cigarette.
“What family?” the mother-in-law snapped indignantly. “My son is her family! And what about the parents? They won’t support her once the kids leave!”
The music drowned out all other sounds, leaving Nadhezda unnoticed at the doorway. The group brazenly made themselves at home. The teenager flicked ash onto the carpet, while the man planted his dirty boots on her mother’s armchair.
“What a nice apartment,” the second woman commented, surveying the room. “Downtown, freshly renovated. They’re lucky.”
“Right,” agreed Valentina Dmitrievna. “We’ll never have one like this. The daughter-in-law grew up here and inherited everything ready-made.”
Nadezhda clenched her fists, recalling how her parents sacrificed endlessly to renovate the home; her father worked two jobs, and her mother sewed at night. Every penny was hard-earned.
Suddenly, Valentina Dmitrievna rose, heading toward the china cabinet. Nadezhda noticed her pick up a delicate porcelain figurine — a treasured gift from her late grandmother.
“Such a beautiful piece,” Valentina Dmitrievna remarked, turning the figurine over in her hands. “Probably antique.”
“Valya, what are you doing?” the man chuckled. “You aren’t planning to take it, are you?”
“Why not?” shrugged the mother-in-law. “It just collects dust. The daughter-in-law doesn’t appreciate these things; young people only care about their phones nowadays.”
Unable to tolerate any more, Nadezhda stepped out from the shadows, clapping her hands loudly. The music persisted, but all chatter ceased instantly. Five pairs of eyes fixed on her.
Valentina Dmitrievna froze, clutching the figurine with a mix of surprise, fear, and irritation flickering across her face.
“Nadyusha!” she feigned astonishment, hastily returning the figurine. “What are you doing here?”
Calmly scanning the room, Nadezhda noted every sign of disarray: the stains on the tablecloth, cigarette butts in crystal glasses, dirty boot prints on the chair, ash on the carpet, and the damp rings on the polished table.
“I live upstairs,” she replied evenly. “My parents gave me keys to care for this apartment while they’re away.”
The group exchanged glances. The teenager quickly extinguished his cigarette on the floor, and the man withdrew his feet from the armchair.
“We only stopped by…” a woman began.
“For an hour,” Valentina Dmitrievna interrupted. “Nothing serious. Just to chat, reminisce. We’re practically family, Nadezhda.”
“Almost family doesn’t smoke in others’ homes and leave cigarette butts in crystal glasses,” Nadezhda responded quietly.
Flushed, Valentina Dmitrievna looked embarrassed as the guests fidgeted uneasily.
“Nadya, come on…” she started defensively. “We’re family! Oleg isn’t against this; I spoke with him.”
“If Oleg agreed, why didn’t he answer my calls?” Nadezhda showed her phone screen filled with missed calls.
Speechless, Valentina Dmitrievna’s mouth hung open. The man began gathering empty bottles, preparing to leave.
“We’ll clean everything up now,” another woman quickly offered. “Nothing serious happened.”
Opening the window wide, Nadezhda let in fresh air, watching the tobacco smoke gradually dissipate. Facing the group, she extended her palm forward.
“Return the keys to my parents’ apartment — right now.”
Valentina Dmitrievna recoiled, her face turning crimson, pretending ignorance.
“What keys?” she stammered.
“The ones you used to enter this apartment,” Nadezhda replied matter-of-factly. “Only I have keys from my parents. So, Oleg must have given you a set.”
Whispering began among the group. The teenager stood up, heading toward the exit.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Nadezhda stopped him. “No one leaves until they clean up their mess.”
“We’ll tidy up now,” Valentina Dmitrievna hurried. “About the keys… I didn’t realize you’d object.”
“You knew well you were throwing a party in someone else’s home without permission. Hand over the keys,” Nadezhda insisted firmly.
Her hand remained outstretched, unwavering.
The man laughed nervously, hastily collecting bottles into a bag. One woman began brushing ash from the tablecloth while the teenager tied his sneakers in the hallway.
“Come on, Val, it’s late, and we have work tomorrow,” muttered the man without looking up.
With flushed cheeks and shaking hands, Valentina Dmitrievna reached into her purse and dropped a bunch of keys into Nadezhda’s palm.
“Here are your keys,” she said defiantly. “Happy now?”
Nadezhda gripped the keys silently. The power had shifted entirely into her hands, a fact the guests understood well.
“Please leave the apartment,” she said calmly, pointing toward the door.
The guests hastily gathered their things. Murmurs of apology floated as a man finished the last sip from his bottle. Valentina Dmitrievna silently packed a cigarette pack into her bag.
“We didn’t mean any harm,” one woman explained. “Just sat down to talk.”
“In a stranger’s home without permission,” Nadezhda replied. “Smoking, drinking, damaging belongings.”
Putting on her summer jacket, Valentina Dmitrievna stopped abruptly at the doorway, spinning around sharply.
“Don’t forget who’s the elder in this family!” she yelled. “I’m your husband’s mother! I decide where I’m welcome!”
Gazing back with a cold, steady look, Nadezhda responded, “This is my parents’ apartment. Here, I have authority. You will no longer enter.”
Stunned as if slapped, Valentina Dmitrievna was swiftly ushered out by the company. Nadezhda locked the door and leaned against it.
The silence after the chaos was deafening. Returning to the living room, she began cleaning up — folding the sofa pillows, collecting cigarette butts from crystal glasses, wiping off damp rings from the coffee table.
The stained tablecloth was removed and soaked in cold water. Nadezhda opened all windows and turned on the fan, allowing fresh air to replace the lingering tobacco smell with the fragrance of her mother’s lilies.
Once the worst was cleaned, her phone rang. It was Oleg.
“Nadya, Mom says you yelled at her,” he blurted without greeting.
“Your mother held a party in my parents’ home,” Nadezhda cut in calmly. “With strangers, smoking, and damaging property.”
“You’re exaggerating. Mom just gathered with friends. I gave her keys to water plants if needed.”
“I’m the one watering the plants. I have the keys. We’ll talk at home. Your mother will no longer visit my parents’ apartment.”
Ending the call, Nadezhda’s hands still trembled, but a new confidence settled within. The boundary was drawn, clear and permanent.
The next morning, Nadezhda visited a locksmith to change the apartment’s locks. The technician came the same day. Only Nadezhda and her parents received the new keys.
Upon their return, Nadezhda honestly relayed everything. Her father listened silently; her mother gasped upon seeing the stained tablecloth.
“You did right, daughter,” her father declared. “No outsiders will take over our home.”
“Good thing you caught them,” added her mother. “Who knows what else they might have done.”
Oleg insisted his mother receive the keys back, sparking disagreements for two nights. He accused Nadezhda of disrespecting elders and undermining family ties.
“Either you stand with me, or we settle this decisively,” she said firmly. “I won’t allow anyone to cross my family’s boundaries again.”
Oleg fell silent. Divorce wasn’t an option; their mortgage was joint.
A month passed without Valentina Dmitrievna reaching out. She cautiously tried to mend relations, initially sending invitations through Oleg for family dinners, then calling herself to request meetings.
“Nadyusha, let’s forget this foolishness,” the mother-in-law urged in a conciliatory tone. “We are family and must support each other.”
Nadezhda agreed to resume contact, but meetings shifted exclusively to public places or Valentina Dmitrievna’s home. She no longer entered the parental apartment. Keys remained with the trusted owners.
Key Takeaway: Boundaries within families, once set firmly and respectfully, foster mutual recognition and redefine relationships for the better.
This incident transformed family hierarchy permanently. Valentina Dmitrievna realized that her daughter-in-law was resolute, capable of defending her rights, and unwilling to tolerate overstepping. Respect took time to grow but eventually prevailed. Meanwhile, Nadezhda never doubted her right to assert a decisive “no.”