“It’s amazing how you manage to confuse a dacha with a hotel, and yourselves with royalty. There’s no staff here to wait on you!”
“At last, we’re here,” sighed the young man, setting the bags down on the floor of the room.
“I’ve been waiting for this vacation just for this moment,” his wife replied and leaned in for a kiss.
She had only recently defended her diploma but was already working. In a month, a new major project was starting, and she wanted to have a proper rest and gather her strength. He had received a well-deserved vacation, and now, delighted with their youth, the wonderful weather, and complete seclusion, they had arrived at the dacha.
The dacha was in a small village. The house stood on the bank of a little river, and on the edge of the settlement stretched a beautiful forest, where the young couple loved to walk.
In the yard there was a bathhouse, a grill, and even a lounging area with sunbeds. The house had all the amenities. The month the young couple planned to spend there promised to be filled with romance and happy moments.
Three days passed like a fairy tale
The sun shone not too hotly, and a light breeze drove away the midges. They had no desire to think about the internet or connect with the outside world, though the phone did occasionally ring.
“Answer it,” mumbled Olya, lying in a hammock under the shade of the apple tree, nodding toward the sound. Anton reluctantly opened his eyes and slipped out of his wife’s embrace.
“Yes. Oh, hi! Of course, let’s do it, it’s been ages! Yeah. Yes, yes, yes… Exactly! Alright then, we’ll be waiting.”
Olya propped herself up on her elbow and looked questioningly at her husband.
“Who was that?”
“Misha.”
“The one with Oksana and the twins?”
“Yeah.”
“And where exactly are we waiting for them?” Olya frowned slightly and raised her chin.
“Here, where else?”
“And you didn’t think to ask me?” she was genuinely puzzled and on the verge of getting angry.
“Come on, what’s the problem? It’ll be fun, you like having guests, and besides, we haven’t seen them in ages,” Anton tried to justify himself, moving closer to his wife. “And we’ll still have plenty of time alone together—they’re not staying for a week. Misha said just three days.” He kissed her on the cheek, and she laughed.
“Well, only if it’s not for a whole week,” Olya said playfully and started planning how and where she would settle the guests.
Guests arrive
The next morning at the quiet dacha was livelier than usual. Olya got up early to prepare a room for the guests and finish the tidying she hadn’t managed the day before. Anton was marinating meat.
The guests arrived by lunchtime and settled into the room their thoughtful hosts had prepared. The children ran around the garden and then tried to catch minnows from the footbridge, while the adults poured light wine into glasses and grilled shashlik. Everyone was in high spirits, ready to enjoy the time together.
“It really was fun at school, even if I hardly ever studied,” reminisced Misha, chewing on a piece of meat.
“Yes, especially when we all went to the vineyards with the whole class,” Anton confirmed. “We lived by the sea for almost a month, studied, and harvested grapes.”
“And how we stuffed ourselves with them!”
“That’s for sure…”
“Lucky you,” Oksana said in a slightly resentful tone. “You grew up by the sea, and all I ever did in the Urals was dig potatoes and whitewash trees. No sea, no sun, and definitely no grapes.”
“Oh, I don’t know what kind of school you went to, but we didn’t have labor training in mine. I got more than enough of that at home,” Olya replied. “Although, why complain,” she leaned back in her wicker chair and looked at the children, “school years are the most carefree and happy. Whatever happens, the memories are always bright…”
And so, over food and conversation, the first day passed. The old friends had a wonderful time, and the children, exhausted from running around the yard, fell asleep in minutes.
“You’ve got a great branch on your apple tree, perfect for a swing,” Misha told his friend when the women went to wash dishes and put the kids to bed.
“You think it’s worth making one?” Anton replied sleepily, yawning.
“I’ll make it myself, just give me a plank and a strong rope.”
“How do you know I even have that?”
“Who doesn’t have those at a dacha? We’ll find it…”
Anton’s eyes were closing uncontrollably, so he didn’t reply to his friend, though Misha’s words seemed a little presumptuous. The host felt that his guest was meddling, but sleepiness dulled even that feeling.
The picnic plan
The next day Olya prepared an entertainment program for the guests in the form of a picnic by the river.
While the men searched for a plank for the swing, and Oksana looked after the children, Olya packed two large baskets to take with them.
In one basket lay towels, armbands for the twins, and a couple of travel-sized board games. In the other, a sealed cooler, apples, watermelon, grapes, sandwiches, crackers, and bottles of drinks were kept chilled among bags of ice.
For the picnic they decided to go to the edge of the village—there was a “common” beach there. The spot was picturesque, with even a patch of clean sand. The friends settled in the shade of a sprawling oak and began playing board games, keeping an eye on the children who were splashing each other with water near the shore.
The outing turned out splendidly. They even managed to get the boat out. Anton and Olya rarely inflated it, but this time they remembered. The children enjoyed it, and the adults went for a ride too.
Another day slipped by unnoticed, and then another couple more…
By then, a swing had already been hung on a rope borrowed from Uncle Kolya, the neighbor, and the guests had been walked, bathed, and well fed. During the hottest part of the day, Anton and Olya would retreat into the house to lie under the air conditioner, while the guests were perfectly happy in the heat, sunbathing and listening to music outside.
“Shh, we’re not alone,” Olya pushed her husband away when he tried to kiss her.
“Why does that bother you?” Anton leaned back.
“Everything is bothering me now…” Olya sat up on the bed and looked at him sadly. “I don’t know what to do with Misha and Oksana tomorrow. The kids are fine—they’re happy just digging in the dirt—but with the adults I have to keep them entertained… They should have left yesterday, but they’re not even thinking of packing… I’m tired…”
“Then don’t entertain them if you don’t feel like it,” Anton said, and immediately realized he’d said something foolish. He knew his wife too well. She had been raised to believe that guests came first if she was the hostess; she could never bear to seem inhospitable. “Actually, you’re right. It really is time for them to go home.”
“Of course it is! I’m really glad they came, but their kids are so noisy! And we’ve only got one bathroom, I can’t get used to constantly waiting my turn… Please, talk to them,” Olya sighed and closed her eyes heavily.
The next day Anton began dropping hints to his friend that it was time for his family to head back to the city.
However, Misha absolutely refused to understand what was meant by the phrase:
“Ah, it’s been so long since Olya and I were alone together. In the city we share an apartment with her younger sister, and here it’s been nothing but guests, guests…”
To this, Misha only replied:
“I’d have run away from her younger sister too! It’s so nice here… quiet, pleasant. I could spend my whole life in a place like this!”
Gradually, the small inconveniences began to turn into big and tangible ones.
When Olya came into the kitchen in the mornings, she would often find unwashed dishes on the table or leftover food from the night before. Now she went to bed a little earlier, while the guests stayed up, chatting and watching TV. They also liked to eat late at night, once the heat had eased.
Anton began to notice that Misha constantly borrowed his things and never returned them to their place. That was the case with the binoculars, the flippers, and the charger. Anything that ended up in Misha’s hands could be found anywhere—except where it belonged.
The children broke a plate and an expensive clay mug, and twice nearly tripped over the wires to the television, almost pulling it down. For more than a week now, there had been no quiet at Anton and Olya’s dacha.
The hosts grew tired of forced smiles and speaking in hints, so they decided to say everything directly and clearly:
“We want to spend our vacation alone together,” Olya began hesitantly.
“I understand,” Misha replied without the slightest embarrassment.
“Misha, you said you’d stay for a couple of days. It’s been more than a week,” Olga said, looking at her husband’s friend. “When are you leaving?”
“I didn’t want to say it, but you left me no choice! You don’t understand hints—or you pretend not to,” Anton added, turning to Mikhail to back up his wife.
“Ah… well, just a couple more days of rest and we’ll go back to the city…” Misha said, glancing at his wife. A question appeared in Oksana’s eyes.
“We like it here so much, but if that’s how it is… Yes, a couple of days, and we’ll start packing. We won’t be in your way,” Oksana chimed in, sipping kvass from Olya’s mug—the same mug Olya had already asked her several times not to use or give to the children, especially since they had already broken one.
“Listen, I can’t take this anymore! You are in the way! Our vacation is ending!” Olya suddenly burst out. “The last thing I wanted was to spend my vacation serving and paying for your comfortable stay at our dacha! I’m tired of playing the gracious hostess and cleaning up after guests who should have left five days ago! I want to rest too. Since you don’t understand hints, I’ll say it outright—I want you to leave. Now.”
The guests stared at Olya in surprise and with offense.
“Is she kicking us out?” Oksana asked her husband in a tone as if it were her own home. Then she turned to Olga, her voice rising: “Are you kicking us out?”
“Yes,” Olya cut her off. “I’m tired of you. I want you to leave.”
Olya stood up, showing that the matter wasn’t up for discussion—because there was nothing to discuss.
Anton knew it was better not to say anything to his wife now; he had rarely seen Olya in such a state. But what surprised him was the reaction of their friends. Misha didn’t even flinch—he remained sprawled in the chair as if nothing had happened. Oksana froze, a slight smirk on her face:
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she muttered, shifting her gaze from Anton to Mikhail.
Anton looked at the guests and added:
“I’ve been hinting for four days already that it’s time to go, but you pretend not to understand. It’s your own fault. Neither Olya nor I wanted this. We were very glad to see you, but your audacity knows no bounds.”
Oksana slowly rose from her chair. She turned toward the kitchen, where Olya had gone.
“So this is what you call friendship? First you invite us, and now this? What, are you stingy with food? We would have paid you back for everything when we left, maybe even given extra. Did our kids bother you? You’re jealous because you don’t have your own—that’s why you’re so furious! And you’re turning your husband against me!” Oksana suddenly screamed at Olya, her voice shrill and unnatural. “We’ll leave! We’ll leave right now!”
The woman stormed off to her room to pack. Misha trailed after her. Anton and Olya exchanged glances.
For another half hour the guests hauled their things, which they had scattered all over the property. The children fussed and didn’t want to leave. Oksana hissed only:
“Auntie Olya has things to do, so we can’t stay here. Yes, we promised you two weeks at the lake, but, well, it turned out a little shorter…”
Olya listened and could only marvel at such shamelessness.
They had planned to stay for two weeks, yet hadn’t even thought it necessary to coordinate their plans with the hosts, nor had they discussed what food or drinks to bring. During all the days they were guests, Misha never once offered to contribute to buying groceries—not even chips, snacks, sweets, or fruit for his children. Oksana never once offered to help with cleaning, always claiming that she needed to help the children bathe, brush their hair, and then spend time talking with them before bed.
“I wonder, have they pulled this trick on other acquaintances too?”—with this thought Olya sat on the bench by the house, watching as her husband closed the gate behind their friends’ car.
Silence settled inside the house. Only the large wall clock ticked away with its hands.
“Maybe I was wrong? I lost my temper! It came out so harsh… And I caused a rift between you and Misha,” Olya said thoughtfully to her husband.
“You… We held out as long as we could… It’s my fault, really. I should have dealt with it myself as soon as the weekend was over. I should have gone straight to him and asked openly. But I kept playing around… I let the situation drag on until it hit the breaking point,” he replied. “But you, my dear, did great! You did the right thing! People like that need to be taught a lesson and put in their place.”
“Tosh, let’s spend the rest of our vacation without guests… If you want to see someone, we’ll go visit for a day or two, but let’s not invite anyone here. And next time, please, talk to me first before agreeing to anyone’s visit.”
“Olya, there won’t be a next time. Not without your consent, that’s for sure! Misha’s really killed my appetite for having guests for a long while,” Anton joked. “Movie night or… no movie night?” he asked his wife.
The next three days passed like a fairy tale, and just over a week remained of their vacation.
The young couple turned off their phones so that nothing and no one could disturb their peaceful rest.
“Is it just me, or is someone knocking at the gate?” Olya put down her book and looked at Anton questioningly. He opened his eyes and listened. Sure enough, someone was rattling the handle at the gate. They had never installed a doorbell, and they always kept the gate shut.
Anton rolled out of the hammock, and Olya got up after him.
“Do you have any idea who it might be?” Anton asked.
“Of course not!”
The voices outside the gate sounded familiar to Anton. He opened the wicket.
“Antokha! Here we are! Surprise!” several people shouted over each other.
“Oh no, not this!” Anton thought, glancing back at Olya. She rolled her eyes upward and pulled her cap down tighter…
