“Why do you need to go to the dacha? The two of you can celebrate New Year’s perfectly well at home. And we have a big family — three kids. We need to keep them occupied during the holidays!” exclaimed Larisa, making no effort to hide her irritation. “Do you have any idea what it’s like — living with three children?”
“No, I don’t,” Lera replied calmly. “Misha and I haven’t thought about children yet. First we need our own place and stable jobs, and then we’ll plan a family.”
“Ha! Grisha and I didn’t plan anything!” snapped Larisa.
“Well, that’s why you live off child benefits,” Lera remarked. “Grisha jumps from one job to another — no stability at all. I don’t want to live like that!”
“That’s our business. Don’t count other people’s money!” barked Larisa. “So, are you giving me the keys to the dacha?”
“No,” Lera replied firmly. “We’ve already planned to celebrate there with friends.”
“Then change your plans! If you won’t give me the keys nicely, I’ll call Misha and tell him how rude you are to me,” Larisa threatened.
“Go ahead — as much as you want,” Lera smirked.
Larisa pulled an annoyed face and stormed out of the apartment.
The dacha that her sister-in-law had set her sights on had come to Lera from her grandmother. The old lady was of advanced age, so Lera’s parents insisted that Valentina Ivanovna live in the city year-round under their supervision.
“Dacha” was just a name — in reality, it was a proper village house with all the amenities. Five years ago, Lera’s parents built an extension to make a bathroom for Valentina Ivanovna and even installed an air conditioner.
Grandma Valya had flatly refused to move to the city, but when her legs began to fail her, she started thinking about it more often. She strictly ordered that the house must not be sold and that the garden must be taken care of so that not a single tree would suffer from frost or cold.
Lera asked her parents to entrust her with looking after the house. She remembered spending her summer vacations at her grandmother’s as a child. Those memories were some of the brightest and happiest moments of her childhood.
After persuading her husband, Lera decided to do some cosmetic renovations in the house: re-paper the walls, repaint the ceilings, replace the chandeliers, and swap some furniture for more modern pieces.
A lot of effort and money had gone into it. But now the house was comfortable for spending weekends there any time of year. So the young couple didn’t hesitate to invite friends to celebrate New Year’s there.
However, that’s when Larisa showed up and demanded that Lera give her the house instead. What audacity! She justified it by saying that Misha was younger and therefore had to yield to his older sister. But Lera couldn’t understand what her grandmother’s house had to do with any of that and didn’t feel the slightest guilt for refusing so sharply.
Larisa flushed with anger and indignation. Instead of calling her younger brother, she decided to turn up at his workplace. At first Misha didn’t even understand what was happening when, in the middle of the workday, he saw his sister burst into his department.
“Misha!” she exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of his colleagues. “We need to talk urgently!”
“Quiet!” her brother interrupted. “People are working here — though I doubt you know what that means. Let’s go to the smoking area.”
Misha lit a cigarette, sensing that his sister’s visit wouldn’t bring anything good.
“What do you want?” he asked briefly.
“I demand the keys to your dacha!” Larisa continued shrieking.
“What dacha?” Misha didn’t immediately understand what she meant. “Ah! You mean the village house?”
“Yes, exactly that one,” Larisa confirmed irritably, pursing her lips like a duck. “I’ve already planned how I’m going to celebrate New Year’s! So you need to talk to your wife and take the keys from her,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, clearly unwilling to back down.
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. How dare you come up with something like this and even make demands?” Mikhail asked indignantly. “It’s already December twenty-fifth, and normal people inform others of their plans in advance!”
“Don’t tell me how to live, you runt!” his sister barked.
“There’s only five years between us! That might have mattered in childhood, but not now,” Mikhail tried to reason with her. “My break is over — time for you to go home.”
Larisa left even more displeased than she had arrived. But she was not ready to give up.
On the morning of December thirty-first, Lera was rushing through the stores while Misha was finishing his last workday of the year. He assured her that he’d be free after lunch and they would manage everything in time, but his wife was still anxious.
Luckily, everything went according to plan, and by six in the evening the young couple had arrived in the village. It took some effort to get the house heated. At nine o’clock the guests were expected to start arriving, to set the table together, grill shashlik, and properly bid farewell to the outgoing year.
“Mish, I think someone just pulled up,” Lera said. “Probably Irina and Petya came early to help. They’re always the most punctual!” she added with a smile.
“I’ll go meet them and help with the bags,” Misha replied.
“Of course,” Lera beamed with happiness. Finally, New Year’s would be celebrated just as she had always dreamed — outdoors, surrounded by beloved friends.
Misha hastily threw on his down jacket and stepped into the yard. As he opened the gate, he froze in shock.
“Hi, little brother!” Larisa exclaimed, rushing to kiss him on both cheeks. “Happy New Year!”
It took Misha a moment to recover. While Grisha was unloading the bags from the car, Larisa was saying something about the celebration — but Misha wasn’t listening, still trying to process the fact that his sister had shown up at their dacha.
At last he shook his head and said:
“What are you doing here? We settled everything a week ago!”
“Well, you decided that,” Larisa raised her eyebrows. “I never said I agreed.”
“Mish, why are you two stuck out here?” Lera came out to them. “Larisa?” she asked in surprise, seeing her husband’s older sister.
“Yes!” Larisa declared proudly. “Not everything goes the way you want,” she added smugly.
As soon as Grisha tried to carry the first batch of bags into the house, Misha grabbed his arm sharply.
“You’re not entering the house,” he said harshly.
While Larisa was helping the children unbuckle their seatbelts, she heard the rudeness directed at her husband and immediately pounced on her brother.
“Let go of Grisha, now!” she barked.
“I won’t. Pack up and leave right now!” Mikhail raised his voice.
“What did you say?” Larisa asked with contempt, jerking her arm out of his grip.
“You heard me!”
“We’re not going anywhere,” she declared arrogantly. “We have a whole car full of kids.”
“I love my nieces and nephews, but today they’ll have to celebrate New Year’s somewhere else,” Mikhail explained. “You’re not coming into the house,” he added sternly.
“Why don’t you call the police while you’re at it?” Larisa sneered.
“I would, if it weren’t the holiday,” Lera interjected. “It’s better if you leave peacefully. Otherwise my friend will be here any minute with her husband — he’s a boxer. He definitely won’t let you through,” she smirked.
“Are you trying to threaten me?” Larisa kept mocking.
“No, I’m not trying — I’m actually threatening you. Leave!” Lera commanded.
Together with Misha, they shut the gate, refusing to let the uninvited guests in. Larisa and Grisha had no choice but to drive back home. On the way, she unleashed a full-blown tirade at Grisha.
“Why couldn’t you shove him?!” she yelled. “What kind of weakling are you?”
They returned to the apartment where they had been living for several years. They shared it with Larisa and Mikhail’s mother — Yevgeniya Lvovna — who hadn’t spoken to her son for nearly five years since he got married.
“Well, now I’ll stop talking to Misha too,” Larisa said, tossing her fur coat into the corner of the room.
“What?” Yevgeniya Lvovna asked, squinting.
“He kicked us out of the dacha. Can you believe it?” Larisa snapped. “Unbelievable! And his wife is even worse! She wanted to call the police like we were some kind of thieves!”
“That’s why I don’t speak to him. Remember when I wanted to move in with them and they objected? Saying, ‘We only have a one-bedroom, not enough space.’ As if we have plenty of space in this three-room with the kids!”
“Oh, don’t even get me started, Mom! That Lera has completely ruined our Misha.”
Meanwhile, the children were tearing the place apart, and Larisa and Yevgeniya Lvovna were happily drinking champagne and watching The Irony of Fate, while Grisha was slaving away in the kitchen.
Back at the village house, Lera and Misha welcomed their guests and began preparing for the New Year’s celebration together. Laughter, joy, and happy smiles filled the air. Lera gently pulled Mikhail aside from the noisy crowd and whispered:
“I need to tell you something.”
She handed him an ultrasound photo.
“Seriously?” Mikhail looked at his wife in surprise. “We’re going to have a baby?”
“Uh-huh,” Lera nodded happily.
Misha hugged her and kissed her.
“That’s the best gift ever!” he said with a smile.
