“You won’t break in half — you’ll help me receive the guests!” the mother-in-law barked at her daughter-in-law. But she picked the wrong target!
“Lilya, you don’t do anything, you’re always at home with the baby,” Anna Leonidovna, her mother-in-law, kept repeating. “Is it really so hard for you, young and energetic as you are, to fulfill my requests? I’m not asking you for anything extraordinary. We’re one family now, and you, forgive me, act like a stranger!”
“I have enough of my own things to do! You can’t just sit still when you have a little child. And you know that perfectly well, yet you constantly ask me for something,” the daughter-in-law bravely replied.
“Oh, stop it, those are just words. You’ll do it — you won’t choke,” the mother-in-law insisted.
“I don’t have time,” the daughter-in-law protested.
“Buy me groceries, I sent you the list by text,” she called early in the morning, ignoring Lilya’s refusals.
“No, I’m taking Nikita to the children’s clinic right now,” Lilya answered irritably.
“Well then! You’ll stop by the store on the way. Buy everything I need. And in the evening Slava will pick it up. It’s all simple, and you’re making everything complicated again,” argued the mother-in-law. “With my cold, the last thing I should do is run around stores!”
“Nothing will happen to you, you can take a walk. It’s even good for you. And it’s completely inconvenient for me. And I’m not going to wander around a supermarket with a small, not-quite-healthy child.”
“Why are you making a problem out of this, Lilya? It’ll take you ten minutes at most,” the mother-in-law pressed on. “And you’re still making a scene.”
In the end, the daughter-in-law always refused, and Anna Leonidovna grew angry and complained to her son about his heartless wife.
“Lilya, Mom asked you to come over today. She needs help — to wash the windows before the holiday. Will you go? I’ll stay with Nikita,” Vyascheslav once surprised his wife.
“Oh, really! And who will wash mine? Your mother? Pushkin? I haven’t even started cleaning our apartment yet — there’s always some problem or other. I don’t have enough on my own plate? Why does your mother keep clinging to me? Let her call a cleaning service. Or wash them herself — she’s not some noble lady! And not a hundred-year-old granny.”
“Come on, Lilya, go, I’m asking you! She’ll get on my nerves for days otherwise,” her husband tried to persuade her.
“No. I said I’m not going,” Lilya remained unbending.
Next time the mother-in-law came up with a new task.
“Lilechka, I have so much clothing in my wardrobe — you know, the built-in one, the huge one. And everything there, by the way, is expensive and branded. In good condition and excellent quality. I don’t wear most of it anymore. Maybe you could come and help me sort it all out. And whatever you like, you can take for yourself,” Anna Leonidovna tried to lure her with cunning.
“Oh please! I don’t wear other people’s clothes, especially old-lady ones. I have plenty of my own.”
“Who are you calling an old lady?” the mother-in-law was immediately offended. “For your information, I’m just over fifty. And I still look very young. Absolutely everyone says so. And I feel thirty… five,” she added after a slight pause. “Well, forty at most. And you behave disrespectfully toward me. I’ve pointed that out to my son more than once…”
“Yeah, of course!” the daughter-in-law sharply cut her off. “Tell me fairy tales! Why be shy — just say you feel eighteen! If that were true, you wouldn’t pester me with your endless whining about help, claiming you feel unwell. I’m not coming. Sort through your rags yourself.”
“Liliya, you are rude and tactless. What kind of upbringing do you have? No respect for the person who gave life to your beloved husband!”
“Why not? I do respect you, I just prefer to speak the truth to people’s faces.”
Any quarrel like this always ended with Anna Leonidovna calling her son and complaining endlessly about her lonely and miserable life.
Lilya’s mother-in-law really was lonely. Several years ago, her husband had left her for a colleague. And contrary to popular belief, not for a young, bold blonde. The man chose, over his legal wife of twenty years, a woman slightly older than himself — quiet, cozy, and utterly plain, in his ex-wife’s opinion.
Back then, she couldn’t grasp what had happened to her husband. Anna Leonidovna even went to his office and met his new partner. She wanted to understand what was so special about a woman a few years older than both her husband and herself.
But the rival was ordinary! A gray, unimpressive mouse who blended into the faceless crowd. Even her hands were poorly cared for. That colleague didn’t have a luxurious manicure that turned fingers into the delicate hands of a fairy.
Stunned and completely defeated, Anna could not understand anything, comparing her polished appearance and well-kept hands to what she saw before her. She couldn’t comprehend why her rival didn’t care that her hands looked like a man’s, with thick uneven brows and hair cut carelessly and badly dyed, long overdue for a visit to a beauty salon.
Anna, who had watched her appearance so zealously all her conscious life, was now in obvious turmoil.
She left the office where her husband worked in a state of utter shock. Something had snapped in her mind; her long-established worldview seemed to collapse. She simply couldn’t understand how it was possible that her husband had chosen that one over her!
Three years after her husband left the family, their son decided to get married. Anna, still not fully recovered from the betrayal of someone so close, was completely unprepared for absolute loneliness. At first, she even tried to dissuade her son from getting married.
“Mom, what’s with you? The decision’s made — Lilia and I love each other. The wedding date is set. How much longer should we postpone it?”
“Well, maybe at least you two could live with me?” she tried to persuade her son.
“Oh, no. That’s unlikely. Lilia will be against it. She told me right away that we would live only separately from our parents,” Slava replied.
And now, after the birth of her grandson, when her son no longer gave her enough attention, she began to pressure him with pity, constantly asking the young family for some kind of help.
She also dearly wanted, as before, to feel like the center of attention, to be the one steering everything. Just like in her previous life, when both her husband and son were always beside her, fulfilling her every wish and whim.
“Slavik, call Lilia for me, I have an urgent matter for her,” the mother phoned, deciding this time to resort to cunning.
“Yes?” came the displeased reply from the daughter-in-law, who was busy with her little son at that moment.
“Lilia, come to me today after Slava gets home from work,” she began in a quiet voice.
“Why?!” the daughter-in-law asked irritably.
“I’m sick. I’m really unwell… My head is spinning, and my blood pressure is through the roof. And my heart… it hurts too.”
“Call a doctor. What do I have to do with it?”
“I did. I did… She prescribed me a whole bunch of medicines. They need to be bought and brought to me,” Anna Leonidovna continued, almost in tears.
“You can order medicine delivery to your home nowadays. Use that service — problem solved.”
“Lilia, why are you so heartless? I’m asking you — please come. I need some human warmth, some company. Stay with me five or ten minutes. I’ll feel better right away. Please?”
“Let your son come,” Lilia didn’t give in.
“Slavik doesn’t know how to give injections. And I’ll need an injection. Come, I’ll be waiting!”
The mother-in-law hung up, and Lilia told her husband everything she thought about his mother—plainly and without holding back…
But in the evening, when Vyacheslav returned from work, she still decided to take a walk to her mother-in-law’s place. All the more so because the weather was wonderful. And she wanted to distract herself from the endless housework and worries.
On the way, she stopped by the pharmacy and bought everything her husband’s mother needed. As usual, the mother-in-law had sent the list to her phone.
But when Lilia walked into the apartment, she at first wanted to protest loudly, to let her emotions out. Then she changed her mind and decided to see how the situation would unfold.
Her mother-in-law was sitting at the table in the living room, surrounded by two of her longtime friends, laughing loudly as they discussed something.
“Oh, Lilechka is here. Good girl! What do you have in the bag? The medicines, did you buy everything from the list? Very good, put them over there on the dresser,” the “sick” mother-in-law chirped cheerfully.
“I see you’re already feeling better? And no injection needed, from the looks of it?” the daughter-in-law asked in surprise.
“Oh, what are you talking about? Of course not! What ‘better’? I just decided to sit a little with my friends, who for once managed to come see me. And the illness—well, it’s not going anywhere. It can be treated tomorrow.”
“What a wonderful philosophy,” Lilia smiled coldly. “Enjoy your evening. I’m leaving.”
“Where?” the mother-in-law shouted loudly. “Where are you going? And who is going to set the table for us? Cut the salads, slice the cheese and sausages? Go on, into the kitchen and get to work. Toast some bread for my favorite sandwiches. Wash and chop the greens. Can’t you see I have guests? I don’t have time, and I’m not feeling well. Don’t just stand there like a post—move!” she ordered in a commanding tone.
“What!?” Lilia gasped in outrage. “Oh, no! That wasn’t part of any agreement! And you can keep your orders — they don’t work on me. I came here only because I believed you were ill. But I see you’re perfectly fine and back in your usual role. So I’m leaving — enjoy your evening. Just don’t drink too much, or your blood pressure will spike again.”
Ignoring the mother-in-law’s indignation, Lilia left, slamming the door loudly.
“Well, Anya, looks like we’ll have to set the table and cook everything ourselves. Your daughter-in-law ditched you? What a storyteller you are! And we actually believed you when you said she’d show up and start serving you on her hind legs. Lilechka put you in your place. And rightly so — don’t show off so much, dear!”
“She’s showing her character again,” Anna Leonidovna grumbled. “Such a heavy, complicated character she has. Well, I’ll talk to her later — I’ll teach her how a daughter-in-law should respect her mother-in-law.”
“Come on, get up, enough pretending to be half-dead. We don’t need that performance. We’ll set everything ourselves. We didn’t come here for nothing, did we?” her friends said cheerfully.
