“Son, your aunt is coming today with the whole family, so forget about the sea!” his mother announced.
“Damn it, I told you in advance!” Tonya threw summer dresses into the suitcase as if she were punishing them for everything in the world. “I told you—we have to book early! And you: ‘We’ll make it, Tonka, don’t worry!’”
Semyon silently smoked on the balcony, staring at the gray apartment blocks outside. They had planned this vacation for six months. Crimea, the sea, peace… And now—no sea, but this brazen bunch of relatives!
“Son, your aunt is coming today with the family, so don’t even think about the sea!” his mother declared right from the doorway, not even bothering to greet them properly.
Galina Stepanovna appeared in their apartment as she always did—suddenly and imperiously. Bags in her hands, and on her face that expression Tonya mentally called “I’ve already decided everything for you.”
“Mom, what are you doing?” Semyon crushed his cigarette on the railing. “We have tickets bought, the hotel booked…”
“What am I doing? Aunt Nadya is coming with her grandchildren, they have nowhere to stay. They’re family, after all! And the sea…” she waved a hand, “the sea isn’t going anywhere.”
Tonya felt something inside twist into a tight knot. For eleven months she had put money aside from every paycheck. Counted every coin, denied herself new boots, dinners with friends. All for these two weeks at the sea.
“Galina Stepanovna,” Tonya’s voice was too calm—which was always a bad sign, “did you warn them that we’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Oh, don’t be silly, girl! What sea? The family is getting together!” her mother-in-law was already unpacking groceries on the kitchen table. “We must welcome relatives properly.”
“Properly?” Tonya walked out of the bedroom holding an unfinished-packed swimsuit in her hands. “And is it also proper to ask the owners before moving strangers into their home?”
Galina Stepanovna straightened up, and something dangerous flashed in her eyes:
“Did you forget whose apartment this is? And whose son he is?”
“Mom, enough!” Semyon walked in from the balcony, but his voice lacked the firmness Tonya had hoped for.
And then everything spun like in a bad dream. Aunt Nadya arrived—a plump, loud woman of about fifty—with two adult children and three grandchildren. The apartment instantly turned into a train station.
“Tonechka, darling!” Aunt Nadya hugged her so tightly the crack of Tonya’s spine was probably heard in the next room. “How wonderful you didn’t leave! Otherwise we wouldn’t have seen each other!”
Children ran screaming through the hallway, adults loudly discussed politics in the kitchen, and Tonya stood in the middle of her bedroom staring at the suitcase packed for the sea.
“Tonechka, don’t sulk,” Semyon tried to hug her, but she pulled away. “Come on, it’s just a week…”
“A week?” she turned to him, and for the first time in a long while he saw something cold in her eyes. “And how do you know it’s a week?”
He didn’t know. Nobody did.
Aunt Nadya and her clan settled into their apartment thoroughly. The fridge was emptied at hurricane speed, the TV never stopped, and someone was always splashing in the bathroom.
On the third day, during dinner, Aunt Nadya suddenly said:
“You know what, my dears? Let’s all go to the sea together! What a company we’d be!”
Tonya choked on her borscht.
“What do you mean—together?” she asked after catching her breath.
“Well, you planned it, you have the tickets… and we’ll go with you! The kids need the sea, it’s so good for them!”
“Nadya is right,” Galina Stepanovna nodded. “A family should stay together.”
Semyon sat silently chewing bread. Tonya looked at him and realized—he had already given up. As always, when it came to his mother and relatives.
“And the money for the trip? For accommodation?” Tonya asked quietly.
“Oh, Tonyechka,” Aunt Nadya waved her hand, “we’re family! What are a few pennies… Semyon will help, he’s the man!”
And they went. All of them. Nine people in two rooms Tonya had booked for a romantic vacation for two.
The very first day at the sea turned into a nightmare. The kids screamed for ice cream every thirty minutes. Aunt Nadya and her daughter discussed the personal lives of other beachgoers loudly. And when it was time for lunch…
“Semyon,” Aunt Nadya put a hand on his shoulder, “you’ll treat us at this cute café, won’t you?”
Semyon looked at the prices on the menu, then at Tonya. She sat turned toward the sea, her shoulders tense like strings.
“Of course, Aunt Nadya,” he said.
And in the evening, when the bill for dinner for nine people turned out to be more than their monthly salary, something in Semyon finally snapped.
“Enough!” He stood up so abruptly that the chairs screeched on the tiles. “That’s it!”
Aunt Nadya froze with a glass of wine halfway to her mouth. The children quieted. Even the sea outside the restaurant window seemed to hush.
“Semyon, what’s wrong with you?” Aunt Nadya put on a face of innocent surprise. “We’re having such a good time…”
“Good?” Semyon’s voice was quiet, but Tonya knew—that was the most dangerous tone. “Aunt Nadya, tell me, how much money have you spent in these three days?”
“Oh, darling…” she laughed awkwardly. “We’re your guests…”
“Guests?” Semyon pulled a small notebook from his pocket and began reading: “Breakfast for nine—four thousand. Ice cream and beach drinks—fifteen hundred. Lunch—five and a half. Dinner—seven thousand two hundred. And that’s just today!”
Aunt Nadya’s face went from pink to white, then red.
“Semyon, not in front of the children…” she hissed.
“In front of the children!” he slammed the notebook on the table. “And you show them how to live off someone else’s money! How to shamelessly use people!”
Aunt Nadya’s eldest grandson, a twenty-year-old who hadn’t looked up from his phone all evening, suddenly raised his head:
“Bro, what’s your problem? We’re family…”
“Family?” Semyon turned to him. “Did you ever say ‘thank you’? Ever offer to pay even for yourself?”
“Semyon!” This time it was Aunt Nadya’s daughter, a woman in her thirties with slick hair. “You’re being rude! Mom came to you with kindness, and you…”
“With kindness?” Tonya couldn’t hold back. She stood up next to her husband, her voice so furious that the waiter at the next table turned around. “You came uninvited, ruined our vacation, and now you’re stuffing yourselves at our expense! And this is kindness?…”
“Tonyechka,” Aunt Nadya tried to soften her tone, “we didn’t do it on purpose… We just thought…”
“Thought what?” Tonya leaned over the table. “That Semyon is your personal milk cow? That we’re obligated to support you?”
“How dare you!” Aunt Nadya shot to her feet. “I carried him in my arms! Galina Stepanovna will hear about this!”
“Oh, she’ll hear!” Semyon pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her right now and tell her exactly how much your ‘family warmth’ costs!”
He started dialing, but Aunt Nadya grabbed his hand.
“No! Semyon, please… don’t. We didn’t mean to…”
“Didn’t mean to?” Tonya laughed bitterly. “Did you ‘accidentally’ order lobsters? ‘Accidentally’ demand the most expensive wine on the menu?”
The youngest granddaughter suddenly burst into tears. Then another child chimed in. People at nearby tables were openly staring at the scene.
“That’s it,” Semyon put his credit card on the table. “This is the last time. Tomorrow you’re going home. At your own expense.”
“What are you saying!” shrieked Aunt Nadya’s daughter. “We have vouchers for the whole week!”
“What vouchers?” Tonya shot back acidly. “You’re staying here as our guests, remember?”
“We wanted to bring the children to the sea for their health!” Aunt Nadya played her final card. “The doctor said—they absolutely need the sea!”
“Oh really? The doctor said they should get treated at my expense?” Semyon was signing the check without even looking at her. “Strange doctor.”
When they returned to the room, a full-scale family hurricane broke out.
Aunt Nadya sobbed into the phone, complaining to Galina Stepanovna.
The children ran up and down the hotel hallway, screaming for attention.
Aunt Nadya’s daughter hammered out furious messages in the family group chat.
And Tonya sat on the balcony, looking at the black sea, and—for the first time in a long time—smiled.
“Do you regret it?” Semyon asked, sitting down beside her.
“Regret what?”
“That the vacation is ruined…”
Tonya looked at him—at this forty-year-old man who had finally found the courage to say “no” to his own family.
“You know,” she said, “I think our vacation is just beginning.”
In the morning, Aunt Nadya’s clan packed in angry, offended silence.
Galina Stepanovna called every thirty minutes demanding explanations, but Semyon simply turned off his phone.
“They’ll get home—then we’ll talk,” he said as he helped load their suitcases into the taxi.
The farewell was icy.
Aunt Nadya muttered something about ingratitude,
her daughter refused to shake their hands,
and the grandchildren slammed the car doors for emphasis.
When the taxi disappeared around the corner, Semyon and Tonya were left standing outside the hotel.
Alone.
Finally alone.
“Tonya,” he took her hand, “I…”
“Shh.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “Let’s just go to the beach. We still have four days.”
Four days they had earned.
But the story didn’t end there.
Because Galina Stepanovna was already preparing her counterattack…
The phone rang on the third day of their “new” vacation.
Semyon was sunbathing, Tonya reading under an umbrella, and for the first time in a week they felt like people, not service staff.
“Semyon Viktorovich?” an unfamiliar female voice sounded official. “This is the administration of the Golden Shore Hotel. We have a question for you…”
“Yes, I’m listening,” Semyon frowned.
“You see, a group of people arrived today claiming that you paid for their accommodation. They insist on being checked into your rooms…”
A chill ran down Semyon’s spine.
“What group?”
“Nine people. Led by a woman named Galina Stepanovna. She said you’re her son…”
“Oh no!” Semyon jumped off the lounge chair. “Tonya! Tonya, pack up—now!”
“What happened?” Tonya put down her book.
“My mother is here. With Aunt Nadya. The whole horde!”
They rushed back to the hotel, but it was already too late.
The scene in the lobby belonged in a comedy-drama.
Galina Stepanovna, dressed in her best suit, waving her passport in the face of a terrified receptionist.
Aunt Nadya sobbing theatrically in a chair, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
Children darting between suitcases.
Aunt Nadya’s daughter furiously typing on her phone as if her life depended on it.
“This is outrageous!” screamed Galina Stepanovna. “I am the mother! The mother! And they won’t let me see my own son!”
“Mom, what are you doing?” Semyon approached the counter.
“Oh! Son!” She rushed to hug him. “Finally! And this girl keeps saying the rooms are occupied!”
“They are occupied. By us,” Tonya said dryly.
“Tonyechka, darling!” Aunt Nadya jumped up. “We came to forgive you! We came to make peace!”
“Forgive us?” Semyon was about to explode. “Forgive us for what exactly?”
“Well,” Galina Stepanovna sighed reproachfully, “you behaved so poorly with family…”
“Grandma, where are our rooms?” whined the youngest grandson. “I want the sea!”
“One moment, honey, one moment…” Aunt Nadya stroked his head. “Uncle Sema will check us in…”
“Uncle Sema will check in NO ONE!” Semyon roared. “Are you completely out of your minds?”
At that moment a security guard walked in—a big guy with a serious face.
“Excuse me, I was told about a disturbance…”
“There’s no disturbance!” rattled off Galina Stepanovna. “We’re just a family trying to vacation together!”
“And who will pay for the accommodation?” the receptionist asked.
Everyone looked at Semyon.
He felt like a trapped animal.
“No one!” he said loudly. “Because I didn’t invite these people!”
“How can you say that?” Galina Stepanovna gasped theatrically. “A son didn’t invite his own mother?”
“Mom, we’re on our honeymoon!” Semyon lied without blinking. “We got married again!”
Tonya almost choked.
Aunt Nadya gasped.
The children stared in curiosity.
“What honeymoon?” Galina Stepanovna narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been married for ten years!”
“We got married again!” Semyon continued confidently. “Out of love! We wanted to spend time alone!”
“Is that so!” the administrator beamed. “How romantic! Congratulations to the newlyweds!”
“Thank you,” Tonya quickly played along. “We dreamed of peace and privacy…”
Aunt Nadya looked at them suspiciously, then suddenly clapped her hands:
“Nadya dear! Remember when we remarried your Uncle Vasya too? After that fight with the neighbors…”
“Oh, don’t remind me!” Galina Stepanovna waved her hand. “We didn’t talk for six months after that…”
“Mom, please, not now,” Aunt Nadya’s daughter tugged at her sleeve. “Let’s go look for rooms somewhere else…”
But then something unexpected happened.
Aunt Nadya’s eldest grandson—the one always glued to his phone—decided to impress the female administrator. He swaggered up to the desk, leaned on it, and said in his most seductive tone:
“Hey, beauty, maybe you can find us a spot? I’ll thank you later…”
The girl shot him a disdainful look.
“Young man, don’t try sweet-talking me. We have no available rooms.”
“Oh come on!” he attempted a wink, but it came out horribly crooked. “I’m not some broke loser… I’ve got cash!”
And then he decided to demonstrate his wealth.
He pulled a crumpled thousand-ruble bill from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter.
“Is that enough?”
The administrator glanced at the money, then at him:
“For what? Ice cream?”
“What do you mean ice cream?” the boy was stunned. “It’s a thousand!”
“Young man,” the girl explained patiently, “the cheapest room here costs five thousand per night. Per person.”
The grandson’s face stretched out.
Aunt Nadya turned pale.
Galina Stepanovna began calculating rapidly in her head.
“Five thousand per person?” she repeated weakly. “So for all of us… nine people… per day…”
“Forty-five thousand a day,” the administrator confirmed. “Plus breakfast—one thousand per person. So fifty-four thousand a day total.”
Silence fell over the lobby—so thick they could hear someone turn on a TV in a nearby room.
“And for a week…” whispered Aunt Nadya’s daughter, frantically pulling out her calculator.
“Three hundred seventy-eight thousand,” the administrator said quickly. “Plus taxes…”
Aunt Nadya swayed and grabbed onto a chair.
Galina Stepanovna sat down right on a suitcase.
“Maybe there’s something cheaper?” Aunt Nadya’s daughter asked pitifully. “Some hostel, maybe?”
“The nearest hostel is two hundred kilometers away,” the administrator replied. “And it’s fully booked too. High season.”
The youngest grandson began to whine:
“Grandma, why can’t we stay with Uncle Semyon?”
“Because Uncle Semyon is on his honeymoon!” snapped Galina Stepanovna.
“What’s a honeymoon?” the middle grandson asked.
“It’s when adults want to be alone without kids,” the oldest explained, still traumatized by the room prices.
The children looked at each other—then burst into tears simultaneously.
Chaos erupted in the lobby.
Aunt Nadya paced between suitcases, lamenting the money spent on traveling.
Her daughter called frantically, trying to find any accommodation.
The children demanded ice cream and the sea.
And Galina Stepanovna sat on her suitcase, breathing heavily.
“Mom, do you need some water?” Semyon asked worriedly.
“I’m not your mother anymore!” she glared at him. “You’ve driven your own mother to a heart attack!”
“Galina Stepanovna,” Tonya crouched beside her, “maybe it’s better if you go home? You can rest at the dacha, in peace…”
“What dacha?” Aunt Nadya sobbed. “We sold the dacha to pay for this trip!”
“What?!” Semyon gasped.
“What did you think?!” Galina Stepanovna snapped. “How else were we supposed to travel? We thought you’d support us!”
Tonya and Semyon exchanged looks.
This was turning into full-blown absurdity.
At that moment, a man in an expensive suit approached the counter:
“Excuse me, what’s going on here? My room is right above the lobby and there’s terrible noise…”
“I’m so sorry,” the administrator flustered. “We’ll resolve it right away…”
“You don’t, by any chance, want to rent a cheaper room?” Aunt Nadya’s daughter suddenly asked him. “We’re in a situation…”
The man surveyed the scene—disheveled Galina Stepanovna perched on a suitcase, sobbing Aunt Nadya, screaming children—and quickly took a step back.
“No, no, thank you. Everything’s perfect.”
“Maybe you could let us stay with you?” she persisted. “Just quietly, just overnight…”
“Daughter!” Aunt Nadya hissed. “What are you saying!”
But it was already too late. The security guard was walking toward them with a serious expression.
“That’s it,” Semyon said firmly. “Enough circus. Mom, get a taxi and go to the train station. You too, Aunt Nadya.”
“And money for the tickets?” Aunt Nadya asked pitifully.
Semyon pulled out his wallet and counted a few bills.
“This is enough for tickets. Goodbye.”
“Sema,” Galina Stepanovna rose from the suitcase, “you won’t turn away your own mother?”
“I’m not turning you away. I’m seeing you off,” he said calmly. “With love—but seeing you off.”
Half an hour later, the lobby was empty.
The relatives had gone to the train station—angry, but defeated by cold financial reality.
And Semyon and Tonya returned to the beach.
“You know,” Tonya said, settling onto her lounger, “I finally understand why paid vacations exist.”
“How so?” Semyon asked, applying sunscreen.
“It’s nature’s way of protecting people from their relatives. Better than any fence.”
They laughed, and their laughter drifted over the sea—light and free.
And on the train carrying the uninvited guests home three hours later, Aunt Nadya complained to fellow passengers:
“Can you imagine what people are like nowadays? They won’t even let family stay! And we came to them with such love…”
The fellow passengers nodded sympathetically, unaware that the same “loving” relative had demanded her nephew pay half a million rubles for her vacation.
As for Semyon and Tonya—they spent the rest of their trip just as they had dreamed: together, in peace and quiet.
And when they returned home, the first thing they did was change the locks on the door.
Just in case.
