“Your brother and his family are preparing a surprise for you; they’ll be at your place in a couple of hours,” the mother-in-law announced.
Lena was chopping vegetables for soup when her husband’s phone rang. Andrey picked up, and from the tone of his voice she immediately understood — it was his mother calling.
“Yes, Mom. Uh-huh. Okay, okay.”
Lena turned down the stove under the pot and looked back. Andrey had already hung up and was staring at her with a guilty expression. She knew that look. Knew it far too well.
“What happened?” she asked in an even voice.
“Well… um…” Andrey scratched the back of his head. “My brother and his family are preparing a surprise for us; they’ll be at our place in a couple of hours,” he tried to smile.
Lena slowly put the ladle down on the table. Very slowly. Very carefully.
“In two hours.”
“Well, yeah. Mom just found out; they’ve already left. They wanted to surprise us.”
“A surprise,” Lena repeated, her voice completely devoid of enthusiasm. “Andrey, this is the third time this month. The third.”
“Len, why are you making it a big deal… It’s family.”
“Family,” Lena leaned against the kitchen table. “Two weeks ago they stayed with us for the weekend. A week ago they ‘just dropped by for a couple of hours,’ which turned into dinner, and they cleaned out everything we had in the house. And now again.”
“Lena, please,” Andrey stepped closer. “Let’s not make a scene. We just need to set a proper table. You’ve got two hours.”
“I’ve got two hours,” she laughed bitterly. “Andrey, do you have hands? Legs? Can you go to the store? Can you chop something? Or is your only function to pass on instructions to me?”
“Why are you talking like that?” he frowned. “I’m working, you’re at home. It’s natural that…”
“That I cook?” Lena finished for him. “Andrey, I work too. Remotely, yes, but I work. I have a deadline the day after tomorrow. And instead of focusing on it, I’m supposed to drop everything and run around the kitchen because your brother decided to bring us yet another surprise?”
“Lena, that’s my family!”
“And this is my home!” she raised her voice. “My home, my time, my work! Do you understand? I’m not a free cafeteria for your relatives!”
Andrey flushed deep red.
“So now my family are freeloaders? Is that it?”
“Your family is coming for the third time this month,” Lena said slowly, enunciating every word. “The third time. They don’t warn us. They just show up. And I’m supposed to drop everything and cook. Set the table. Entertain the kids.
Then wash a mountain of dishes afterward. And the next day clean up after everyone. Have you ever once thought about how I feel?”
“I’m thinking about how my brother will feel if he finds out that my wife considers him a freeloader!”
“And I’m thinking about what I feel!” Lena grabbed the handbag hanging from the back of the chair. “You know what? Cook yourself. You’ve got two hours. The internet is full of recipes.”
“Lena, what are you… What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving,” she was already putting on her jacket. “To Nastya’s. I don’t want to ruin your family celebration with my presence.”
“Lena!” Andrey stepped toward her, but she was already opening the door. “Lena, wait! What am I supposed to tell them?!”
“Make something up,” she turned back in the doorway. “You’re the creative one, right? Tell them I suddenly got sick. Or that I was abducted by aliens. Or just tell the truth — that I’m tired of being the cook for your relatives.”
The door slammed shut.
Andrey stood in the hallway, stunned. Then he went back to the kitchen. Looked at the half-cooked soup. At the empty fridge—Lena had planned to go to the store after lunch. At the clock — quarter to two.
His brother’s family would be there at four.
“You just left?” Nastya set a cup of tea in front of Lena. “Just got up and left?”
“Got up and left,” Lena wrapped her hands around the hot cup. Her hands were still trembling — from anger, resentment, from everything at once. “Nastya, I just can’t anymore. Do you understand? I can’t.”
“I understand,” Nastya sat down across from her. “Len, does he even realize what he’s doing?”
“No,” Lena shook her head. “For him it’s normal. His mother lived like that her whole life—cooking, hosting guests, serving everyone. And she apparently liked it. Or maybe she just didn’t know things could be different. But I do!”
“What does he say?”
“That it’s his family. That I must. That since I’m at home, naturally I’m the one who cooks.” Lena let out a bitter laugh. “You know, he didn’t even ask if I wanted to. He just ordered me. ‘You have two hours.’ As if I’m some kind of servant!”
“Men,” Nastya sighed. “They still have those patriarchal pictures in their heads. Wife at the stove, husband on the couch.”
“I don’t mind cooking,” Lena took a sip of her tea. “Honestly. I love cooking. But when it’s my choice. When I want to. Not when I’m ordered to because his brother decided to drop by again.”
“And his brother can’t warn you?”
“He can. But why would he? They have me. An always-open, free cafeteria.” Lena put the cup down. “You know what hurts the most? Andrey didn’t even understand why I’m angry. For him it’s not a problem at all. Relatives came — so what? Lena will cook, Lena will clean, Lena will entertain everyone.”
“And how many kids does his brother have?”
“Three. Five, seven, and nine years old.” Lena closed her eyes. “You understand, I love them. Really. They’re good kids. But God, they can tear apart the apartment in thirty minutes. And Andrey sits with his brother, drinking beer and talking football. And I run between the kitchen and the kids, trying to cook and make sure they don’t kill each other.”
“And the sister-in-law?”
“Katya?” Lena opened her eyes. “Katya is lovely. But she’s a guest. She came to relax. She sits in the living room, drinks wine, talks about her problems at work. And I cook. Because it’s my home, so I’m the hostess, so I must.”
Nastya was silent for a while.
“Len, can you imagine what’s happening at your place right now?”
Lena smirked.
“Andrey is panicking. Calling me — I’m not answering. Calling you — you’re not answering. Rummaging through the fridge and realizing it’s empty. Looking at the clock and realizing guests arrive in an hour.”
“And what will he do?”
“I don’t know,” Lena shrugged. “Order pizza, probably. Or boil pelmeni. We have a pack in the freezer.”
“And how will his family react?”
“That,” Lena smiled faintly, “is the interesting question.”
Dmitry, Andrey’s brother, parked his SUV by the entrance exactly at four. His family began unloading — his wife Katya, their three kids, a mountain of bags.
“Uncle Andreeeey!” the oldest, Kirill, yelled and bolted toward the door.
“Quiet, quiet,” Katya scolded him lightly, though she was smiling. She loved surprises.
Andrey opened the door with a strained smile. He had managed to run to the store, buy some ready-made foods, pizza, fruit. He had managed to boil the pelmeni — thankfully, they were easy to cook. Had managed to warm up pizza for the kids. But he looked worn out, with a greasy spot on his T-shirt, and something in the apartment smelled burnt.
“Hey, hey!” Dmitry hugged his brother. “Did the surprise work?”
“Yeah,” Andrey forced out. “Come in.”
The kids burst into the apartment like a small hurricane. Katya walked into the living room and looked around.
“And where’s Lena?”
“Lena…” Andrey hesitated. “Lena wasn’t feeling well. She went to her friend’s.”
“Sick?” Katya frowned. “Something serious?”
“No, no. Just… her head. A migraine. You know she gets those sometimes.”
Dmitry patted his brother on the shoulder.
“It’s fine, men can handle things themselves! Right, Andryukh?”
“Right,” Andrey tried to sound upbeat.
But when they sat down at the table and Katya saw the store-bought pelmeni, the pizza straight from the box, and the supermarket sausage platter, her face elongated.
“This… this is it?”
“Well, I’m alone,” Andrey felt his ears burn. “Didn’t have time for much. You understand.”
“We understand, we understand,” Dmitry said quickly, though his eyes said the opposite.
Dinner was tense. The children ate the pizza and ran off to play. The adults silently chewed their pelmeni. Katya opened her mouth several times, clearly wanting to say something, but then changed her mind. Dima spoke little.
“So when is Lena coming back?” Katya finally asked when the kids got tired and collapsed onto the sofa.
“I don’t know,” Andrey admitted honestly. “She’s not answering her phone.”
“That’s strange,” Katya looked at her husband. “Isn’t it, Dim?”
“Well…” Dmitry shrugged. “If she’s not feeling well…”
“She’s not sick,” Andrey blurted out suddenly. Beer had loosened his tongue. “She just didn’t want to cook. Said she was tired of guests and left.”
Silence fell.
“What do you mean ‘didn’t want to’?” Katya asked slowly.
“Exactly that. She said you come too often, that she’s not obligated to cook. And went to her friend.”
Katya and Dmitry exchanged a look.
“Too often?” Katya’s voice hardened. “Are we bothering her?”
“I don’t know,” Andrey rubbed his face with both hands. “Honestly, I don’t know. She said — third time in a month. Said she was tired.”
“Third time in a month — is that a lot?” Dmitry frowned. “Seriously? We’re family. Family doesn’t need to schedule visits.”
“That’s what I told her!”
“You know, Andrey,” Katya stood up from the table. “Maybe we really should leave. We don’t want to impose.”
“No, no,” Andrey tried to stop her. “Don’t go. Lena is the one who’s wrong, not you.”
“Maybe,” Katya collected the dirty dishes, and every movement radiated hurt. “But it doesn’t feel good. Knowing you’re a burden.”
“Katya, you’re not a burden…”
“Alright,” Dmitry also stood. “Let’s not start a whole scene. We’ll leave in the morning. Katya has a meeting at noon anyway, we planned to head out early.”
They separated into different rooms. Andrey lay awake for a long time, listening to Dmitry and Katya talking quietly — but tensely — behind the wall. He understood they were talking about Lena. He understood they were talking about him. And that made him feel miserable.
In the morning the house emptied quickly and awkwardly. The children were sleepy, Katya deliberately polite and cold, Dmitry quiet. They left at half past seven, and Andrey was left alone in the messy apartment.
He gathered the trash, washed the mountain of dishes, wiped the table. Called Lena — she still didn’t answer. Texted her: “They left. Come home, we need to talk.”
Her reply came ten minutes later: “I’ll be there in an hour.”
Andrey paced around the apartment rehearsing his speech. He was angry. Hurt. Humiliated in front of his brother. But also confused — because for the first time in seven years of marriage Lena had simply walked out. Didn’t argue, didn’t try to negotiate. Just left.
She returned exactly an hour later. She looked calm. Too calm.
“Hi,” she said, taking off her jacket.
“Hi,” Andrey crossed his arms. “Well? Happy now?”
“Happy about what?”
“About giving me a public performance in front of my family. They left this morning. Katya’s upset. Dmitry thinks you don’t respect our family.”
“I don’t respect your family,” Lena repeated evenly. “I see.”
“Lena, what are you doing?” he stepped toward her. “Do you understand that he’s my brother? That they’re my family?”
“I do.”
“And you don’t care, do you? You don’t care that now I have to explain myself to them?”
“Did you explain yourself to me?” Lena raised her eyes to his. “When you told me I had two hours to prepare dinner? When you didn’t even ask if I wanted them to come?”
“I don’t have to ask permission to invite my brother!”
“You didn’t invite him. He decided to come on his own. And you didn’t ask if it was convenient for me. You just presented it as a fact and ordered me to cook.”
“Because you’re my wife!” Andrey raised his voice. “And it’s normal for a wife to cook for guests!”
“It’s normal when a wife cooks because she wants to,” Lena’s voice was quiet but firm. “Not because she’s ordered to. I’m not the household staff in this home, Andrey.”
“No one thinks of you as staff!”
“Really?” she gave a short laugh. “Then why did you never once suggest cooking together? Why didn’t you ever consider greeting the guests yourself? Why was your first thought, ‘Lena will cook’?”
“Because you cook better! Because you’re at home! Because it’s logical, for God’s sake!”
“Logical,” Lena nodded. “So it’s logical that I drop my job? Logical that I spend my whole day? Logical that I should run after the kids while you and your brother drink beer?”
“Lena, you’re exaggerating…”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not exaggerating. I just finally said ‘no’ for the first time in a long time. And you didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t like that you humiliated me in front of my family!”
“And I didn’t like that for years you’ve been humiliating me by treating me like service staff,” Lena walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. “You know, Andrey… maybe we really do need to talk. Really talk.”
“What about?”
“About how we live. About what each of us expects from this marriage.” She lifted her tired eyes to him. “Because I have the feeling that you and I live in different realities.”
“You’re the one living in a different reality,” he sat down across from her. “In a normal family, a wife doesn’t abandon guests and run off to her friend!”
“In a normal family, a husband doesn’t give his wife orders,” Lena countered, “and respects her time and her wishes.”
“You don’t respect my family. And if that’s the case,” Andrey paused, “maybe we should think about divorce.”
Lena was silent for a long time. Then she nodded.
“Maybe.”
“You’re serious?” He hadn’t expected that answer.
“And you?” She met his gaze. “Are you serious, Andrey? Because if to you a wife is someone who cooks on command, who serves your relatives, who isn’t allowed to say ‘no’… then yes. Maybe divorce isn’t such a bad idea.”
“Lena…”
“I’m not a servant,” she stood up. “And I don’t want to be one. I want to be a partner. I want to be asked, not ordered. I want my time and my work to be respected just as much as yours.”
“I do respect your work!”
“Really? Then why did you say yesterday: ‘I’m working, you’re at home’? As if what I do remotely isn’t work. As if I just sit around all day waiting to be told to cook.”
Andrey was silent. Because that was exactly what he thought. He thought that if Lena was home, she was free. That her time wasn’t as valuable as his. That she should be ready at any moment to drop everything and take care of the house, the guests — anything.
“I need to think,” Lena said at last. “About us. About whether I want to live like this. And you, Andrey, need to think too. You really do.”
She went into the bedroom and closed the door. Andrey remained sitting in the living room, staring into emptiness. Yesterday morning he had a family, a familiar and predictable life, everything in its place. And today — suddenly it turned out he didn’t understand anything. That his wife was unhappy. That his brother was offended. That everything had fallen apart over one phone call.
“Your brother and his family are preparing a surprise for you,” he remembered. A surprise. Yes, the surprise had worked splendidly.
Just not the way anyone expected.
