I was at my mom’s, that’s why I was late. Sorry, my phone died,» said Zhenya.
«Got it. Are you going to eat? Or did you eat at your parents’?» I automatically got up, ready to heat up dinner.
«I ate, don’t worry, Masha. Let’s watch a movie and go to sleep. I’m very tired.»
Zhenya and I got married two years ago. On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé introduced me to his parents. My father-in-law was a real man, who, despite earning insane money owning his auto parts company, never flaunted his wealth. He retained a charming simplicity, and from day one, he respected me as his son’s choice. My mother-in-law, on the other hand, was much more complicated. Marina Gennadievna saw me as a second-class person.
Once, she herself, being a girl from a backwater town, came to the big city, where she met a promising guy and married him. Zhenya’s father, Sergey Ivanovich, had a gift for money. He was like a magnet for rubles, and they obediently flocked to him, filling his accounts with hefty sums, allowing my husband’s family to live lavishly. My mother-in-law, however, made her money from her hobby—she grew exotic flowers for sale in a private greenhouse, which her husband had custom-built next to their spacious two-story house. The money she made was modest compared to what Sergey Ivanovich earned through his business, but she could afford not to work at all.
I, on the other hand, came from a simple family, from a village even. My mom was a village school teacher, my dad an agronomist. We lived modestly, but my parents did everything so that I could study and enroll in a big city. I got into university on a state grant, studied on my own, nobody paid for me. Initially, I lived in a dormitory, but during my last year, I met Zhenya. He was one of those who didn’t look at income but saw the soul in a person. He liked that I was modest and simple, and, as he often liked to repeat, «real.»
My husband worked under his father, involved in his business. By twenty-six, he already owned a rather expensive foreign-brand car, a spacious three-room apartment earned through his labor. He worked hard, and money didn’t fall from the sky for him. His father was a demanding and quite strict boss, but his son wasn’t used to slacking off. Everything was done conscientiously.
We met on the street, in line for ice cream. During the season, cute little vans stood on the streets where smiling sellers filled waffle cones with colorful scoops of cold sweets. Both of us just happened to have some free time, and, after chatting, we went for a walk in the nearby park. The next day, Zhenya invited me to a restaurant. I was very nervous because I had little money. Evening side jobs at a pizzeria brought in a little, enough only for the bare minimum of clothes, food, and to send to my parents. They were already elderly, and I was their only daughter, so no one else could help them but me.
In the past, it was common for a man to pay for a woman, and she wouldn’t even think it could be any different. Now, however, the world has turned upside down, and often we work and pay everywhere ourselves. Seeing the prices in the restaurant, I was speechless – there wasn’t even a salad for less than three thousand. Turning pale rapidly, I raised my frightened eyes to Zhenya:
«Maybe we should go somewhere else? There’s a cafe across the street.»
«What’s the problem? Scared of the prices? I invited you, I’ll pay for everything. Order what you want, please don’t worry!» – my future husband immediately clarified the situation.
I smiled and relaxed, ordered a light salad with lots of greens and fish in some kind of coconut milk and avocado batter. It was incredibly delicious, I forgot about everything in the world, seeing only the shining eyes of the boy opposite me.
Six months later, Zhenya proposed to me. Knowing that my relationship with his mother would be difficult, I took a pause to think.
«What are you afraid of? Why are you hesitating?» Zhenya guessed my anxiety.
«You see, you are very rich. And I… am a girl from the village. Your mom really didn’t like me, and I didn’t want to be the cause of your arguments with her.»
Then the groom laughed:
«You aren’t marrying her, you’re marrying me. My money doesn’t matter, I love you. If you love me too, forget everything and agree.»
And I agreed. After all, I wasn’t marrying him for his wealth. And Zhenya knew this, and so did his father. And my mother-in-law… Well, we’d meet less often. After all, we lived separately, everyone was busy with their own lives.
We had a modest wedding. That was my wish. If I had wanted a lavish celebration, Zhenya would have, it seems, even ordered elephants in lotus garlands from India. But we quietly registered at the registry office, where only Sergey Ivanovich came. Marina Gennadievna did not consider it necessary to honor her only son’s wedding with her presence. As I later learned, she had invited her son before the celebration and cried in front of him, begging him to refuse me. Zhenya did not do so, and I entered his apartment on a summer evening already as the mistress of the house and his lawful wife.
Zhenya, although he bought this apartment five years ago, almost didn’t furnish it. Only the kitchen was completely finished and equipped with modern appliances, and there was a sofa in the bedroom. Basically, there was nothing else. After moving in with my husband, I eagerly set about creating our family nest. I bought fluffy soft carpets, decorative pillows for the sofa, a spacious bed, and a bedroom set. I immediately planned how the nursery would be made, although I hadn’t started on it yet.
The bachelor’s apartment gradually turned into a cozy home, where everywhere you could see a woman’s caring hand. I loved my husband and loved this apartment, where every corner was now arranged to my taste. Zhenya never tired of praising my talent for organizing space.
«Masha, you are a magician! I suspected it, but one thing is to guess, and another is to see for yourself! I didn’t even know that such beauty could be made from my spacious den. I come here and rest. Thank you, my love!»
I bashfully lowered my eyes. My husband’s praise of my modest efforts warmed me inside. I was glad that he was as happy with me as I was with him.
My mother-in-law almost never came over, and if she did visit, it seemed only to jab me deeper.
«Cornflower curtains? Masha, seriously? Is that the fashion in the village?»
«It’s from an interior design magazine, Marina Gennadievna. And I embroidered the cornflowers myself.»
And there were countless such jabs. It all came down to the fact that I had no taste, I did everything wrong, and I was no match for her golden son. The situation was further clouded by the fact that after graduating from university and getting married, I couldn’t find a job. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t required of me, but it was my own desire. Sitting within four walls all day wasn’t for me. I wanted to bring benefit to society, to be usefully occupied. I managed everything at home – cooking, cleaning, and even resting.
All the vacancies that interested me somehow never turned into a permanent stable job for me. I wasn’t looking for a high salary – that would have been too presumptuous, having studied to be a history teacher. I wanted something interesting, something that would bring me joy. Private schools required experience, and at regular ones, either the team, the schedule, or the director didn’t like me for some reason – too young, inexperienced, just married, meaning I would soon go on maternity leave, and so on and on. I searched unsuccessfully for three months, and grew increasingly despondent. And my mother-in-law turned my unemployment into a whole show, where she lamented what a useless daughter-in-law she had.
I got more and more upset, and only my husband and my mother supported me with all their might.
«Listen, maybe you should try something else? You have golden hands. You embroider wonderfully, sew. Maybe go into that field?» Zhenya reasoned one evening when we were having dinner together.
«You know, I’ve been thinking about that myself. I want to sew a few dresses for sale with hand embroidery, create a group-store on social media. I have an acquaintance who does ceramics this way and sells them. You know, there’s no shortage of customers. Maybe I can do it too?» I answered.
«I have no doubt that you can. The suit you made for me, it’s just fire! Dad wants one just like it. Only he’s taller. Can you make one for him too?»
«For Sergey Ivanovich, I’d pluck a star from the sky!» I laughed. «I wanted to make him a coat for his Birthday. But I’ll manage a suit too. Need to take his measurements next time we see each other.»
Sergey Ivanovich didn’t celebrate his Birthday – he was on a business trip in Japan. But when he returned, I presented him with a quality suit in ivory color made of natural crushed linen, fitted to his figure, and a luxurious draped coat. I snagged the fabric from an online store of elite fabrics, paid crazy money, but it was worth it. The coat turned out so chic and shiny. In it, my father-in-law suddenly looked fifteen years younger, and the garment sculpted his figure, a bit burdened by extra weight, as if the man never left the gym. Sergey Ivanovich, touched by the gift, sincerely thanked and wore the new clothes with pleasure. Having finished his gift, I confidently sat down to sew dresses for my future store.
Muslin, dense cotton, linen, and nettle were very popular now for summer. I bought a lot of the latter, all light-colored. Once, when we had no money at all, my mom bought white fabric for sheets, from which she sewed clothes for the whole family. To make them stand out in color, she dyed them herself. I now applied that mom’s experience. Only there was a wide choice of dyes, and I boldly bought a course on dyeing fabrics with natural and synthetic dyes.
Nettle fabric turned out to be ideal for playing with shades. Azure, yellow, and charcoal-black dyes obediently settled on it. I dyed with fabrics too. I especially liked madder, which could be bought in any herbal shop. With this simple herb, I achieved colors from gentle pink to rich purple, worthy of the festive togas of Roman emperors. I spared no expense on embroidery for each dress. Nettle ones were mainly embroidered with beets, carrots, dandelions, and chicory. Linen ones – with various owls, foxes, lace. And muslin ones with olives, cherries, blueberries, and raspberries. It turned out very beautiful. All that was left was to beautifully photograph and add to the products in my already created store.
Zhenya insisted that I do a professional photo shoot in my dresses. It was summer outside, and the photographer and I went to the fields – to the sunflowers, rye, wheat. Against the background of a stormy sky that just spread above us, the photos turned out simply amazing. The natural fabrics of the dresses looked advantageous in natural landscapes, and at home, I hurried to start uploading the album. My husband smiled, watching how enthusiastically I was engaged in my little shop. Meanwhile, he was just reading about targeted advertising to promote my project.
A knock on the door was a complete surprise, and I, puzzled, looked at Zhenya and went to open it. My mother-in-law was standing on the threshold. After greeting her, I let her into the apartment.
«Son, tell your little wife to come over, I need a cleaner,» declared my mother-in-law.
«Mom, did you come to insult Masha?»
«No, I really need a cleaner. Maria is just right for the job. Your wife will be busy and even able to earn some money,» Marina Gennadievna said imperturbably.
«Mom, please leave, I’m asking you, and don’t dare offer such a thing to the mistress of this house again!» Zhenya hissed.
«For heaven’s sake! I wanted to help, but as always, you don’t look back at your mother’s opinion!» proudly declared the mother-in-law and left.
My husband and I exchanged bewildered glances, and I returned to my activity.
Four months later, I had already hired assistants. The idea with the store turned out to be so successful that there was no shortage of orders. Another six months later, we rented our own atelier, where eight women were already sewing. I was expecting our son with Zhenya, happily engaged in embroidery, made a separate line of dresses for women expecting a miracle. The models delicately emphasized the status, were sewn entirely from natural fabrics, dyed and decorated with hand embroidery and lace. Each item was sewn for a specific customer and was unique. I thereby rubbed my mother-in-law’s nose in it. She considered me a worthless empty shell, and now I was a real business lady with a whole staff of subordinates. My husband was very proud of me, my father-in-law advertised me to everyone. I made many items for him, and Sergey Ivanovich wore them with gratitude and joy.
My husband and I lived very happily. Matveyka was born, whom we both adored. A lively, bright-eyed boy walked early, spoke early, and happily played with threads in my atelier, where all my seamstresses spoiled him. Happiness is in very simple things, and you need to see and appreciate it. That’s what I did, every day thanking the higher powers for such a wonderful husband and son.
