The Crocodile Bag
Saturday turned out quiet. Outside the window, a fine drizzle ran down the glass in uneven trails, and inside the apartment, the air smelled of freshly brewed tea and that special Saturday silence when you can finally relax after a hard-working week. Nika settled into the old armchair—the very one they had inherited from her grandmother, with a worn seat and faded armrests—and hugged her favorite mug. The ceramic pleasantly warmed her palms.
Here it is, happiness, she thought, inhaling the aroma of tea. No one extra, no talks about work, money, or that “it’s about time”… Just her, hot tea, and a new series on the tablet.
In recent months, these quiet hours had become her salvation. Roma, her husband, had been out of work for three months now, and the home had turned into a battlefield of unspoken grievances. He spent whole days at the computer—sometimes playing shooters, sometimes watching football, sometimes supposedly looking for jobs, although most of the time, the screen showed websites nothing to do with employment.
“Darling!” Roma’s voice exploded in the silence like a firecracker. “You won’t believe it! Mom picked her own anniversary gift!”
He burst into the room, glowing with delight like a schoolboy who had just gotten an A. Nika slowly tore her eyes from the screen and looked at her husband. Something about his tone made her uneasy.
“A crocodile leather bag!” Roma continued, not noticing her apprehension. “She dreamed about it for so long!”
Nika carefully set the mug on the table and squinted:
“A crocodile leather bag? Did she decide on her own or did someone suggest it to her? And by the way, didn’t she think that nature defenders would be outraged?”
Her sarcasm passed right by Roma, like talking to a deaf person.
“That’s my mom! She deserved it!”
“Deserved?” Nika felt something tighten inside. “Come on, tell me, what exactly did she do to deserve that? I don’t deny she raised you. But I’m not on that list—I have my own parents. And how much did that gift cost?”
Roma coughed awkwardly and looked away:
“Oh, it’s nothing really… About five of your salaries.”
Nika felt the ground slip beneath her feet.
“Five of my salaries?” she repeated, pulling a face.
“Well, yes, it’s Nile crocodile leather, not some kind of faux leather,” Roma explained as if nothing was wrong.
“Then why are you telling me this? I’m not interested at all.”
Roma shifted uneasily and looked away completely:
“Well, I… took out a loan for the bag.”
“A loan?” Nika’s voice turned dangerously calm.
“Yes. Huge thanks to my sister Lenka—she helped me. You know she works at the bank, and she arranged it all so quickly…”
“And whose name is the loan under?”
Nika was starting to realize something terrible.
“Well, whose else… yours, of course. I just took your documents…”
Nika silently stood up and slowly approached her husband. For some reason, she suddenly felt like killing him. Or at least hitting him with something heavy.
“So, Roma, you’ve been unemployed for three months, decided to buy your mom a gift, but I have to pay for it?”
Roma involuntarily took a step back, realizing the situation was heating up:
“Nika, well, it just happened… You’re the only one working in the family…”
“I’m working! And instead of looking for a job, instead of feeding the family like normal husbands do, you sit at home like a schoolboy on vacation, thinking I don’t have enough problems without your loan!”
“Nika, don’t get worked up! It’s just a loan, nothing terrible…”
At that moment, the mother-in-law, Nadezhda Ivanovna, entered the room on one of her usual visits. She came, as always, “to visit the children,” but in reality always brought a heap of complaints and remarks.
“What’s all the noise about?” she asked, entering with the air of the mistress of the house.
“Oh, nothing, everything’s fine, mom. Just Nika is a little upset about the loan,” Roma complained.
“Well, why get upset?” the mother-in-law sat down in the armchair, crossing her arms. “It’s a family matter, and it’s your duty to each other.”
“What do you mean? Explain, please,” Nika asked.
“Your duty is to pick expensive gifts for yourself, and mine is to pay for them?”
“What’s wrong with that? You work, and your salary is good,” the mother-in-law said calmly.
“I understand you perfectly. Great. And what about Roma? What does he do?”
“Roma is my son and, by the way, your husband. And you must support him.”
“Husband?” Nika laughed. “You call that a husband? A man who takes out a loan in his wife’s name because he can’t and doesn’t want to do anything himself? He’s freeloading behind my back like a parasite!”
“Nika!” Roma tried to object. “But that’s not nice! Why are you humiliating me? We’re family after all!”
“Well then,” Nika said, pursing her lips, “I’ll handle it myself tomorrow. And believe me, everything will be fine.”
She smiled strangely, as if to herself, and there was something in that smile that made Roma uneasy. But in fact, Nika already knew how to fix this situation.
“Good girl, daughter, good girl!” Nadezhda Ivanovna nodded approvingly.
Nika spent the whole next day working and simultaneously handling her affairs. She made several calls in response to internet ads and arranged a meeting with one of the advertisers for the evening.
When she returned home in the evening, she greeted her husband with the sweetest smile:
“Roma! I have news for you today!”
“Oh! What is it?” he sat down on the couch, completely unsuspecting.
“You know, I paid off the loan for the crocodile leather bag.”
“Really? Seriously?” Roma jumped up. “I knew you were the best! How did you do it? Where did you find the money?”
“Simple. I sold your car.”
Roma froze as if hit with a hammer:
“You… you what? How can you sell the car?”
“I said: I sold your car. Quickly and cheaply. Got just enough to pay off that miserable loan.”
“Are you crazy?! What am I supposed to drive now?”
Nika smiled innocently:
“You’ll ride on the crocodile bag. You know, I read on the internet today that some bags are made from the skin located on… delicate parts of crocodiles, and when you stroke them, they turn into a suitcase. That bag you gave your mom—could it be one of those?”
Nika wanted to laugh. Roma turned red:
“You couldn’t have done that! Tell me it’s a joke! That was my car! And selling it for pennies is… that’s just not right!”
“Well, now you’re without a car, and I’m debt-free. Fair enough. And your mom has her bag. Great deal, don’t you think?”
Nadezhda Ivanovna rushed into the room, attracted by her son’s shouts:
“What’s going on now?”
“Well, mom, imagine: Nika sold my car! This is a tragedy for me!” Roma shouted.
“So what? She did the right thing,” Nika shrugged. “After all, the loan is a family matter, isn’t it?”
“That’s wrong! You had no right—it’s his property!” The mother-in-law put her hands on her hips. “Now without a car… have you thought about that?”
“Did you ask me when you bought that bag? Or took out a loan in my name?” Nika raised her head. “Now I’m counting everything honestly.”
“This is outrageous! Look at how independent she’s become!” Nadezhda Ivanovna shouted, staring at her daughter-in-law as if she’d stolen something.
“Outrageous is that both of you decided I’m your personal cash cow and can spend my money without my consent,” Nika retorted.
Roma tried to intervene:
“Nika, think! Think! We’re family, we’re together, we’re one!”
“Family, you say? Then here: the most useless member of the family packs his things and goes to live with mom. Let her feed you and pay for the internet. And I’ll finally live for myself a little.”
Nika sat down on the couch and demonstratively took the tablet in her hands, making it clear the conversation was over. After a few seconds, she added with satisfaction:
“By the way, Nadezhda Ivanovna, you take your crocodile bag and try stroking it gently.”
A couple of days later, Roma, tired of the constant simmering quarrel, finally left to live with his mother. Nadezhda Ivanovna did not hide her indignation over this. However, Nika simply ignored her.
For the first time in a long time, she felt light. And now she knew for sure: they understood—it’s better not to mess with her.
Outside, the rain still drizzled, but now that Saturday silence truly belonged to her.
