“Where on earth is my hairdryer? You can’t find anything in this mess! Lev, did you see a little blue box with the hairdryer? And where’s the iron? Now what am I supposed to do? I swear I labeled all the boxes, and now you can’t tell what’s what. Lyova, are you hearing me?”
Zhenya was trying in vain to make sense of the heap of boxes and bags piled up in the middle of the room.
Her husband, of course, couldn’t hear her over the racket from the drill and the power screwdriver. He was busy trying to assemble a wardrobe in the bedroom. They needed somewhere to put their things, and there wasn’t much furniture in the new apartment yet.
“Looks like I’ll have to unpack all the boxes. There’s no getting around it,” Zhenya muttered, eyeing the whole pile with reluctance.
Just then her husband’s phone, lying on the windowsill of a big window overlooking a picturesque view, buzzed and let out a long, insistent trill.
“Oh, that’s all we needed!” Zhenya grumbled, standing in the middle of the boxes with no quick way out. “Lyova, do you hear me? Someone’s calling you. Pick up! I can’t.”
Her husband didn’t react; he hadn’t heard her—or the call. The phone trilled nervously for a while longer and went quiet.
At long last the couple’s dream had come true—they’d managed to buy a new apartment. And not just any apartment, but a place by the sea! They’d moved in literally yesterday, and for now it was complete chaos.
The phone started ringing again, fraying Zhenya’s nerves.
“Who is this that can’t leave us alone?” she thought, trying to free herself from the prison of things surrounding her on all sides. Fighting her way through the irregular ranks of boxes, she made it to the phone.
“Hello! Yes, speaking. And you are? Who? Marina? Marina who? No, I don’t recognize the name.”
Without thinking twice, Zhenya hung up and set the phone to silent. As she kept unpacking, she could hear her husband’s cell buzzing insistently from time to time.
Finally Lev, done with the wardrobe, came out of the bedroom to get a drink.
“Phew, I’m wiped! Who’s been calling me?” he asked, glancing at the screen.
“How should I know? Some Marina.”
As if it had heard its owner’s voice, the phone came to life again and vibrated.
“Yes, hello,” Lev answered.
“Hi! What, are you going to say you don’t recognize me either?” a strange woman asked. “How could you not? Come on, Lyova. Seriously? Got too big for your britches? Buy an apartment at a resort and now you don’t have to say hello to your relatives? Pretend you don’t know them, is that it? You can’t do that, nephew! It’s Marina—Mironova. Your second aunt. Well? Now do you recognize me?”
“Uh… hi, Marina,” the man replied without much enthusiasm. “What made you call out of the blue? Did something happen? If I’m not mistaken, we haven’t talked for, what, fifteen years? Last time was at Grandma Galya’s when we were kids, and that’s it. So no, I didn’t recognize you. Can’t say that’s surprising.”
“Yeah, Lyovka, time flies. Always something going on, no time to see your kin,” she prattled on. “My mom mentioned you two bought a place by the sea. And you’ve already moved in. We’re happy for you, good for you. That’s what it means to ‘work with computers,’ not like us schlepping to work every day—in the cold and the heat. Sitting there all day like we’re chained to the place. But you and your wife can live in Africa and still have the money rolling in.”
Marina laughed into the phone—loudly and unpleasantly. Lev didn’t care for either the call or her laugh.
“Marina, if you just want to chat, we don’t have time. You get it—we just moved, and we’ve got a mountain of things to do. So…”
He was about to end the call, but no such luck.
“I do get it, I’m not stupid. Go ahead and make it cozy, because you’ll have guests soon!”
“Marina, I appreciate your humor and your excitement about our purchase, but this really isn’t a good time for jokes,” Lev said, starting to get nervous.
“I’m not joking! I’m dead serious, Lyovushka. My husband and I are starting our vacation. Olezha and I were trying to decide where to go. Well, that’s settled itself now. We’re coming to you. Not even going to think twice. We’ve already got the tickets. Oleg’s a diesel locomotive engineer, in case you forgot. We get free tickets—anywhere.”
“Marina, that’s… kind of unexpected. We’re not ready for guests. We’re still sitting on boxes and bundles ourselves,” Lev objected.
“Oh, don’t be such a stranger, honestly! A couple of days is enough to sort it out. Don’t worry so much, nephew. No need to meet us with a brass band; we’re not dignitaries. And we won’t be a bother. We haven’t been to the sea in ages, so we’ll just crash at your place at night. That’s all. Expect us. We don’t take no for an answer. On the twentieth, at two in the afternoon!”
The crafty relative hung up without letting the bewildered Lev get a word in.
“What even was that? How is that okay? Do they think we’re suckers they can just treat like that?”
He was stunned. The sheer brazenness!
“Who was that, honey? And why are you so upset?” his wife asked.
“Marina—my second aunt. She just popped up—won’t go away! As soon as she found out we live by the sea now, she surfaced. Informed me that she and her husband are coming to visit.”
“I hope you told them no?” Zhenya asked calmly. “No one comes here without an invitation. Do they not understand that?”
“I did. Didn’t help. They don’t accept refusals—as if they’re inviting us rather than inviting themselves! Weird as a three-kopeck coin! And who even told them about us? Now everybody and their brother will be lining up to come here.”
“Don’t get so worked up. We just won’t open the door, that’s all. There are hotels everywhere. They can go there. When are they supposed to arrive?”
“In three days. The twentieth, I think. The train gets in at two.”
“Well then, what’s the problem? We’ll go somewhere that day. If we’re not home, there’s nothing to discuss.”
Zhenya, who had never dealt with that level of nerve before, didn’t think much of it. Big mistake.
On the day in question, they switched off their phones well ahead of time. They stocked up on food—meat for barbecue, vegetables, greens, fruit—and drove to a distant beach where there were hardly any tourists. They decided to spend the whole day by the sea. They’d been living there for days and still hadn’t seen the water—too many chores. They planned to come home closer to midnight.
Lying on the warm sand after a hearty lunch, Zhenya was relaxed. Her thoughts were calm and serene.
“Just imagine,” she said to her husband, “they’ll show up and we won’t be home. They’ll sit and wait, then naturally head for a hotel. Your relatives won’t have any other choice.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Lev agreed, squinting at the bright southern sun.
But imagine their surprise when, late that evening, they approached their building and found Marina and Oleg stretched out on a bench.
“Where on earth have you been? Great hosts you are! Is this how you meet guests?” Marina shouted when she saw them. “Up you get, Olezhek, enough snoozing. This isn’t a hotel.”
“Persistent, aren’t they! How did they even get the address?” Zhenya whispered to her husband, flustered.
“Same place they heard about our move. From my parents. I’ll have words with them,” Lev whispered back.
Their restless guests were up at the crack of dawn to get a head start on the sea.
“Hey, hosts! Why are we sleeping? It’s morning. Are you going to feed your guests breakfast?” Marina bellowed, barging into the owners’ bedroom without ceremony.
“What? It’s still early!” Lev protested sleepily. “No, we’re still sleeping—go find something yourselves in the kitchen.”
“Nope, that won’t do. Up, up! Come on! No lazing around. Don’t you think it’s improper to sleep in when you have guests in the house?” the pushy aunt kept on.
Marina did manage to roust the sleepy hosts.
Grumbling and yawning, Zhenya went to the kitchen and, half-asleep, started making scrambled eggs.
“Don’t you have anything tastier? You could’ve bought some smoked fish, some seafood for our arrival. You live by the sea now, after all. You’re not exactly prepared for family,” Marina boomed.
After a hearty breakfast, the guests left for the beach and the hosts went back to bed.
As promised, Marina and Oleg showed up again only in the evening. Cheerful and nicely sunburned, they lugged in several huge plastic bottles of grape drink from local craftsmen.
“Listen, this is fantastic! The wine here is so good! And cheap, too! Olezha and I drank it all day and no headache. Just worked up a bit of an appetite is all. Do you have dinner ready—meat, fries, maybe some cutlets?” Marina asked.
“No, no meat. We eat dinner early and keep it light—vegetables, fruit,” Zhenya replied. “And to be honest, we thought you would’ve eaten somewhere. In general, I think things like that need to be agreed on.”
“Wow, news to me! We’re your guests, and guests are supposed to be treated. Never heard of that? Fine, if you’re so slow, we’ll eat what we bought. Olezha, get out the sausage and cheese. We’ll celebrate our arrival. There’s plenty—enough for everyone!”
Like she owned the place, the guest went to work in the kitchen. She took glasses out of the cabinet and filled them with the burgundy liquid they called local wine. Then she sliced thick, generous pieces of sausage, cheese, and a loaf they’d brought.
“Come on, family, don’t be shy. Let’s party!” she called the hosts to the table.
“No, you go ahead,” Lev answered. “We don’t drink that stuff. For one. And two, we’re full—we already had dinner.”
“I don’t get it! What’s this, nephew? We’re treating you! And we need to mark our arrival—otherwise it’s not right: we came and didn’t sit down together. Come on, I’m waiting!” slurred Marina.
“I think we should sit down, or the neighbors will all come running at these shouts,” Zhenya said resignedly.
The hosts sat with the guests for a while, just for form’s sake. Then they went to bed, leaving their tipsy relatives to finish their drink.
The next day was a carbon copy of the previous one—the guests came back late from the beach with bags full of their new favorite wine. Only this time Marina didn’t try to call the hosts to the table she assembled from store-bought hot dogs, a processed cheese, and a can of some kind of preserves.
“Zhen, do you at least have some potatoes? I could boil some,” the energetic guest asked.
“There are a few in the fridge. Go ahead and boil them.”
The new apartment had now turned into a field camp for the tireless relatives, who were vacationing and relaxing to the hilt.
Every morning there was a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink; the revelers couldn’t even be bothered to load them into the dishwasher after their evening feasts. The entire fridge was now crammed with bottles of local wine, and in the entryway and living room beach umbrellas and inflatable mattresses were piled up, blocking the way—purchases the merry vacationers had made right there on the beach.
“We bought them for comfort. We’ll leave them with you till next time. No point hauling it all home! Next summer we’ll come and won’t have to buy a thing,” Marina explained when she caught the owner’s surprised look.
The climax of this absurd story was an event the hosts won’t forget anytime soon.
That evening the guests were very late. The young couple were getting antsy; they wanted to go to bed, but the guests still hadn’t shown. Night had fallen in earnest.
“This is rude—acting like this! We’re not a hotel with 24-hour reception. Why don’t they think about us at all?” Zhenya fumed.
“They’re not thinking about anyone but themselves right now. They’re cutting loose! They came to the sea, so they’re living it up.”
At one in the morning the doorbell rang loudly. The bleary-eyed owner opened the door and was stunned.
Oleg and Marina could barely stand. They were singing at the top of their lungs, echoing down the stairwell. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Next to them, swaying on unsteady feet, was a complete stranger.
“All right, everyone in!” Marina commanded. “Don’t be shy, Gosha, we’re all friends here. This is Lev, my nephew.”
“Hold it a second!” the owner protested. “What do you mean, ‘everyone in’? Who have you brought here? I’ve never seen this man in my life!”
“Oh, stop it, Lyovka. Don’t grumble, why so gloomy? This is Gosha—we met him at the bar. What a guy!” the drunk relative stuck up a thumb. “He’s got nowhere to sleep tonight. Let him stay here with us…”
“G… Gosha,” the stranger hiccuped, offering Lev his hand.
“Knock it off, the show’s over! Strangers—out! This isn’t a flophouse! Or else all of you can clear out!” the owner snapped, his nerves at the breaking point.
“Oh come on, why? We were having so much fun… We had such a great crowd.”
“I won’t repeat myself. Is any of this unclear?” Lev was resolute.
The stranger had to leave. And the drunken guests finally quieted down an hour later and collapsed into bed.
In the morning Marina and Oleg tried to laugh off last night’s little incident. But the hosts were angry and thoroughly annoyed.
“All right, don’t take it so hard—we’re leaving this evening,” the aunt said with a touch of regret. “Vacation’s over. Next time we’ll give you a month’s notice so you can brace yourselves.”
“There won’t be a next time!” Zhenya said loudly.
“What do you mean, there won’t? Are you serious?” Marina was taken aback.
“That’s right. If you want the sea, book a hotel. We’re not planning to host the entire extended family here. We won’t have time to live our own lives,” the hostess went on.
“Lev, what’s with her? Calm your wife down and, as family, say something sensible. What hotels? That’s expensive! And why would we, when we have relatives here?”
“My wife’s right, and I support her. Don’t come again—don’t even plan on it—we won’t let you in. Tell the rest of the family the same! Our apartment is not a hotel and not a thoroughfare. You need to understand that!”
“Would you look at that! Are you serious? What, are you stingy? Did we eat you out of house and home? We paid for our own food and drink. Or did we wear out your new couch? We had a good time, it was fun—but no, you have to ruin everything!”
Marina grumbled under her breath for a long time while she packed their suitcases.
“And don’t forget the mattresses and umbrellas—you’ve filled the place with them, you can’t even walk,” Lev retorted to her complaining.
That evening, after seeing off the pushy, shameless guests, the owners threw themselves a real celebration. And from then on they resolved to be more cautious. Even if uninvited relatives showed up at their door, they wouldn’t let anyone in.
