When you grow up, you’ll be my support,’ the mother always said about her elder daughter, Polina.
But Oleg, the younger son, found himself in a somewhat different situation. Although he was her son, he always played the second fiddle in the family, as if he were sitting on the ‘bench of substitutes.’ Their apartment was three-roomed, but as long as Oleg could remember, he had always lived in the living room—a sort of passage room. The second room was reserved for his mother, and the third was occupied by his sister.
‘So, daughter, what are your plans for today?’ Lyudmila Nikolaevna asked every morning with her customary care as she set the table.
Polina, sticking to her usual manner, would either shrug or start telling a long story that hardly differed from real life, but in her telling it always sounded like marvelous adventures with unexpected twists.
However, the elder sister wasn’t all that bad: when she went away for the summer or when Oleg was ill, she allowed him to live in her room. But now, having finished college, Oleg had started working and developed a desire to leave the family home. His mother took this in her own way.
‘So you’ve got some money now?’ she asked one evening as they sat comfortably at the table while the evening silence settled outside the window.
‘Yes, I have a little,’ Oleg answered sheepishly. After all, what was the point in fibbing? He was working, and real money had indeed come in.
‘Good,’ Lyudmila Nikolaevna summarized. Her voice, as calm as ever, reminded one of a confident start to something important.
She didn’t immediately demand financial help from her son, but like a skilled psychologist, she cast her line: she inquired where he worked, what bonuses he received, what his colleagues were doing. Only then did she ask about the size of his salary.
Oleg wasn’t against helping his mother, but the problem was that almost all the money he gave her went to Polina. And she was three years older than him and could quite well take care of herself.
‘Polina needs a down jacket,’ his mother said with complete seriousness, and there was a hint of care in her voice. Oleg involuntarily calculated what he would have to forgo to gather the required sum.
A month later, Lyudmila Nikolaevna could again approach him and, without any hint, openly declare that his sister needed new shoes, and then trousers or a dress, and it seemed that this list would never end.
Several years passed.
‘Have you decided to get married?’ Lyudmila Nikolaevna asked him, looking at her son with puzzlement.
For about six years, Oleg had been dating Alisa: they had studied together and then went to work, albeit in different organizations. But they hadn’t lost their connection.
‘Yes, Mom,’ he replied, trying to sound confident.
She looked displeased at Oleg, snorted, and probably spent about five minutes just going about her own business. Then she approached him and declared:
‘I’m not giving you any money.’
This came as a surprise to Oleg because his fiancée had already said that her parents would contribute money for the wedding.
‘Not at all?’ he asked, disheartened by her answer.
‘Not at all,’ his mother replied coldly. ‘It seems you’ve forgotten that you have a sister.’
‘Mom, she’s an adult,’ Oleg reminded her just in case.
‘She’s a girl, and girls always have much more expenses than boys,’ Lyudmila Nikolaevna said, and then fell silent for a while. It seemed to Oleg that she had even forgotten about him, and only after a couple of minutes did she add, ‘You’re an adult, if you’ve decided to start a family, then solve this problem yourself.’
Well, what do you know, but Oleg had not expected that from his mother. In the end, he didn’t even get to mention a figure, perhaps that’s why it stung so much.
He returned to his apartment, which he rented with Alisa; she greeted him with a kiss and then led him to the kitchen for a snack. The whole evening they dreamed about what the wedding would be like, but Oleg kept coming back to the thought: where will the money come from? The only solution he reached was to go to the bank.
A couple of months later, the wedding took place. Alisa was on cloud nine with happiness, and Oleg no longer worried about money: nothing was wrong, he would earn it, he thought. His mother, ever her usual self, after the banquet declared that it could have been better, and immediately began fantasizing about what her daughter’s wedding would be like.
Already the week after they had registered their marriage, Oleg went to the bank to ask for money for a mortgage. They were lucky: the “Mortgage for Young Families” law had just come into effect, and thanks to that, within a few days they were approved for the home loan. After consulting with his wife, he decided to buy a two-room apartment immediately: sooner or later they would have a child, and they wouldn’t survive in a studio.
‘Don’t worry,’ Alisa whispered to him as she embraced him. ‘My mom will help a bit. My dad promised, and grandma will chip in.’
Oleg was so grateful to his wife, his mother-in-law, his brother-in-law, and even various aunts and grandmas: someone gave five thousand, someone twenty thousand, and the amount slowly began to accumulate until they managed to make the down payment.
‘Look,’ said Alisa, stroking her protruding belly.
‘Wow…’ Oleg replied in admiration, reaching out to touch her with his palm.
They had already thought of names, just in case: one for a boy and one for a girl. The renovation in the bedroom had long been completed, and now the head of the household was thinking about the children’s room.
A few times, Polina visited their new apartment, but usually it happened when Oleg was at work. The sister-in-law would wander through the rooms, admiring the curtains, laminate, sofa; in short, she liked everything. However, Lyudmila Nikolaevna was not pleased with the apartment: she didn’t like that the windows faced the sunny side, that the yard was small, and that the elevator worked intermittently.
‘Don’t mind them,’ Oleg reassured his wife. ‘We’re not living with them, and that suited Alisa just fine.’
A month later, and suddenly in the evening the doorbell rang.
Alisa opened the door and, surprised, looked at her mother-in-law.
‘Hello, Lidiya Nikolaevna,’ she said, stepping aside to let her in.
‘Hello, dear!’ replied the mother-in-law as she stepped inside.
‘Your mom’s there. Oleg!’ cried his wife as she entered the room.
The head of the house came out and greeted his mother:
‘Hello.’
‘I have an important word to say to you,’ declared Lidiya Nikolaevna, looking at her brother-in-law, who was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea.
‘Let’s go,’ Alisa waved to her brother, and he followed her into the children’s room.
After her daughter-in-law had closed the door, the mother-in-law turned to her son:
‘You must give me money.’
‘Damn it!’ Oleg cursed to himself; he had long thought that his mother had come for a reason like this.
‘For what?’ he asked as calmly as possible.
‘Your sister is getting married soon.’
‘I wish her happiness,’ Oleg replied indifferently.
‘Are you deaf?’ Lidiya Nikolaevna exclaimed in indignation. ‘She’s getting married!’
‘I got it! Wishing her happiness,’ he repeated.
The woman pursed her lips, then, slapping the table with her hand, declared, ‘You must give money!’
‘From what right should I give money?’
‘Because…’ she hesitated for a second, and then continued, ‘Polina is getting married, and that means expenses!’
‘Ha!’ Oleg said. ‘How curious!’
Lidiya Nikolaevna looked at her son in surprise, tilted her head, and then, taking a half-finished cup of tea from her brother-in-law, took a sip.
‘And didn’t you give me money for your wedding, Mom?’
‘You’re a man!’
‘Or maybe you gave me money for my studies?’
‘You’re a man!’ Lidiya Nikolaevna repeated for the second time.
‘Or perhaps you gave money for the apartment?’
‘Enough!’ his mother snapped. ‘You must give Polina money for her wedding!’
‘I have expenses right now!’ protested Oleg. ‘Alisa is about to have the baby, we’re setting up the children’s room, we have to buy a lot of things, so I can’t lend money.’
‘What debt are you talking about?’ His mother’s tone was laced with a hint of disdain.
‘For free?’ Oleg asked inquisitively.
The woman nodded her head:
‘No,’ she replied shortly. ‘I won’t give any money!’
For probably another fifteen minutes, Lidiya Nikolaevna tried one way or another to get money from him, but the head of the house stood his ground.
Several times, the wife came out of the children’s room. She heard the conversation, stopped, listened, and then, letting out a heavy sigh, went either to the bedroom or back to the children’s room. Having achieved nothing, Lidiya Nikolaevna clearly became angry because she didn’t even say goodbye to the lady of the house; she got dressed and, as she left, slammed the door.
‘You did the right thing,’ Alisa supported him, stroking her husband’s chest. She knew that Oleg loved his mother, but didn’t like his sister much. However, their attitudes towards him were, as she felt, rather transactional.
‘Yes, indeed,’ Oleg replied dejectedly.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, taking his hand and resting it on her belly. Immediately, her husband smiled: he could feel their daughter kicking inside her.
Polina, upon learning that her brother had not given any money, was offended. And the mother was so angry that she didn’t even mention the registration date for her daughter’s wedding. It was only a few weeks later that Oleg learned that Polina was now married.
Later that evening, the doorbell rang again. As usual, Alisa opened the door and, upon seeing her mother-in-law, greeted her and went to inform her husband that his mother had arrived. The woman rolled her suitcase into the hallway, took off her shoes, and then Oleg approached her.
‘Hello, Mom! What brings you here?’ he asked politely.
He no longer felt the tenderness he once had in childhood. Yes, he understood that she was his mother and that he should care for her, but in recent years she had become cold, calculating, and sometimes he felt she was almost a stranger.
‘I’m going to live with you,’ declared Lidiya Nikolaevna, taking her suitcase and wheeling it into the children’s room.
‘Stop!’ Oleg commanded sharply. ‘What do you mean by “live with us”?’
‘You have a two-room apartment, there’s a bedroom, and here…’ She opened the door to the children’s room, ‘I will live.’
‘What about your own apartment?’ the head of the house asked.
‘Weren’t you invited to the wedding?’
‘Was I even invited?’ Oleg asked furiously.
‘My son-in-law is going to live in my apartment, and along with him—the sister-in-law,’ Lidiya Nikolaevna proclaimed proudly.
Oleg snorted.
‘What’s so funny?’ Lidiya Nikolaevna retorted.
‘So you decided to come here, fully aware that Alisa is about to have a baby, and take my daughter’s room?’
‘Don’t worry, you have another room,’ she answered unashamedly.
Oleg was boiling with anger: he was ready at that moment to grab his mother’s suitcase and toss it onto the landing. But then his wife approached, touched his hand, signaling that there was no point in causing a scene that evening.
‘Until morning,’ Oleg declared loudly and, without even offering his mother some tea, went to the bedroom.
‘Ungrateful!’ Lidiya Nikolaevna shouted.
‘I’ve been serving you all along,’ Oleg muttered bitterly, but Alisa patted his hand again, letting him know not to get angry.
The next morning, Lidiya Nikolaevna woke up and went to the kitchen. Oleg had long since washed up. He waited until his mother deigned to come out of the children’s room.
‘Get ready!’ he ordered her, and, entering the room, quickly packed her things into a suitcase. Then he went to the exit.
His mother screamed for a long time, cursing either her daughter-in-law or her son, inventing new punishments that would befall them if he kicked his mother out. But Oleg wouldn’t listen. He decided: if my mother doesn’t want to come with me, then she’ll come on foot.
Within half an hour, he approached his mother’s apartment door, knocked, and when Polina opened it, without even greeting her, he entered the corridor and placed his suitcase there.
‘Listen to me!’ he said loudly. ‘If you kick Mom out, I’ll file a police report!’
‘You scoundrel!’ Polina muttered.
‘And if you keep nagging, I’ll sell my share of this apartment!’ Oleg responded sternly.
A man entered the corridor. His brother-in-law immediately guessed that it was his son-in-law.
‘And you, don’t speak up!’ Oleg continued to shout, addressing his words to Stepan.
But the man quickly realized that it was better to keep quiet, or things would get worse.
Returning home, Oleg learned from his wife that his mother had spent half an hour reprimanding her daughter-in-law, and eventually left.
‘Don’t open the door for her anymore,’ he asked Alisa.
She smiled tiredly and hugged her husband.
‘How are you?’ Oleg asked as he embraced his wife.
‘I’m in pain. It’s almost time,’ she said.
That morning, her contractions began, an ambulance was called, and Alisa was taken to the maternity hospital.
Late that night, Irina Vladimirovna, his beloved mother-in-law, called him to say that Oleg had become a father. Half an hour later, with a bottle of champagne in hand, his brother-in-law ran to his place. Boris was a couple of years older than him; for a minute he shook his hand, hugged him, and then, opening the champagne, they joyfully started to drink it.
And three days later, Oleg, with a big bouquet of flowers, went to the maternity hospital. The bright hues of spring flowers contrasted with the gray walls of the hospital, filling the space with joy and freshness. In the corridor, he saw Irina Vladimirovna, Boris, his brother-in-law, and Nina—the friend of his wife along with her fiancé, Viktor. The atmosphere was filled with happy smiles and excited chatter about the newborn.
Oleg was full of happiness. He took a picture of his daughter and immediately sent it to his mother, writing that this was her granddaughter. However, no response followed. Neither Lidiya Nikolaevna, nor Polina, nor the son-in-law, no one congratulated him. His sincere desire to share his joy was met with no support from his relatives.
‘Don’t worry,’ Alisa said, holding their little daughter close, smiling tenderly at her husband. ‘We’re together, and that’s enough.’
Meanwhile, Irina Vladimirovna was overflowing with happiness; her face glowed with joy: now she had a granddaughter! Brother-in-law Boris carried the niece in his arms as if she were his own daughter. His laughter and joy were infectious. That evening, Alisa received congratulations from her relatives, feeling the warmth and support.
Oleg felt hurt by his mother and sister. But now he didn’t care at all whether they were angry or not. He had his wife, his beloved wife, and a beloved daughter. Family disputes were set aside. And he also had his dear mother-in-law and a cool brother-in-law. Life went on, and it was so full of light that even the displeasure of his relatives seemed insignificant.
