Olga was slowly stirring the buckwheat on the stove when the front door slammed so hard the glass in the display cabinets rattled. The September morning had only just begun, but her husband had already dashed off somewhere and come back in a near-frenzy.
“Wife, have you lost it? Why doesn’t your card work?! I wanted to give your salary to Mom for groceries!” Igor bellowed, bursting into the kitchen.
Her husband’s face flushed a dark crimson, his eyes blazing with fury. Olga set the spoon aside and turned to him. Igor was brandishing a bank card like an indictment.
“Which salary?” Olga asked calmly, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel.
“The one you got yesterday! Mom asked for a week’s worth of groceries, and your card is blocked!”
Olga nodded as if confirming an obvious fact.
“That’s right. I withdrew all the money in advance.”
Igor froze in the middle of the kitchen, digesting what he’d heard. Then his face contorted even more.
“What do you mean—in advance?! Without telling me?! I wanted to give it to Mom for shopping! And you ruined everything!”
He began pacing around the kitchen, waving his arms as if trying to catch invisible flies. Olga watched this performance with growing amazement. In eight years of marriage, Igor had more than once taken money from her card without asking, but this was the first time he’d run into an obstacle.
“Igor, stop,” Olga said, frowning and tilting her head. “Explain to me why you think my salary should go to your mother.”
“Because we’re a family!” her husband shouted, still pacing. “And family helps each other! Especially elderly parents!”
Olga sat down, studying her husband closely. Yelena Vasilievna, her mother-in-law, was far from a helpless old lady. At sixty-two, she received a decent pension, owned a one-bedroom apartment in the center, and had a dacha plot. Yet she regularly asked her son and daughter-in-law for financial help.
“Elderly?” Olga repeated. “Yelena Vasilievna is two years younger than my mother, who still works and doesn’t ask anyone for help.”
“Don’t you dare compare them!” Igor flared. “Mom worked all her life and raised me alone after divorcing my father! She’s earned a rest!”
Olga recalled a recent conversation with a colleague who had complained about a similar situation. Back then, Olga genuinely couldn’t understand how someone could let relatives climb onto their neck. Now the picture was clear from the inside.
“Igor, sit down,” his wife asked, pointing at the chair opposite. “Let’s talk calmly.”
“What is there to talk about?!” He kept flailing his arms. “Put the money back on the card immediately!”
“I won’t,” Olga replied firmly. “And for the first time I’m saying this openly: I’m no longer going to support your mother. Let her spend her own money.”
Igor stopped dead. His mouth fell open, his eyes widened. Apparently, in all their years of marriage, Olga had never voiced such thoughts aloud.
“What… what did you say?” he croaked.
“What I’ve been thinking for a long time. Your mother is a perfectly well-off woman. Pension, apartment, dacha. Yet every week she asks for money—for groceries, for medicine, for repairs. And we live paycheck to paycheck and can’t put anything aside.”
Olga stood and walked to the window. Autumn leaves were swirling in the September wind, a reminder that the cold would soon arrive. Winter lay ahead; she needed to think about warm clothes for herself and her husband, and about utility bills that would skyrocket.
“Selfish!” Igor exploded. “A heartless selfish woman! How can you say that about an elderly woman?!”
“About a woman who in eight years has never once asked about my needs,” Olga countered without turning around. “Who demands money for groceries and then brags to her friends about a new fur coat.”
“You’re lying!”
“Igor, your mother told me about the coat herself. Last month, when we gave her money to fix the kitchen tap.”
Her husband fell silent, apparently pulling up the details in his mind. Olga continued:
“Yelena Vasilievna spends our money on her whims and then tells us she’s in need. That’s manipulation, Igor.”
“Don’t you dare!” he barked, grabbing his phone from the table. “I’m going to call her right now and tell her everything!”
Olga turned, watching as Igor dialed. His hands trembled with anger.
“Hello, Mom?” Igor said, ostentatiously switching on the speaker. “Can you believe it, Olga took out the money! Can you imagine what a witch she is! She withdrew the money and is hiding it from us!”
Yelena Vasilievna’s voice came sharp and displeased:
“What do you mean she withdrew it? What money?”
“Her salary! I wanted to give it to you for groceries, and the card doesn’t work!”
“Igoryok, dear,” her tone instantly turned syrupy. “And what does Olga think she’s doing? We agreed she would help!”
Olga stepped closer to hear better. What agreements? When and with whom? No one had ever asked Olga herself.
“Mom, I don’t know what got into her,” Igor complained. “She says she won’t help you anymore!”
“Oh, that’s how it is!” The mother-in-law’s voice turned ice-cold. “So she decided to show some character! Fine, son, I’ll come over myself. We’ll see how brave she is when she has to look a mother in the eye and flaunt her insolence!”
“Come, Mom!” Igor brightened. “Maybe you can explain to her how to treat her elders!”
Olga straightened to her full height. So now the group pressure would begin. The mother-in-law would arrive, and the two of them would explain to the daughter-in-law how to live and how to spend her own money.
“Yelena Vasilievna,” Olga said loudly toward the phone. “By all means come. We’ll have an honest talk.”
Silence hung on the line. Then the mother-in-law hissed:
“Exactly, Olga. We’ll talk.”
Igor hung up and stared at his wife. Confusion and anger mingled in his eyes.
“Why did you call her here?” he hissed.
“And why did you go complaining to your mother about your wife?” Olga replied evenly. “Did you think I’d be scared?”
“I thought you’d come to your senses! Mom’s right—you’ve gotten brazen!”
Olga went into the bedroom, took a small bag from the closet, and began putting documents into it. Passport, work record book, bank cards, passbook.
“What are you doing?” Igor peered into the bedroom.
“Getting ready for the conversation with your mother,” Olga said, putting the documents into the bag. “I want all the important papers at hand.”
“What for?”
“You’ll see.”
Olga returned to the kitchen and started washing the dishes. Her hands moved automatically while her thoughts sketched out the upcoming conversation. Over eight years of marriage, so much had gone unsaid that it would be enough to write an entire book of grievances.
Yelena Vasilievna didn’t keep them waiting. Half an hour later the doorbell rang insistently. Igor rushed to open it, while Olga stayed in the kitchen, finishing up.
“Hello, son!” came the bracing voice of the mother-in-law. “Where is that wife of yours? Time to put the impudent one in her place!”
Olga dried her hands and stepped into the hallway. Yelena Vasilievna stood there in an expensive coat that clearly cost more than a few thousand rubles. A gold pendant gleamed on her neck, and in her hands was a handbag of genuine leather. Odd— for a woman who regularly asked for money for the bare necessities, she looked more than prosperous.
“Good afternoon, Yelena Vasilievna,” Olga greeted politely.
“Let’s talk, then!” the mother-in-law declared, taking off her coat. “Igoryok told me everything! How dare you refuse help to an elderly woman?!”
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Olga suggested. “It’s more comfortable to talk there.”
The three of them settled at the kitchen table. Yelena Vasilievna sat across from Olga, taking the position of prosecutor. Igor perched to the side, clearly ready to back his mother up.
“So then, my dear,” the mother-in-law began, tapping her finger on the table. “Explain this disgrace to me. Why are you hiding money from your own husband?”
“I’m not hiding it,” Olga folded her hands on the table and looked her straight in the eye. “I’m disposing of my salary at my own discretion.”
“How dare you!” Yelena Vasilievna shot up, slapping her palm on the table. “What right do you have to make decisions without agreeing with your husband?”
“The right of ownership,” Olga replied coolly. “The money was earned by me, at my workplace, by my labor.”
The mother-in-law jumped to her feet, her face reddening with indignation. Igor watched the scene unfold in silence, occasionally nodding at his mother in support.
“Igoryok, do you hear what your wife is doing?” Yelena Vasilievna turned to her son. “She’s gotten completely out of hand!”
“Mom, I told you,” Igor spread his hands. “She’s become unmanageable.”
Olga rose from the table and went to the window. Rain was starting outside; the first drops slid down the glass in fanciful patterns. The September weather reminded her that a long winter was ahead, which meant more spending on heat and warm clothes.
“Yelena Vasilievna,” Olga said without turning, “how much money have you received from us over the last six months?”
“What impertinent questions!” the mother-in-law sniffed.
“I’ll answer myself,” Olga went on. “In March, fifteen thousand for medicine. In April, ten thousand for groceries. In May, twenty thousand to fix the kitchen tap. In June, fifteen thousand for the dacha. In July, ten thousand again for groceries. In August, twenty-five thousand for new windows in your apartment.”
Olga turned and looked at her speechless husband and mother-in-law.
“That’s a total of a hundred and fifteen thousand rubles in six months. That’s more than I spend on myself in a year.”
“So what?” Yelena Vasilievna snapped. “It’s not like I threw it to the wind! It was all for necessities!”
“And the new fur coat is a necessity too?” Olga asked. “Or the gold pendant you’re wearing right now?”
The mother-in-law instinctively covered the jewelry with her hand.
“That’s… a gift! From acquaintances!”
“The exact same one as in the jewelry store for thirty thousand rubles?” Olga clarified. “The same store where you bought a ring in June?”
Yelena Vasilievna’s face went pale. Igor glanced between his mother and his wife, trying to understand what this was about.
“How do you know?” the mother-in-law whispered.
“I work near that store. I saw you through the window on my way to lunch. You were trying on a ring and paying in cash.”
Silence fell. Igor opened his mouth but didn’t say a word. The mother-in-law sank into her chair, realizing she’d been caught.
“So,” Olga said slowly, “the money you asked for to fix the tap went to jewelry?”
“I… I have the right to treat myself!” the mother-in-law tried to justify herself. “I worked my whole life; I’ve earned it!”
“With someone else’s money,” Olga stated. “By deceiving your relatives.”
Igor finally found his voice:
“Mom, is that true? You lied about the repair?”
“Son,” Yelena Vasilievna said ingratiatingly, “I did fix the tap! There was just enough for that and a little treat for myself…”
“A ‘little treat’ for thirty thousand,” Olga said. “That’s my monthly salary after taxes.”
Olga returned to the table and sat across from her mother-in-law.
“Let’s be honest, Yelena Vasilievna. Your pension is thirty thousand rubles. You also rent out the dacha for twenty thousand a month. Plus you get interest from a bank deposit. That’s more than fifty thousand a month in income.”
“How do you know that?” the mother-in-law asked, frightened.
“Igor told me. He bragged about how well-off his mother is.”
Olga turned to her husband:
“Remember last year you said your mom was doing great, had saved up so much? That she had more money than we do?”
Igor nodded, recalling his own words.
“Then explain to me,” Olga addressed them both, “why a woman with a fifty-thousand-ruble income asks for money from a family that lives on thirty-five thousand?”
The mother-in-law lowered her eyes, and Igor frowned, apparently thinking about this for the first time.
“Because she’s greedy,” Olga answered her own question. “Why spend her own money when she can wheedle someone else’s?”
“Don’t you dare talk like that!” Igor snapped. “That’s my mother!”
“She’s a swindler,” Olga corrected calmly. “And you’re her accomplice.”
The day dragged on painfully. After being exposed, Yelena Vasilievna left, muttering something vague about ingratitude and insolence. Igor locked himself in a room and didn’t come out until evening.
Olga used the time to think. Eight years of marriage, eight years of constant requests for financial help, eight years of living hand to mouth for someone else’s whims. Enough.
Around nine in the evening, the doorbell rang again. Igor darted out of the room, clearly expecting someone. Olga stayed in the kitchen, but the voices carried clearly.
“Son, I’ve thought it over!” came Yelena Vasilievna’s voice. “That wife of yours has gone too far! Time to put her in her place!”
The mother-in-law came into the apartment without even greeting anyone and headed straight for the kitchen. Her face showed determination and anger at once.
“Oh, there you are!” she screeched from the doorway. “Give the money back! You’re obliged to help your elders!”
Olga froze, eyes wide at such gall. Even after the afternoon’s exposure, the mother-in-law kept demanding money as if nothing had happened.
“Are you joking, Yelena Vasilievna?” Olga said slowly.
“I am not!” The mother-in-law stepped closer and raised a finger, almost jabbing it in her daughter-in-law’s face. “Say whatever you like, but you’re obliged to hand over the money!”
Igor appeared behind his mother. He stood next to her, nodding in support.
“Oh, what does it cost you?” Igor chimed in. “Mom needs it more! You’ll earn more, and Mom is old!”
Blood rushed to Olga’s face, coloring her cheeks bright red. Her patience had run out.
“One more step toward me and I’m calling the police,” Olga said firmly, looking her mother-in-law straight in the eye.
“What?” Yelena Vasilievna was taken aback but kept flailing her arms. “How dare you threaten me?! I’m not your equal!”
“Exactly,” Olga agreed. “You’re a swindler, and I’m an honest person.”
The mother-in-law snorted and took another step forward, clearly intending to continue her assault. Olga then took out her phone and, in front of both of them, dialed the emergency number.
“Hello, police?” Olga said loudly, not taking her eyes off her mother-in-law. “I’m being harassed in my own apartment. A woman forced her way into my home, is threatening me, and demanding money.”
Igor’s words died in his throat, and Yelena Vasilievna instantly toned it down, realizing the game had gone too far.
“Yes, the apartment is mine,” Olga continued into the receiver. “I’m the only one registered here. I have the documents for the apartment. The intruders are my husband and his mother. Yes, my husband isn’t registered here either; he’s staying temporarily.”
Igor’s face went slack. He had apparently forgotten that the apartment was registered only to Olga, inherited from her grandmother before the marriage.
“You’re coming? Thank you, I’ll wait,” Olga finished and put the phone away.
Yelena Vasilievna and Igor stood in the middle of the kitchen in silence, not knowing how to react.
“Are you insane?” Igor whispered. “Calling the police on my own mother?”
“On an extortionist,” Olga corrected. “Who entered someone else’s apartment and demanded money.”
“Olga dear,” the mother-in-law said ingratiatingly, “maybe let’s not take it to extremes? I didn’t mean anything bad…”
“You did,” Olga cut her off. “Eight years of deceit is most definitely ‘bad.’”
Twenty minutes later the police arrived. Olga explained the situation, showed the title documents for the apartment and proof of income. Yelena Vasilievna tried to justify herself, but the facts spoke for themselves.
“Ma’am,” the senior lieutenant addressed the mother-in-law, “did you in fact demand money?”
“I… asked for help,” she mumbled.
“While having a higher income than the people you asked?” the officer clarified after looking over the documents.
The mother-in-law said nothing.
“Understood,” the lieutenant nodded. “Please leave the apartment voluntarily, or we’ll have to write up a report.”
Yelena Vasilievna hurriedly gathered herself and left, shooting her daughter-in-law a venomous look. Igor stayed, looking bewildered and deflated.
After the police left, the spouses were silent for a long time. At last Igor spoke:
“Why did you do all this?”
“I didn’t ‘do’ anything,” Olga replied. “I just stopped putting up with it.”
“But Mom…”
“Your mother is a swindler. And you knew it perfectly well.”
Igor lowered his head. Apparently, deep down he understood how wrong it all was, but preferred to look the other way.
The next morning, Olga went to the registry office to file for divorce. There was virtually no joint property, and no children either. The process promised to be simple.
Igor tried to talk her out of it, promised to speak with his mother, to convince Yelena Vasilievna not to ask for money anymore. But Olga knew: after eight years of deceit, trust couldn’t be restored.
“We can fix everything!” her husband pleaded. “Start from scratch!”
“You fix a mistake,” Olga said. “What we had was a system. A system of deception and extortion in which you were an active participant.”
A month later, the divorce was finalized. Igor moved in with his mother, and Olga stayed in her apartment. At first, the quiet felt strange, but gradually she got used to her new life.
The money that had once gone to support Yelena Vasilievna, Olga spent on renovating the apartment and buying new furniture. For the first time in years, she could afford good groceries and quality clothes.
Igor called several times, trying to patch things up. But Olga was adamant. Life without constant demands for money turned out to be much calmer and happier.
Yelena Vasilievna no longer showed up. Apparently, she realized that the free source of income had dried up forever. She had to learn to live on her own means—which wasn’t so difficult, given an income of fifty thousand rubles.
Olga often remembered that September day when Igor couldn’t withdraw money from the card. If not for that accident, the deception could have gone on for years. Now she thanked fate that everything came to light while it wasn’t too late to start a new life.
