«Wait a second. You sold the ancestral home, gave all the money to Zhanna, and where exactly were you planning on living now?»
The mother-in-law looked at her son as if he had asked something completely obvious.
«Well, where else, Maxim? With you, of course.»
She scanned the kitchen slowly.
«You have enough room. You don’t have any kids. The second bedroom is just sitting empty, used for storage and boxes. That’s where I’ll settle in.»
Kira didn’t even flinch. She had expected something like this.
«Nina Viktorovna.»
Kira’s voice was calm and steady.
«You gave a large sum of money to your daughter. You left yourself without a place to live. And now you’ve decided to move into my apartment?»
«Maxim, grab these bags before I throw out my back!»
Nina Viktorovna’s loud voice rang out through the entryway, drowning out the sound of the TV.
Kira counted to three in her head. She was standing at the stove, watching the water come to a boil. Her mother-in-law’s weekday visits never boded well. Nina Viktorovna didn’t just drop by; they were always followed by requests, complaints, or yet another story about her problems.
Plastic bags rustled in the hallway.
«Mom, you could’ve at least called ahead,» Maxim’s voice drifted in. «We would’ve picked you up.»
«Why bother? I’m visiting my son, not making an appointment.»
The mother-in-law appeared in the kitchen doorway. As always, she was wearing a silk scarf over a deep maroon sweater. A massive ring glinted on her finger.
«Hello, Kira dear.»
She looked her daughter-in-law up and down.
«Good evening, Nina Viktorovna.»
Kira wiped her hands on a towel. «Come in. Will you be having dinner?»
The mother-in-law let out a heavy sigh, signaling extreme exhaustion.
«I will, dear. I haven’t had a crumb to eat since this morning. Too many chores, too much to worry about.»
She walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down slowly, rubbing her lower back. Maxim carried two heavy grocery bags into the kitchen.
«Mom, why did you buy so much? You’re always complaining that it’s too heavy to carry.»
«I’m doing it for you!» The mother-in-law shot her son a reproachful look. «You two are always busy. You eat poorly. I bought a farm-raised chicken, some cottage cheese…» Her gaze slid to the stove, where Kira was pouring pasta into the water. «…otherwise, it’s just pasta, pasta, pasta. You’ll ruin your stomachs.»
Kira said nothing. She took out three plates. There was no point in arguing about food; this was the standard opening act before the main event.
Maxim gave a guilty smile and sat down across from his mother. «Kira, I’ll pour Mom some tea.»
«I’ve got it.»
Kira placed a floral-patterned teacup in front of her mother-in-law. Nina Viktorovna stared at it with an expression of hurt, as if she’d been slighted.
«Are you not using the china set I gave you for your wedding anymore?» She pressed a hand to her chest. «That was hard to come by, you know. Real porcelain.»
«It’s in a box, Nina Viktorovna,» Kira said, setting down the spoons. «You told us yourself it was for special occasions, so we’re keeping it safe.»
The mother-in-law pursed her lips in annoyance. «Of course. Sitting there gathering dust. Much like how you treat me.»
She began to stir her tea, clinking the spoon loudly against the cup.
«Nina Viktorovna, let’s get straight to the point.» Kira sat at the table, casually laying her phone face-down beside her. «You didn’t drive across the city on a weeknight just for a visit. What happened?»
Maxim tensed. «Kira, why are you like this? Mom just stopped by.»
«Maxim, there’s no need to defend me.»
The mother-in-law dabbed her lips with a napkin. «Your wife always talks to me like I’m being interrogated. I’m already used to being an outsider here.» She paused for effect. «I sold the house.»
A heavy silence fell over the kitchen. Even Maxim stopped eating.
«What house? The one in Nikolayevka?»
«Do I have a dozen houses?» She looked at her son reproachfully. «Yes, that one. The ancestral home. It’s too hard for me to keep up with it anymore. The roof is leaking, the fence is crooked. I sold it a week ago.»
Maxim blinked, bewildered. «Mom, you can’t be serious. Why didn’t you tell us? We could have fixed everything this spring.»
«Fixed it…» The mother-in-law waved a hand dismissively. «By the time I wait for you two, the whole thing would have collapsed. I sold it, and that’s that. Some nice people bought it.»
Kira watched her closely. «And where are you planning to live now? With Zhanna?»
At the mention of her daughter, Nina Viktorovna sighed heavily again. «Zhanna’s place is too cramped.» Her voice softened. «She has two kids; they need the space. And her husband isn’t the easiest man to deal with. He complains at the drop of a hat. It’s hard for me there.»
Maxim frowned. «And the money from the sale? You could have bought an apartment.»
Nina Viktorovna looked away. «I gave the money to Zhanna.» She said it quickly, as if trying to breeze past an unpleasant topic. «They needed it more. They paid off their mortgage. And they have the kids’ education to think about.»
Maxim froze. «Wait… you sold the ancestral home, gave all the money to Zhanna, and now you’re here?»
The mother-in-law looked at her son as if he were incapable of understanding the obvious. «With you, Maxim.» She looked around the kitchen again. «There’s enough room. No kids. The second room is free. I’ll settle in there just fine.»
Kira wasn’t surprised. This was exactly what she had expected.
«Nina Viktorovna.» Kira spoke quietly but firmly. «You voluntarily gave your money to your daughter. You left yourself without a home. And now you’ve decided to move into an apartment that I bought?»
The mother-in-law straightened up, her face changing instantly. «Is that so? So, I don’t even deserve a small corner in my son’s home?»
Kira looked her steadily in the eyes. «No. It means that every adult is responsible for thinking through their own decisions in advance. You helped Zhanna—that was your right. But turning the consequences of that decision into our obligation? That, I’m afraid, is not.»
Maxim sat in silence. And for the first time that evening, Nina Viktorovna realized that her usual script had hit a wall.
«I’m your mother. I raised you. Now it’s your turn to help me.»
She tapped her finger on the table. «And I need residency registration here. Without it, I’ll have trouble with the doctors.»
«You will not have permanent residency here,» Kira replied, calm and firm.
«Kirochka, come on…» The mother-in-law switched tones again. «It’s just a formality.»
«Temporary registration is enough for the doctors.» Kira didn’t even blink. «And your pension goes straight to your card. You mentioned the extra benefit yourself just recently.»
The mother-in-law stumbled, then turned to her son. «Maxim! Are you a man in this house or not?» She raised her voice. «Your wife is throwing your own mother out, and you’re just sitting there!»
Maxim said quietly, «Kira, what’s it to you? Let Mom register. It’s just a piece of paper.»
Kira narrowed her eyes. «A piece of paper?» She shifted her gaze to her mother-in-law. «Maxim, do you remember the washing machine?»
He looked confused. «Which one?»
«Ours. The one Mom asked to borrow ‘for a couple of weeks’ while hers was being repaired.» Kira smiled. «And then it ended up at Zhanna’s dacha.»
Maxim looked away. «That was a long time ago.»
«I’m not bringing up the past. I’m bringing up facts.» Kira leaned forward slightly. «This apartment was mine before we were even married. It had peeling walls and ancient wiring. I did everything myself.»
The mother-in-law threw up her hands. «What do you mean, *yours*? Maxim lives here too!» She looked at her son with pride. «He even laid the bathroom tile.»
Kira chuckled. «He laid three tiles crookedly, then left to go hang out with his friends.»
Maxim stayed silent.
«The professionals had to redo the whole thing,» Kira continued, turning back to the mother-in-law. «So, let’s be honest. You gave your money to Zhanna. You didn’t tell your son. So, let your beloved daughter deal with your housing situation.»
Nina Viktorovna’s face turned blotchy. «So that’s how it is.» All her exhaustion vanished. «No room for a mother here.»
She turned to Maxim. «Go out to the car.»
«Why?»
«I forgot a bag. With the apples.»
Maxim was surprised. «Mom, you brought everything in already.»
«These are homegrown! Go get them.»
He stood up reluctantly and left. As soon as the door closed, the mother-in-law’s expression shifted. She leaned in, her gaze turning icy.
«Listen closely,» she said, her voice low and hard. «I’m going to live here regardless. Maxim listens to me. He’s always listened to me.»
Kira remained silent.
«And if you get in my way, you won’t have any peace.» She smirked. «I’ll have you two divorced in a couple of months. We’ll prove the renovations were a joint effort. We’ll find witnesses. They’ll say Maxim did all the work here.»
Kira calmly turned her phone over. The voice recorder was blinking on the screen.
The mother-in-law froze. «What is that?»
«A recorder.» Kira saved the file. «I know you too well.»
She stood up. «Whenever you come over acting so sweet and miserable, it means you’re up to something.»
The mother-in-law went pale. «That’s not right.»
«I wish you health, too.» Kira pointed to the door. «You’re going to grab your bags now and go to Zhanna’s. Otherwise, Maxim is going to hear this entire conversation.»
Nina Viktorovna stood up in silence. The door closed the exact moment Maxim returned, empty-handed.
Almost six months have passed.
In late October, Maxim came home later than usual and placed a jar of raspberry jam on the table. «From Mom.»
Kira nodded and put the jar away.
Nina Viktorovna ended up living with her sister on the other side of the city. Zhanna never did give her a room—she said the kids needed the space. Maxim visited his mother occasionally and helped around the house, but he never invited her over to Kira’s again.
Kira didn’t ask unnecessary questions.
The calls from her mother-in-law mostly stopped. Now, on holidays, Nina Viktorovna just sends generic greeting cards via messenger—filled with doves, church domes, and wishes for peace.
Kira replies with a short, «Thank you.»
And closes the chat until the next holiday.
