Olga was slowly stirring the buckwheat on the stove when the front door slammed with such force that the glass in the cupboards rattled. The September morning had only just begun, yet her husband had already run off somewhere and returned in a state that seemed fueled by raw frustration.
“Wife, are you out of your mind? Why isn’t your card working?! I wanted to give your salary to my mother for groceries!” Igor shouted, storming into the kitchen.
His face was flushed a deep crimson, his eyes flashing with anger. Olga slowly put down the spoon and turned to face him. Igor waved the bank card as if it were a damning piece of evidence.“What salary?” Olga asked calmly, drying her hands with a kitchen towel.
“The one you got yesterday! Mom asked me to buy groceries for the week, and your card is blocked!”Olga nodded as if confirming an obvious fact.“Yes. I withdrew all the money in advance.”
Igor froze in the middle of the kitchen, trying to process what he had just heard. His face twisted even more.
“What do you mean, in advance?! Without my knowledge?! I wanted to give it to my mother! And you ruined everything!”
He started pacing the kitchen, waving his arms as though trying to catch invisible flies. Olga watched the display with growing astonishment. In eight years of marriage, Igor had taken money from her card without permission, but this was the first time he encountered any real obstacle.
“Igor, stop,” Olga said, frowning and tilting her head slightly. “Explain to me why you think my salary should go to your mother?”
“Because we’re family!” Igor shouted, still pacing. “And family helps each other! Especially elderly parents!”
Olga sat down, studying her husband with attentive eyes. Jelena Vasilievna, her mother-in-law, was far from a helpless old woman. At sixty-two, she received a decent pension, owned a one-bedroom apartment downtown, and had a country plot.
Yet she regularly asked for financial help from her son and daughter-in-law.“Elderly?” Olga asked. “Jelena Vasilievna is two years younger than my mother, who is still working and never asks anyone for help.”
“Don’t you dare compare!” Igor snapped. “Mom worked her whole life, raising me alone after the divorce! Now she deserves to rest!”
Olga remembered a recent conversation with a colleague who had complained about a similar situation. At the time, she couldn’t understand how anyone could let relatives take advantage of them. Now she saw the situation from the inside.
“Igor, sit down,” Olga requested, pointing to the chair opposite her. “Let’s talk calmly.”“Talk about what?!” he flailed. “Give the money back to the card immediately!”“I won’t,” Olga said firmly. “And I’m saying this openly for the first time:
I’m done supporting your mother. Let her spend her own money.”Igor froze. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open. In eight years of marriage, Olga had never voiced anything like this aloud.
“What… what did you say?” he rasped.“What I’ve been thinking for a long time. Your mother is a well-off woman. Pension, apartment, country house. Yet every week she asks for money—sometimes for groceries, sometimes for repairs.
We live paycheck to paycheck and can’t save anything.”Olga walked to the window. Autumn leaves swirled in the September wind, a reminder that the cold months were approaching. Winter would soon be here, and she needed to think about warm clothes, heating bills, and household expenses.
“Selfish!” Igor exploded. “Heartless selfish woman! How can you speak about an elderly lady like that?!”
“The lady who, in eight years, never once asked about my needs,” Olga replied without turning. “The one who demands money for groceries and then brags about a new fur coat to her friends.”“You’re lying!”
“Igor, your mother told me about the coat herself,” Olga continued. “Just last month, when we gave money for the kitchen faucet repair.”Her husband went silent, apparently trying to recall details. Olga pressed on.
“Jelena Vasilievna uses our money for her whims while claiming she needs help. It’s manipulation, Igor.”“Don’t you dare!” he shouted, grabbing the phone from the table. “I’m calling her right now and telling her everything!”
Olga turned to watch as Igor dialed. His hands trembled with anger.“Hello, Mom?” Igor began, putting the call on speaker. “Can you believe it? Olga took the money! Took it and hid it from us!” Jelena Vasilievna’s voice sounded sharp and displeased.
“Took it? What money?”“My salary! I wanted to give it to you for groceries, but the card didn’t work!”“Oh, Igor, dear,” her voice immediately softened. “What is Olga thinking? We agreed she would help me!”
Olga stepped closer to hear better. What agreements? When? With whom? No one had ever asked her. “Mom, I don’t know what came over her,” Igor complained. “She says she won’t help you anymore!”
“Is that so!” Jelena Vasilievna’s voice turned icy. “So she wants to show some attitude! Fine, sonny, I’ll come see for myself. Let’s see how brave she is when she has to face me!”
“Come, Mom!” Igor cheered. “Maybe you can teach her how to respect her elders!”
Olga straightened. So now it would be a combined pressure. The mother-in-law would arrive, and together they would try to instruct the daughter-in-law on how to live and spend her own money. “Jelena Vasilievna,” Olga said loudly toward the phone, “you must come. Let’s talk openly.”
