“Arina, bake a cabbage pie for dinner tomorrow,” Lyudmila Vasilievna said, entering the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. “I haven’t had a proper pastry in a long time; you’re always cooking some strange dishes.” Arina turned away from her stove, where she was frying cutlets for dinner. Her mother-in-law sat with her customary disapproving frown, adjusting her familiar burgundy sweater. “I’m allergic to cabbage, Lyudmila Vasilievna,” Arina said quietly while flipping a cutlet. “I’m not going to make it.”
“What do you mean you’re not going to?” The mother-in-law’s voice became sharper. “I asked you, and you turned me down? Who do you think you are to speak back to me? In my day, daughters-in-law revered their elders!” “This isn’t about respect,” Arina explained, shifting the pan to another burner. “If I prepare cabbage, I’ll develop an allergic reaction. “Make it yourself if you really want it.”
“Make it myself?” Lyudmila Vasilievna jumped from her seat. “I’m not your servant! You are the lady of the house, so cook whatever I say! And your allergy is only an excuse. You’re too lazy to work with dough!” “Lyudmila Vasilievna, what does laziness have to do with this?” Arina turned to face her mother-in-law. “Every day, I cook, clean, and do laundry. But I will not bake a cabbage pie since I am physically incapable of doing so!”
“Can’t or won’t?” The mother-in-law approached, narrowing her eyes. “Do you think you can boss me around just because my son married you?” We’ll see who’s truly in command here!” Mikhail had arrived home, and his keys jingled in the hallway. Lyudmila Vasilievna’s face fell into a state of distress. “Misha, son,” she hurried up to him. “I’m glad you’re here. Your wife has become absolutely cheeky! I requested her to bake a pie, and she was unpleasant and refused.”
Mikhail pulled off his jacket and gave his wife a tired look; she stood by the stove, anxious. “Arina, what’s going on?” He questioned as he hung his jacket in the closet. “Why are you refusing your mother?” “I’m allergic to cabbage, Misha,” Arina explained quietly. “I already explained it to Lyudmila Vasilievna.” “Allergy? “What allergies?” Mikhail waved his hand. “Don’t worry, Mom. Arina will bake the pie tomorrow. Okay, dear?” Arina gazed solemnly at her husband, then at her mother-in-law, who was beaming triumphantly. Her heart constricted with pain.
“No, I won’t bake it,” she stated firmly, removing her apron and walking to the door. “You can have dinner yourselves.” Arina entered the bedroom and locked the door behind her. Mikhail and his mother were eating dinner quietly behind the wall, talking mundane topics. She laid face down on the pillow, tears running down her cheeks.
Behind the wall, a constant murmur of voices could be heard: Mikhail was telling his mother about work, and she nodded compassionately. As if nothing had occurred. As if his wife had not left unhappy, but rather vanished into thin air. Arina awoke earlier than usual. Lyudmila Vasilievna was still asleep, and the home was strangely silent. Mikhail sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, scanning through the news on his smartphone.
“Misha, I need to talk to you,” Arina said, sitting across from him with her hands clasped. “A serious talk.” He looked up from the TV, confused. “About what?” “About your mother,” Arina breathed. “I am tired of the incessant pestering. Lyudmila Vasilievna critiques everything—how I cook, clean, and dress. “I am tired of obeying her in our home.” “Arina, what are you saying?” Mikhail set down his phone. “Mom behaves well. “She simply has her habits.”
“Habits?” Arina’s voice became sharper. “Is that considered bossing over adults? Misha, is it time to get your mother a rental apartment? Allow her to live independently. We’re still young, and we need our own place. Mikhail slapped his cup into the saucer. “Are you suggesting to throw my mother out on the street?” Metal tinged his voice. “She asked to live with us, and you want to kick her out?” “I’m not saying that,” Arina said, reaching out to him, but he backed away. “Just a distinct location. We could assist with the rent…”
“Look, I don’t like this,” Mikhail jumped up and began preparing for work. “Mom does not annoy anyone. On the contrary, she improves our lives by cooking and helping around the house. “When does she cook?” Arina also got up. Misha, open your eyes! I work, come home, prepare supper, clean, and do laundry. And your mother only criticizes!” “Enough,” Mikhail interrupted, pulling on his jacket. “I do not want to hear this anymore. Mom remains with us. Period.”
The door banged behind him, producing an unpleasant metallic sound. Arina was left alone in the kitchen, staring at her husband’s unfinished coffee. The harshness of the argument crept through her like a cold drink. She slowly took the cup, rinsed it, and let it dry. Arina felt irritated by the injustice. Her mother-in-law had handed her apartment to her daughter. He then insisted on living with them. Mikhail observed nothing weird about this! Arina was bored of living under his mother’s scrutinizing gaze.
Lyudmila Vasilievna entered the kitchen 30 minutes later. Her hair was nicely styled, and her robe was buttoned to the last button. Her expression was one of great displeasure.
“Well, what a scene you made,” the mother-in-law exclaimed without greeting. “How unkind! “You thought my son would support you?” Arina quietly made herself some tea, attempting not to respond to the provocation. “See?” Lyudmila Vasilievna continued, sitting at the table. “My son took my side! That shows he realizes who’s in charge here. And since that’s the case, you must obey me!” Arina lowered the kettle more abruptly than intended.
“Today, you’ll clean the entire apartment until it shines,” the mother-in-law said, scolding. “Wash the windows, clean the floors in each room, and make the bathroom glitter. Otherwise, you walk around here like a woman, yet this house is filthy!” “The house isn’t dirty,” Arina quietly protested. “Not dirty?” Lyudmila Vasilievna raised her voice. “I noticed dust on the dresser in the living room yesterday!” And the mirror in the hallway is smudged. If you argue, I will complain to my son and tell him that you do not listen to me!”
Something inside Arina cracked. Like a tightly stretched string that couldn’t take the tension. She turned swiftly to face her mother-in-law. “No!” Her voice echoed with anxiety. “I will not do it!” I’ve been obeying you for too long! I got lost in all of this! I prepare what you want, clean when you request, and remain silent when you yell! Enough!” Lyudmila Vasilievna jumped up. Her face flushed with indignation. She yelled.
“How dare you?” How dare you speak back to me? Arina also raised her voice. “I dare!” I’m a living person, not your servant! And I shall no longer tolerate your nitpicking!” “If you talk back, my son will throw you out!” The mother-in-law shouted, waving her fist. Then something inside Arina appeared to break loose. Years of silence; months of shame. It everything came out in one huge wave. She straightened up to full height. Lyudmila Vasilievna took an unintentional step back because her voice was so powerful.
“You’ve forgotten whose apartment this is! You forget who allowed you to reside here! Who enabled you to reside here without paying any rent, utilities, or groceries? Let me remind you: this is my apartment! Mine was purchased before marriage. Bought before I knew your son, your entire family!” Lyudmila Vasilievna froze, mouth open. She certainly wasn’t expecting such a change. But Arina did not stop.
“So, from this day forward, you will no longer dictate terms to me! Or you’ll wind up on the street instead of me! Understand?” The mother-in-law stood motionless for a few seconds, then slowly recovered. Her face reddened, and her eyes narrowed. “How dare you speak to me like that?” She shrieked. “You have no rights! I am your husband’s mother. I am older than you. “You must respect me!” “Respect should be earned, not given by age!” Arina didn’t give in. “And in the past months living here, you have not earned even a drop of respect!”
“How dare you…” Lyudmila Vasilievna let out an outraged gasp. “Who do you believe you are? I’m Misha’s mother. And you’re only a transient woman! “He will always choose me!” “Then you two move out together!” Arina cut in. “And I will stay in my place! The one I pay for, maintain, and cook in! “While you’re just bossing around!” “I… “I’ll tell my son.” The mother-in-law stammered. “He’ll find out how you treat me!” “Go ahead and tell!” Arina crossed her arms. “Just don’t forget to mention that you live here for free!”
Lyudmila Vasilievna became enraged and stomped her way to her chamber. The door slammed so forcefully that the windows trembled. A few minutes later, an irritated voice sounded from the room. The mother-in-law openly addressed her son. Arina captured fragments: “Completely cheeky…” insults me and threatens to kick me out. Arina calmly drank her tea and began preparing for work. Let Lyudmila Vasilievna complain; today she uttered the truth for the first time in a long time. Mikhail arrived home in the evening, furious. His face was heated, and his eyes blazed with rage. Barely clearing the threshold, he attacked his wife:
“What do you think you’re doing?” He shouted. “Mom has told me everything! How could you offend her? Threaten to kick her out of the house?
“Out of my house,” Arina responded quietly, removing her apron. “And I did not threaten. “I warned. “Out of yours?” Mikhail’s voice became louder. “We’re husband and wife! “What is yours is mine!” “No, dear,” Arina replied, turning to him. “I acquired this apartment before the marriage. And I shall no longer tolerate your mother’s disrespect.” “Mom didn’t do anything wrong!” Mikhail yelled. “She only asked for help around the house!”
“She gave orders,” Arina replied. “They insulted me. And you supported her.” Of course, I supported her! “She is my mother!” “Then live with her,” Arina approached the front door and opened it wide. But not here. “Pack up and leave.” “You’re joking?” Mikhail glanced at his wife with amazement. “Not at all,” said Arina, pointing to the door. “You’ve had enough of using and living off of me. Now, determine where and how you wish to live. I chose to be joyful. “Without You!”
Lyudmila Vasilievna dashed out of the room when she heard the shouting. “What’s going on?” She inquired, but upon seeing the open door, knew everything. “Pack up,” Arina urged. “You have half an hour.” Relief swept over Arina like a wave. She’d taken the hardest step.