Part 1
“Valera, you’ve got visitors!” Irina called out when she heard the doorbell ring on Saturday morning.
She had just sat down to check her eighth-graders’ tests, spreading the exercise books out on the kitchen table. Sunday was tomorrow, and on Monday she had to submit the academic performance report. Off to the side lay a stack of unmarked notebooks that didn’t seem to get any smaller no matter how much Irina worked.
The doorbell rang again, more insistently. Irina sighed, put down her red pen, and went to open the door. On the threshold stood Galina Petrovna, Irina’s mother-in-law, her daughter Natalya with her husband Sergei, and their fifteen-year-old daughter Dasha.
“Surprise!” Galina Petrovna exclaimed with a broad smile. “We were just passing by and decided to drop in for lunch!”
Irina silently stepped aside, letting the guests into the apartment. “We were just passing by” was the standard phrase she’d heard dozens of times in five years of marriage to Valera. For some reason, her husband’s relatives never called in advance. They preferred to “just happen to be nearby” precisely at lunchtime.
“Valera’s in the shower,” Irina said when everyone had entered the hallway. “Go on into the living room, he’ll be out in a minute.”
“And what are you making for lunch today, Irina dear?” asked Galina Petrovna, taking off her coat. “I hope it’s something tasty? We got so hungry on the way!”
Irina took a deep breath, counted to three, and slowly exhaled.
“No, I’m not going to cook for you. If you’d like, I can pour you some water,” she said calmly to her husband’s relatives, who once again had shown up without warning.
A deafening silence fell in the hallway. Galina Petrovna froze with her mouth slightly open. Natalya blinked several times in disbelief, as if she hadn’t heard right. Her husband Sergei suddenly became very interested in the pattern on the wallpaper, and Dasha hid a smile behind her phone.
Valera came out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair as he walked.
“Oh, Mom! Natasha!” he said happily, then immediately noticed the tension. “What’s going on?”
“Your wife is refusing to feed us,” Galina Petrovna said in an icy tone. “She says she can only offer us water.”
Valera stared at Irina in shock.
“Ira, what are you doing? This is my family who came to visit.”
“Without warning,” Irina replied calmly. “For the third time this month. I’m working, I’m drowning in notebooks and reports. I don’t have time to cook everything.”
“But they’re hungry!” Valera protested.
“There are plenty of cafés along the way,” Irina shrugged. “Or you could have called in advance. I would’ve prepared.”
“So that’s how relatives are treated in this house,” Galina Petrovna muttered loudly, turning to her daughter. “Natasha, you would never behave like this.”
Part 2
“Mom, let’s not start,” Valera said unexpectedly. “Maybe we really should have called first?”
Galina Petrovna looked at her son as if he had betrayed his country.
“So now I have to make an appointment to see my own son?” Her voice trembled with hurt. “We’re leaving. We won’t interfere with your… busy life.”
“Wait,” Valera tried to stop his mother, but Galina Petrovna was already marching toward the door, dragging Natalya with her. Sergei and Dasha exchanged glances and followed them.
When the door closed behind the relatives, an oppressive silence settled over the apartment.
“Happy now?” Valera turned to Irina, folding his arms across his chest.
“No, I’m not happy,” she replied. “I’m tired of being a 24/7 canteen for your relatives. They come whenever they feel like it and expect me to drop everything and run to the kitchen.”
“They just wanted to visit us!” Valera raised his voice.
“They wanted to be fed,” Irina shot back. “And why is it always me who has to do it? Why not you?”
“Because you’re a woman!” Valera blurted out, then immediately fell silent, realizing what he’d just said.
Irina gave a bitter little laugh.
“There it is. The truth. For your family I’m just service staff. A cook, a maid, a waitress.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Valera muttered.
“That’s exactly what you meant,” Irina said and went back to the kitchen, to her stack of notebooks. “I’m a math teacher. I have my own job that I need to do. And I am not obligated to drop everything every time your mother feels like sitting at a laid table.”
Valera stared at her silently for a few seconds, then grabbed his jacket.
“I’m going to my mom’s. I need to calm her down after your… stunt.”
“Of course, go,” Irina nodded, not lifting her head from the notebooks. “Just don’t forget to apologize for my behavior.”
The door slammed so hard the glass rattled.
That evening Valera didn’t come back. He didn’t show up the next day either. On Monday morning, as Irina was getting ready for work, the phone rang. It was Marina, a colleague from school.
“Ira, are you okay?” she asked in an anxious voice.
“Yes, why? What happened?”
“The principal got a call from some woman who said you’re a bad wife and unfit to work with children. That you threw your husband’s relatives out of the house hungry and without even offering them water.”
Irina sank down onto a chair. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.
“That was my mother-in-law,” she said quietly. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything to the principal.”
“Don’t stress,” Marina reassured her. “Anna Sergeyevna said she’s not interested in employees’ family dramas as long as they don’t affect their work. She just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
After her lessons, Irina walked home slowly, wondering what awaited her there. Valera had ignored her calls all weekend. Could a five-year marriage really fall apart over one refusal to cook?
Part 3
The apartment was quiet and empty. Irina checked her phone—no messages from her husband. She dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Deciding to keep herself busy, Irina started sorting through the kitchen cabinets—something she’d been meaning to do for a long time but never found the time.
The doorbell rang. Irina’s heart leapt—maybe Valera had come back? But on the threshold stood their neighbor, Zinaida Vasilievna.
“Irochka, is everything all right?” the elderly woman asked. “I saw your Valera leaving on Saturday with a suitcase. Didn’t you two have a fight?”
“Everything’s fine, Zinaida Vasilievna,” Irina replied politely. “Just a small misunderstanding.”
“Because of your mother-in-law, right?” the neighbor asked unexpectedly, and seeing Irina’s surprise, she added, “I saw her car by the entrance. She comes over a lot, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, quite often,” Irina sighed.
“And always without warning, so you don’t have time to prepare?” the older woman asked knowingly. “And then she criticizes your cooking and how you keep house?”
Irina stared at her in amazement.
“How do you…?”
“I had a mother-in-law just like that,” the old woman smiled. “Only back then times were different. I put up with it for thirty years, until my Petya… well, until he passed away. And you did the right thing, showing some backbone right away.”
“And did your husband run off to his mother’s too?” Irina asked hopefully.
“Of course!” Zinaida Vasilievna laughed. “Three times over the course of our life together. But he always came back. Where else could he go? Just don’t give in. You have to set your rules right from the start, otherwise it’ll be too late later.”
After talking to her neighbor, Irina felt a little better. At least she wasn’t the only one who had decided to stand up to “family traditions.”
On Tuesday evening the doorbell rang again. This time it was Valera. He looked crumpled and tired.
“I’m here for my things,” he said, walking into the apartment. “I’ll stay at Mom’s for a while.”
“You’re serious?” Irina could hardly believe it. “Because I refused one time to cook for your relatives?”
“That’s not the point,” Valera started taking clothes out of the wardrobe. “You insulted my family. Mom says you don’t respect our traditions and…”
“Your mom?” Irina cut him off. “You’re a grown man, Valera. You’ve got a head on your shoulders. Can’t you see she’s manipulating you?”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that!” Valera snapped. “She’s always wanted only the best for me!”
“And calling my principal to badmouth me—is that ‘only the best’ too?” Irina asked quietly.
Valera froze.
“What call?”
“Your mother phoned the school and said all kinds of nasty things about me. She wanted me fired.”
“That can’t be,” Valera muttered in confusion. “She wouldn’t…”
“Ask her yourself,” Irina shrugged. “Though I doubt she’ll admit it.”
Part 4
At that moment the doorbell rang again. Irina opened it and saw a tall, gray-haired man of about sixty.
“Good evening,” the stranger said. “I’m looking for Valery Nikolaevich Sokolov. Does he live here?”
“Dad?” Valera peered out of the bedroom, not believing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to see what kind of mess your mother has stirred up,” the man replied calmly. “May I come in?”
Irina stepped aside, letting her father-in-law into the apartment. She had never seen Valera’s father before. All she knew was that her husband’s parents had divorced when he was twelve and that since then Nikolai Ivanovich had lived in another city.
“My name’s Nikolai,” the man introduced himself, holding out his hand to Irina. “Sorry for coming without warning, but apparently that’s our family tradition.”
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Irina couldn’t help but smile.
“How did you find out what was going on?” Valera still looked stunned.
“Natalya called,” Nikolai Ivanovich replied. “She said you’ve got a family drama unfolding here and your mother is getting ready to ‘rescue’ you from your ‘evil wife.’ I decided to come and see for myself.”
“And you came from another city?” Valera asked skeptically.
“I’ve actually been back for a year,” his father answered calmly. “I work as a consultant at a construction company. I just didn’t want to meddle in your life, son. I thought you’d call when you were ready.”
They sat down in the living room. Nikolai Ivanovich looked around with interest.
“It’s nice here. Cozy,” he remarked. “Now tell me, what happened?”
Irina and Valera started talking at the same time, then stopped.
“Let’s go in order,” suggested Nikolai Ivanovich. “Irina, why don’t you start.”
Irina told him how her husband’s relatives constantly came over without warning, always right at lunchtime, expecting her to feed them despite her workload. How her mother-in-law criticized her housekeeping skills and lectured her on how to run a home properly. And how, the last time, she’d simply had enough and refused to cook.
“And now you, son,” Nikolai Ivanovich turned to Valera.
“Mom says Ira doesn’t respect our family,” Valera began. “That she’s a bad housewife and doesn’t take care of her husband. That if she doesn’t apologize to everyone, it’d be better for us to split up.”
Nikolai Ivanovich sighed heavily.
“And you, of course, took your mother’s side,” he said—not as a question, but as a statement. “As always.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Valera protested. “Ira was rude to Mom!”
“She wasn’t rude,” his father said calmly. “She refused to comply with a demand she considered unfair. There’s a difference.”
Part 5
“Doesn’t it seem strange to you that your mother calls your wife’s workplace?” Nikolai Ivanovich went on. “That she turns you against Irina and demands a divorce because she didn’t get a hot meal on command one time?”
Valera stayed silent, staring at the floor.
“Son, you’re repeating my mistake,” his father said gently. “I also always did whatever your mother wanted. I always put her wishes above my own and above those of my family. And do you know where that led? To divorce and to the fact that you and I hardly spoke for twenty years.”
“But Mom said you left her for another woman,” Valera said, bewildered.
Nikolai Ivanovich gave a bitter little smile.
“I left because I couldn’t stand the control and manipulation anymore. And the other woman came into my life much later. But it was easier for Galina to paint me as a traitor than to admit her own mistakes.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. Irina didn’t know what to say. She could see Valera digesting the information, his expression changing.
“I’m not saying your mother is a bad person,” Nikolai Ivanovich continued. “She’s just used to controlling everyone around her. It makes her feel safe. But it destroys relationships, Valera. And right now she’s destroying your marriage, and you’re helping her.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Valera asked helplessly.
“That’s up to you,” his father shrugged. “But if you want my advice—start setting boundaries. Tell your mother you love her, but that you and Irina have a right to your own rules in your own home.”
“She’ll be offended,” Valera said quietly.
“Of course she will,” Nikolai nodded. “She’ll sulk, lay on the guilt, maybe even threaten you. But if you don’t do it now, you’ll lose your wife. And then the next one. And in the end, you’ll end up alone, like me.”
Valera raised his eyes to Irina.
“Forgive me. I… I didn’t understand what I was doing.”
“I’m not angry at you,” she replied softly. “I just want our family to have fair rules for everyone. I’m not against your relatives, really. I just want them to respect our time and our home.”
“You know what,” said Nikolai Ivanovich, clapping his hands lightly, “let’s have a big family talk. We’ll invite Galina, Natasha and her family, and discuss everything like adults. What do you say?”
Irina and Valera exchanged glances.
“I’m in,” Irina nodded.
“Me too,” Valera said, looking determined. “It’s time for everyone to grow up—me included.”
Part 6
The following Saturday, everyone gathered in Irina and Valera’s apartment: Galina Petrovna, Natalya with Sergei and Dasha, and Nikolai Ivanovich. Irina had prepared a spread, but this time Valera helped her in the kitchen instead of sitting with the guests, waiting for his wife to serve everyone.
When Galina Petrovna saw her ex-husband, she almost turned around to leave. But curiosity got the better of her, and she stayed, though her entire posture radiated displeasure.
“So,” Valera began when everyone sat down at the table, “we’re here to talk about the situation in our family and find a solution that works for everyone.”
“What solution can there be?” snorted Galina Petrovna. “Your wife needs to apologize for her behavior, that’s all.”
“Mom,” Valera said firmly, “let’s listen to each other first, okay? No accusations.”
Galina Petrovna pressed her lips together, but said nothing.
“Irina,” Valera turned to his wife, “please tell us what’s bothering you.”
Irina took a deep breath.
“I work as a math teacher. I have six classes—over a hundred and fifty students. I teach lessons, check notebooks, prepare materials, write reports. It takes almost all my time. When you come over without warning and expect me to drop everything and cook lunch for six people, it’s… it’s simply impossible. I’m not against family gatherings, truly. I just want them to be planned so I can prepare.”
“Listen to her, how busy she is,” muttered Galina Petrovna. “And what about family values? When I was young, I always found time for my husband’s relatives!”
“Times have changed, Mom,” Valera said gently. “Nowadays women work just as much as men. Ira really does have a lot on her plate. And I should’ve understood that and helped her instead of expecting her to manage everything alone.”
“This is what modern upbringing leads to,” Galina threw up her hands. “In the old days wives respected their husbands and their husbands’ families!”
“Respect has to go both ways, Galina,” Nikolai Ivanovich suddenly interjected. “You can’t demand respect for yourself while not respecting others.”
“Oh, you be quiet!” flared up Galina Petrovna. “You haven’t been around for twenty years, and now you’re here to teach us?”
“Grandma, please don’t shout,” Dasha said quietly. “Let’s really talk calmly.”
Everyone looked at the teenage girl in surprise.
“Aunt Ira is great,” Dasha went on. “She helps me with math when I ask. And she always treats us when we come over. It’s just that this time we came without warning when she was busy. Is it really fair to expect her to drop her work?”
Galina Petrovna was taken aback; she hadn’t expected this from her granddaughter.
“Dasha’s right,” Sergei unexpectedly chimed in, supporting his wife’s sister-in-law. “We wouldn’t be thrilled either if people kept showing up at our place unannounced and demanding to be fed.”
“Sergei!” Natalya exclaimed indignantly. “Whose side are you on?”
“On the side of common sense,” he replied calmly. “We’re the ones being rude, Natasha. Just admit it.”
Part 7
Little by little, the conversation became more constructive. Valera suggested setting clear rules for family visits: agree in advance, at least a day ahead, preferably several. And share responsibilities for cooking—if the gathering is at their place, he and Irina would cook together.
“And it would be nice sometimes to meet at a café or restaurant,” Irina suggested. “So no one has to cook and everyone can just talk and enjoy being together.”
“At a café? To waste that kind of money?” protested Galina Petrovna.
“Mom, we’re not destitute,” Valera said gently. “Once a month we can afford to go out as a whole family.”
“Yes, and I can treat everyone,” Nikolai Ivanovich offered unexpectedly. “After all, I have the right to spend time with my family too.”
Galina pursed her lips but stayed silent. It was clear she didn’t like what was happening but could no longer control the situation as before.
“You know,” Natalya said thoughtfully, “Dad is right. We really could meet as a whole family more often. Dasha barely knows her grandfather.”
“I’d like that,” Nikolai smiled at his granddaughter.
By the end of the evening, the atmosphere had noticeably lightened. Even Galina had thawed a little, though she still kept somewhat aloof. When the guests started to leave, Valera walked his parents out.
“You did the right thing, son,” Nikolai said quietly, shaking his hand. “Take care of your family. And don’t repeat my mistakes.”
Hearing this, Galina sniffed indignantly but said nothing. She kissed her son on the cheek and left the apartment without saying goodbye to Irina.
“Don’t worry,” Natalya said, hugging Irina goodbye. “Mom just isn’t used to being contradicted. She’ll get over it.”
When everyone had gone, Irina and Valera were left alone in the suddenly quiet apartment.
“Thank you,” Valera said softly, hugging his wife. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be stuck in that closed loop. And I’d never have reconciled with my father.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Irina smiled. “I just wanted us to be respected.”
“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Valera stepped back and looked her in the eyes. “Maybe we should move? Rent a place farther from Mom? So she can’t ‘just happen to be passing by’ every week.”
“And you’re ready for that?” Irina asked in surprise.
“I think so,” he nodded. “We need our own space to build our own family. By our own rules.”
Part 8
Three months passed. Irina and Valera moved to another part of the city, renting an apartment not far from the school where Irina worked. This significantly cut down her commute time and gave them more freedom from unexpected family visits.
They established a new tradition—family lunches once a month, agreed upon in advance. Sometimes the gatherings were at their place, sometimes at Natalya and Sergei’s, and sometimes in a café or restaurant. To everyone’s surprise, Nikolai Ivanovich began to appear regularly at these meetings, gradually building relationships with his grandchildren and children. At first, Galina kept her distance and often refused to come if she knew her ex-husband would be there. But gradually, seeing how the family dynamics were changing, she too started to soften.
At one such gathering, when everyone met at a café for Valera’s birthday, Irina noticed Galina and Nikolai having a calm conversation in the corner, without their usual tension.
“Can you believe it,” Natalya whispered, sliding into the seat next to Irina, “they’re discussing how they’ll help Dasha prepare for her exams together. Mom offered to help with Russian, and Dad with physics.”
“Miracles do happen,” Irina smiled.
“And it’s thanks to you,” Natalya said seriously. “If you hadn’t stood your ground back then, everything would still be the same. Mom would be controlling everyone, we wouldn’t be talking to Dad, and Valera would be torn between you and her.”
Irina shook her head.
“I just didn’t want to cook lunch without warning.”
“And in the end you turned our whole family system upside down,” Natalya laughed. “By the way, things are different between me and Sergei now too. He helps more with the housework, and I’ve learned to ask for help instead of waiting for him to magically guess.”
Just then Valera came over with a big cake in his hands.
“Ladies, help me cut this masterpiece,” he grinned. “I can’t handle it alone.”
“Before, you’d just plop it down in front of Irina and go back to the guests,” Natalya pointed out.
“Before—yes,” Valera nodded. “But now I know that a family is a team. Everyone has to pull their weight.”
When the cake was cut and everyone gathered around the table, Nikolai unexpectedly stood up and raised his glass.
“I’d like to make a toast. To my son, who turns forty-one today. To the fact that he turned out wiser than his father and found the strength to change what wasn’t working in his family. To the fact that he wasn’t afraid to go against the usual way of doing things and create new, healthy traditions. And”—he looked at Irina—“to his wonderful wife, who helped him do it.”
“To Valera and Irina!” everyone echoed.
Only Galina stayed silent, but when Irina met her eyes, her mother-in-law gave her the slightest of nods. It wasn’t a full admission of guilt or an apology, but it was a step toward understanding. A small one, but important.
After the celebration, when she and Valera came home, Irina asked:
“Do you regret that everything changed so much?”
Valera thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“No. You know, for the first time I feel like we’re a real family. Not one where everyone plays assigned roles and no one dares step out of line, but one where people respect each other and can be themselves.”
“And all because I refused to cook lunch,” Irina smiled.
“No,” Valera said seriously. “All because you weren’t afraid to break the unspoken rules. Sometimes you just have to say ‘no’ to change what doesn’t work.”
He hugged his wife and added quietly:
“So, how about we cook something together now? I’m hungry.”
Irina laughed and nodded. Cooking together with her husband, by choice and not on demand, was a completely different thing.
Six months later, Nikolai Ivanovich and Galina Petrovna announced they had decided to try to rebuild their relationship. No one had expected such a twist, but everyone was happy. Even Irina, who had already grown used to the fact that her mother-in-law now called before visiting and no longer criticized her housekeeping.
“I never would’ve thought that my phrase, ‘No, I’m not going to cook for you,’ would lead to your parents getting back together,” she said to Valera when they heard the news.
“And I’m grateful you said it,” he replied. “Sometimes you have to stop doing what doesn’t bring anyone happiness so you can start building what really matters.”
And Irina couldn’t disagree. Sometimes a single refusal can change an entire system of relationships. You just have to find the courage to say it out loud.
