“Mom said you should come over every day and cook,” my husband announced, as if he had forgotten I had a baby in my arms
— Mom said you should come over every day and cook, — Anton said, without lifting his eyes from his plate.
Masha froze with the spoon in her hand. Six-month-old Varya was snuffling in her crib beside the table, having just fallen asleep after a long round of rocking.
— What, excuse me? — she asked again, hoping she had misheard.
— Mom and Dad switched to new jobs. Their schedule is difficult, they both come home late and tired. Mom said that since you’re on maternity leave and home with the baby anyway, you could come over and cook lunch for them, — Anton finally looked up. — They help us so much, after all.
Masha slowly put down the spoon. A thousand thoughts rushed through her head, but only one question escaped:
— And where am I supposed to put Varya?
— Mom said you can take her with you, — Anton shrugged, as if it were the most obvious answer. — They have plenty of space.
Masha looked back at her sleeping daughter. After long months of sleepless nights, Varya had finally settled into a routine. She now slept at the same time every day. To disturb that fragile balance…
— Anton, it’s an hour there and an hour back by bus, with transfers. With a six-month-old baby and a bag of groceries.
— But they really do help us a lot, — Anton repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her arguments. — And Mom said that in her day she worked, cooked, and raised children all at once.
Masha sighed. The conversation felt like going in circles. She had never especially liked her mother-in-law, Elena Georgievna — domineering, fond of giving unsolicited advice, and always ready to wound her daughter-in-law’s pride at any opportunity. But for the sake of peace in the family, Masha tried not to escalate things.
— I’ll think about it, — was all she said.
The next day, Masha stood at the bus stop with Varya in her arms and a heavy bag of groceries. The November wind cut to the bone, and the baby whimpered beneath her snowsuit.
“For the sake of peace in the family,” Masha repeated to herself as she climbed into the overcrowded bus.
Elena Georgievna greeted them with an expression that made it seem as though she were doing them a favor by letting them into the apartment.
— Finally, — she glanced at the clock. — It’s almost noon already, and I have to be at work at two. I’ve been terribly hungry since morning.
Igor Ivanovich, a tall, lean man, nodded from behind his laptop.
— And I have a video conference in half an hour. Will you manage to whip something up?
Masha cast a quick glance toward the kitchen, where there was no sign of any prepared pot or pan of breakfast. Had they really eaten nothing all morning?
— I’ll try, — she muttered, undressing the whimpering Varya.
— Just don’t make noise, — Elena Georgievna warned. — I need to finish a report. And there’s a list of dishes on the table that we usually eat. Nothing you wouldn’t be able to make.
With those words, she disappeared into the bedroom.
Masha unfolded the sheet and ran her eyes over the lines. Her mother-in-law had written out a menu for the week ahead, as if it were self-evident that Masha would be coming every day.
While she frantically cooked cutlets with mashed potatoes according to the list, Varya began to cry. The little girl was not used to the unfamiliar apartment and sensed her mother’s tension.
— Can’t she be quieter? — Igor Ivanovich asked irritably from the room. — I have an important call!
Masha found herself in a hopeless situation: the stove, the crying baby, the irritated in-laws. She picked up her daughter, trying at the same time to stir the sauce. Varya calmed down a little, but continued to whimper.
By one in the afternoon, lunch was ready. Elena Georgievna came into the kitchen, tasted a cutlet, and grimaced.
— A bit dry. And not enough spices. We like it with pepper.
Masha said nothing, feeding Varya from a bottle. Despite the criticism, her in-laws ate everything down to the last bite. No one said thank you.
The week turned into an endless chain of morning preparations, long trips, cooking under watchful supervision, and criticism. Varya grew more and more fussy — her daily routine had been completely destroyed.
Every evening, Anton asked how the day had gone, but there was no genuine interest in his question. Masha felt that he was simply reporting back to his mother by phone that his wife was properly fulfilling her “duties.”
On Saturday, they were invited to a family lunch. Masha hoped to rest from cooking, but Elena Georgievna greeted her with the words:
— Since you’re here, maybe you can help me with the salads? I haven’t finished everything yet.
Besides them, Anton’s older sister Natalia and her husband Viktor were at the table — a solidly built man with an attentive gaze.
— Just imagine, — Elena Georgievna did not miss the chance to boast as she served the salad. — Masha now cooks lunch for us every day. She has finally learned how to cook properly!
Natalia raised her eyebrows in surprise.
— Every day? She travels across the whole city with the baby?
— What’s wrong with that? — the mother-in-law shrugged. — It’s good for her. Otherwise she just sits at home and stagnates.
— And you allow this? — Natalia turned to her brother. — Dragging a six-month-old baby across the city on public transport so Mom and Dad don’t have to cook for themselves?
Silence fell over the table. Anton coughed.
— They get tired at work. And Masha is home with the baby anyway. It’s good for her…
— Good for her how? — Viktor suddenly interrupted. — Exhausting herself with an infant for the sake of saving your parents’ time?
— Don’t meddle in what isn’t your business, — Elena Georgievna snapped. — We’re family. We help each other.
— Exactly, — Igor Ivanovich agreed. — Besides, we helped them with the apartment when they had just gotten married.
Masha felt everything inside her tighten. It was true — Anton’s parents had contributed most of the down payment for their mortgage. That argument came up every time they needed to force her and Anton to do what the in-laws wanted.
After lunch, when the men went out to the balcony to smoke, Natalia pulled Masha aside.
— Listen, I see what’s going on. They tried the same thing with me until Viktor put an end to it. Don’t let them use you.
— But they really did help us with the apartment, — Masha objected quietly.
— So what now? Are you going to work it off your whole life? — Natalia shook her head. — The child comes first. And your health matters too.
The bags under Masha’s eyes became more and more noticeable. Varya slept poorly at night and was fussy during the day. At a routine appointment, the pediatrician looked at them with concern.
— What happened? The child looks overtired.
Masha sighed and told her about the daily trips to her in-laws.
— Have you lost your mind? — the doctor shook her head. — A child needs a routine! Regular sleep, feeding, walks. Not shaking around in buses and strange apartments every day.
That evening, Masha tried to talk to Anton.
— The pediatrician said these trips are harming Varya. She needs a routine.
— My mother raised two children and worked, — Anton brushed her off in his usual way. — And nothing happened. We grew up normal. But you can’t cope with one child and still complain.
In the morning, Igor Ivanovich called.
— Masha, what are you going to cook today? Mother says she wants fish or chicken. And buy some sour cream too, we’ve run out.
That evening, Elena Georgievna sent a photo of a weekly menu and a grocery list that Masha was supposed to buy. The list included expensive delicacies that the young family, living on Anton’s single salary, simply could not afford.
At the clinic, Masha happened to start talking with a woman rocking twins.
— My name is Olga, — the woman introduced herself. — I see your eyes are red too. Not sleeping?
They began talking, and it turned out that Olga had a similar situation — her mother-in-law believed that a daughter-in-law should not only take care of the children, but also wash clothes for her husband’s entire family and cook for holidays.
— I endured it for two months, and then I nearly ended up in the hospital with a nervous breakdown, — Olga admitted. — I had to make my husband choose: either he put his parents in their place, or I would take the children and leave.
The thought that one did not have to endure, but could act, was new and frightening to Masha. All her life she had tried to be convenient for everyone — her parents, teachers, bosses, and now her husband and his family.
The next day, Masha’s mother, Tatyana Nikolaevna, came to visit. Seeing her exhausted daughter, she immediately sensed something was wrong.
— What happened? You don’t look like yourself.
Masha burst into tears and told her everything. Tatyana Nikolaevna was furious.
— How dare they! Treating you like a servant!
— Mom, please don’t interfere, — Masha asked. — I’ll handle it myself. I don’t want to make everything even more complicated.
Masha remembered that day forever. Varya cried all night — she was teething. Toward morning, she finally fell asleep, but the alarm was already ringing — it was time to get ready to go to the in-laws.
With eyes swollen from lack of sleep, Masha cooked borscht and cutlets, just as Elena Georgievna’s list instructed. Her hands trembled from exhaustion, and her head buzzed. Varya was cranky all day, refusing either to play or sleep.
Elena Georgievna came home from work earlier than usual. After tasting the borscht, she made a face.
— What disgusting food! How can anyone eat this? We work all day, and this is what you feed us?
Igor Ivanovich chimed in:
— It really isn’t tasty. Even café food is better. Maybe we should just order delivery?
Masha felt something inside her snap. Maybe it was weeks of exhaustion. Maybe lack of sleep. Or maybe it was the last straw that broke the camel’s back.
— Don’t you think this has gone too far? — she asked quietly, pressing the crying Varya to herself. — I am the mother of an infant, and you force me to travel across the whole city to cook lunch for you? Two grown adults can perfectly well cook for themselves or order that delivery you’re talking about!
Elena Georgievna’s face turned crimson.
— How dare you speak to your elders like that? We are your husband’s parents! We helped you with the apartment, and you can’t even show gratitude!
— Show gratitude with what? My health? Your granddaughter’s health? — Masha’s voice trembled, but she could no longer stop. — Varya sleeps badly, she’s fussy, the pediatrician says these trips are harmful to her. But of course, what matters most to you is that lunch is ready on time!
— Ungrateful girl! — Elena Georgievna shouted. — We do so much for you, and you!..
Masha silently packed the bag and the baby’s things, took Varya in her arms, and left the apartment to the sound of her mother-in-law shouting about ingratitude and modern youth.
At home, a serious conversation with her husband awaited her. Anton was furious.
— Do you realize what you’ve done? Mom is in tears! She says you said rude things to her and left, slamming the door!
— And what was I supposed to do, in your opinion? — Masha asked tiredly, rocking Varya as she fell asleep. — Your mother humiliates me every day. She criticizes everything I do. And you support her, not me.
— Because she’s right! — Anton exclaimed. — My mother worked, raised children, and cooked. All you do is complain!
— Your mother didn’t travel across the whole city with a child in her arms to cook lunch for her mother-in-law, — Masha said quietly. — And she had you, who helped her, instead of forcing her to tear herself apart.
Anton fell silent, clearly not expecting such an answer.
— I will not go cook for your parents anymore, — Masha said firmly. — It harms Varya and me. If you want your parents to eat well, cook for them yourself or order them delivery.
Anton slammed the door and left, leaving Masha alone. She called her mother and asked her to come help — she had no strength left to cope alone.
The next day, Anton’s sister Natalia unexpectedly came over. After listening to Masha’s story, she shook her head.
— I knew it would come to this. Wait, Anton will be back soon. We need to have a serious talk.
When Anton came home, Natalia met him at the door.
— Brother, we need to talk. Have you ever tried to cook lunch with a baby in your arms? Now imagine that first you have to travel for an hour by public transport, then cook under criticism, and then travel another hour back home.
Anton frowned.
— Natasha, don’t interfere in our relationship.
— Then who will? You’re turning into Dad’s copy. Can’t you see what you’re doing?
At the same time, Viktor, Natalia’s husband, went to see Igor Ivanovich. The man-to-man conversation was short but to the point.
— Igor, you’re going too far. Masha is not a servant. She is the mother of your granddaughter.
— We just wanted help, — Igor Ivanovich objected uncertainly. — Elena gets tired at work…
— Everyone gets tired, — Viktor cut him off. — But no one drags the mother of an infant across the city to cook lunches.
Meanwhile, Elena Georgievna was calling her friends and complaining about her daughter-in-law.
— Can you imagine, Nina, she told me we could cook for ourselves! After everything we’ve done for them!
But Nina, contrary to expectations, did not support her friend.
— Lena, don’t you think you’re overdoing it? A young mother with an infant is not a cook. In her place, I would have been outraged too.
Those words made Elena Georgievna fall silent, although she had no intention of admitting she was wrong.
That evening, after a long conversation with his sister, Anton decided to cook dinner for his parents himself. He bought groceries, went to their home, and spent several hours working magic in the kitchen.
The result exceeded all expectations, but not in a good way. The cutlets were burnt, and the soup was oversalted.
— This is inedible! — Elena Georgievna exclaimed after tasting her son’s creation. — I thought at least you knew how to cook properly!
Anton froze with the ladle in his hand. Something about his mother’s tone, about the expression on her face, suddenly seemed familiar to him. That was how she spoke to Masha every day. With the same intonation, the same expression.
— Mom, but I tried, — he said quietly.
— He tried! — Elena Georgievna snorted. — At your age, I had already fed forty people at a distant aunt’s funeral!
Anton exchanged a glance with his father. Igor Ivanovich awkwardly looked away. At that moment, Anton understood — it had never been about Masha. His mother simply could not accept that someone might do something differently from what she considered right.
When he returned home, he found Masha packing her things.
— What are you doing? — he asked, confused.
— I’m going to my mother’s, — Masha answered calmly. — I can’t live like this anymore, Anton. Either you stop pressuring me about cooking for your parents, or Varya and I will move in with my mother.
Anton sat down on the edge of the bed. The image of his mother’s disappointed face mixed in his mind with the image of his exhausted wife packing her things.
— I cooked dinner for them today, — he said quietly. — Mom said it was inedible.
Masha froze, then smiled bitterly.
— Now do you understand? This will never end. She doesn’t need help — she needs everyone to dance to her tune.
The serious conversation lasted late into the night. For the first time in a long while, Anton truly listened to his wife. He remembered how Elena Georgievna had treated his previous girlfriends, how she had controlled him in childhood, how she had pushed Natalia away when she got married.
The next day, he went to his parents. The conversation was not easy.
— Mom, Dad, I have to tell you something. Masha will no longer come over to cook. It is harming our daughter’s health.
Elena Georgievna flared up.
— Oh, so that’s how it is! You got married and forgot your parents! That Masha of yours has wrapped you around her finger completely!
But unexpectedly, Igor Ivanovich sided with his son.
— Elena, maybe we really did go too far? The girl was trying her best. And our granddaughter is fussy because of all these trips.
— So you’re against me too? — Elena Georgievna threw up her hands. — After everything I do for you!
She burst into tears and went into the bedroom. Igor Ivanovich looked guiltily at his son.
— Don’t be angry with her. She’s just used to controlling everything. It’s hard for her to understand that times have changed.
— Dad, we will come visit, — Anton said gently. — But not every day, and not so that Masha can cook for you. She is my wife, not a housekeeper.
A month passed. Relations between Masha and her mother-in-law remained tense. Elena Georgievna did not apologize, did not admit her fault, and did not repent. On the contrary, at every opportunity she made barbed remarks about how “some young mothers don’t know how to cook or look after a child.”
But Anton had changed. He began helping his wife more, taking Varya out for walks so Masha could rest. Once a week, they visited his parents as a family, but now either Anton cooked or they ordered delivery.
Masha began to feel better. Varya finally settled into her routine, becoming calmer and more cheerful. Most importantly, Masha no longer felt alone in her struggle.
She and Anton even began discussing the possibility of her returning to work early on a part-time basis. Masha missed her profession as an accountant and wanted to feel more independent.
Elena Georgievna never apologized to Masha, but under the influence of her husband and friends, she began to understand that her demands had been excessive. Still, she could not openly admit it because of her pride.
On the last Sunday of the month, they gathered for a family lunch at Anton’s parents’ home. Everyone sat in tense silence, maintaining a façade of decency for Varya’s sake. The baby, unaware of the adults’ tension, happily cooed in her grandfather’s arms.
Elena Georgievna, secretly watching her granddaughter, suddenly said quietly:
— She looks healthier. And happier.
— Yes, — Masha confirmed. — She is finally getting enough sleep and following a routine.
It was the first normal exchange between them in a month.
That evening, as she and Anton were driving home, Masha said:
— It will probably never be perfect. Your mother won’t change.
— The important thing is that I changed, — Anton replied, squeezing her hand. — I’m sorry I didn’t support you right away.
Masha smiled, looking at Varya asleep in the car seat.
— You know, the main thing is that you’re on my side now. We’ll get through the rest.
And although her relationship with her mother-in-law remained complicated, Masha knew that she was no longer alone in this fight. And that meant she could handle everything else.