“I’m Not Doing Anything for Your Mother for Free! I’ll Treat Her Exactly the Way She Treats Me! Is That Clear?”
Larisa looked up from her computer when Andrey entered the kitchen. The moment she saw him, she knew something was wrong. Her husband stood in the doorway, shifting nervously from one foot to the other like a schoolboy waiting outside the principal’s office.
“What happened?” she asked, closing her laptop.
Andrey walked over to the table and sat opposite his wife. His hands clearly had no idea where to rest.
“Larisa, Mom’s birthday is coming up. She’s turning sixty. She wants to throw a big celebration and invite all our relatives and friends…”
Larisa felt everything inside her tighten. Whenever the subject of her mother-in-law came up, nothing good usually followed.
“So?”
“She’s asking for help with the preparations. You know, setting the table, making salads, preparing the main course… She won’t be able to manage it all by herself.”
Larisa leaned back in her chair. Seven years earlier, when Andrey had first brought her to meet his mother, Valentina Sergeyevna had greeted her future daughter-in-law coldly.
“She’s not one of us,” Larisa had overheard her saying behind a closed door.
Their relationship had only deteriorated since then.
Valentina Sergeyevna, a former literature teacher, considered herself a cultured intellectual and looked down on Larisa. Larisa worked for an IT company and earned more than her husband, but for some reason that did nothing to improve her standing in her mother-in-law’s eyes.
“Girls from respectable families stay home with their children instead of pursuing careers,” Larisa had heard her say more than once.
Valentina Sergeyevna also could not forgive her son for moving in with his wife instead of bringing Larisa into his childhood home.
“I live all alone, and he never thinks about me,” she complained to anyone who would listen.
“Why should I help a woman who has hated me since the first day she met me?” Larisa asked.
Andrey sighed.
“She doesn’t hate you. It’s just… difficult for her to accept that I’ve grown up.”
“Andrey, she told your aunt, right in front of me, that you would have been better off marrying Svetka Korovina. Right in front of me! And when I tried to respond, she announced that people in their family didn’t speak disrespectfully to their elders.”
“Mom can be a little sharp sometimes…”
“A little sharp?” Larisa rose from the table. “She called me an upstart who thinks too highly of herself because of her money. She told our neighbors that I didn’t take proper care of you because your shirt was wrinkled. She—”
“That’s enough!” Andrey interrupted her. “I know things aren’t perfect between the two of you. But she’s my mother, and she’s turning sixty. She has invited around thirty people. She won’t be able to handle it alone.”
“Then why invite so many people when she can’t organize it?”
“She has already invited everyone. You can’t cancel a sixtieth-birthday celebration.”
Larisa paced across the kitchen and stopped beside the window.
“Let her hire a catering company. They’ll take care of everything.”
“That costs money, and Mom’s pension isn’t very large.”
“She has a son who can pay for his mother’s party.”
“Larisa, you know I’m having problems at work right now. I didn’t receive my bonus, and they’ve been delaying my salary…”
Larisa turned toward her husband. Andrey sat with his head lowered. At moments like this, he seemed weak to her, incapable of standing up for himself or his own family.
“Fine,” she said coldly. “Then let your dear mother solve her own problems. I’m not doing anything for your mother for free! I’ll treat her exactly the way she treats me! Is that clear?”
Andrey’s head snapped up.
“Larisa, why are you behaving like a child? Can’t you forget your grievances for just one day?”
“Grievances?” Larisa laughed. “Andrey, your mother has spent seven years doing everything she can to make me feel like an outsider in your family. She still calls you every day to ask whether you’re hungry or cold, as though I’m incapable of taking care of you. She buys you socks and underwear even though you have a wife. She—”
“She’s only worried about me.”
“She simply can’t let go of her son! And she’s doing everything she can to destroy our marriage!”
Andrey stood and approached his wife.
“Larisa, please. It’s only one day. Do it for me.”
“No.” Larisa moved away from him. “I’m not going to pretend that we’re one big happy family anymore. Your mother treats me like an enemy, and I’m no longer going to smile at her in return.”
They barely spoke for the rest of the evening. Andrey sat in the kitchen for a long time, scrolling through his phone, while Larisa read in the bedroom. When her husband finally came to bed, she pretended to be asleep.
The next morning, Andrey left early without saying goodbye. Larisa worked from home, but by lunchtime she still could not focus on her reports. She understood that she had been harsh, but she also felt that every word she had said was justified.
Valentina Sergeyevna had never accepted her as a member of the family. In family photographs, she always positioned herself so that Larisa ended up at the edge of the picture or was left out of the frame entirely. On holidays, she brought presents for her son and conveniently “forgot” about her daughter-in-law.
When Larisa once tried to rearrange the furniture in the apartment she shared with Andrey, her mother-in-law declared, “In our family, we don’t move family belongings without asking permission.”
Larisa and Andrey had bought the furniture together with their own money.
Valentina Sergeyevna also had a habit of arriving without warning and staying for hours. She might appear on a Saturday morning saying, “I missed my son,” and remain until evening. During those visits, she barely spoke to Larisa. Whenever Larisa tried to join the conversation, Valentina Sergeyevna pursed her lips and turned away.
At half past two, the doorbell rang. Larisa looked through the peephole and froze. Valentina Sergeyevna was standing in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers.
“Larisa, please open the door. I need to speak to you.”
Larisa slowly opened it. Her mother-in-law looked different than usual. Her hair was not styled as perfectly as it normally was, and exhaustion showed on her face.
“Valentina Sergeyevna? Has something happened? Andrey isn’t home.”
“I came to see you.” Her mother-in-law held out the flowers. “May I come in?”
Larisa let her into the entryway and accepted the bouquet. They were white roses—expensive and beautiful. Valentina Sergeyevna had never given her flowers before.
“Come into the kitchen. Would you like some tea?”
“Thank you.”
They sat silently at the table. Larisa put the kettle on and set out two cups. Valentina Sergeyevna sat upright with her hands folded in her lap.
“Andrey told me that you don’t want to help with my birthday celebration,” she finally said.
“That’s right.”
“May I ask why?”
Larisa stopped in the middle of the kitchen.
“Seriously? Do you truly not understand?”
Valentina Sergeyevna remained silent.
“All right.” Larisa sat opposite her. “Seven years, Valentina Sergeyevna. For seven years, you have made it clear that I don’t belong here. That I’m unworthy of your son. That I’m a bad wife, a bad woman and generally a bad person. And now you expect me to cook for your guests for free?”
“I never said you were a bad person.”
“You didn’t?” Larisa stood, opened a table drawer and took out a small notebook. “I keep a record of our ‘conversations.’ ‘Larisa doesn’t know how to cook like a normal wife.’ ‘Larisa works too much and neglects her family.’ ‘In respectable families, wives don’t earn more than their husbands.’ ‘Larisa dresses provocatively.’ Shall I continue?”
Valentina Sergeyevna turned pale.
“I… I didn’t realize you took everything that way.”
“How else was I supposed to take it?”
The kettle whistled. Larisa made the tea and placed a cup in front of her mother-in-law.
“Larisa, I came here to ask for your help.” Valentina Sergeyevna’s voice trembled. “I really did invite a lot of people, and now I don’t know how to organize everything. Unless you help me, I’ll have to cancel the entire celebration. I’ve dreamed about this party for so many years… When else will I have the chance to gather everyone around the same table?”
“Why didn’t you ask your other relatives? Aunt Sveta, for example? She’s your sister-in-law. Surely she would help you.”
“Sveta lives in another city. She’s only coming for the celebration itself.”
“What about your neighbors? Your friends?”
Valentina Sergeyevna lowered her eyes.
“I don’t have many people who are truly close to me. And the few I do have… they’re already elderly themselves.”
Larisa studied her mother-in-law carefully. For the first time in seven years, she saw her like this—confused, pleading and almost defenseless.
“You know what, Valentina Sergeyevna?” Larisa said slowly. “I’m willing to help you, but on one condition.”
Her mother-in-law looked up.
“What condition?”
“You will apologize to me. For all these years. For refusing to accept me into the family. For humiliating me in front of other people. For trying to turn Andrey against me.”
A long silence followed. Valentina Sergeyevna gripped her cup with trembling hands.
“I…” She stopped and then began again. “I apologize, Larisa. I was wrong. I was afraid of losing my son, and that was why… why I treated you so badly. Please forgive me.”
The words were quiet, almost a whisper. Larisa was not certain that the apology was entirely sincere, but she nodded.
“All right. I’ll help you with the celebration.”
Valentina Sergeyevna gave a small sob.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“But we’re doing everything according to my plan. No criticism and no unsolicited advice from you. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
The following two weeks were filled with intense preparations. Larisa planned the menu, divided the responsibilities and organized the grocery shopping. Valentina Sergeyevna truly did not interfere. She simply carried out whatever tasks Larisa assigned her.
Gradually, the ice between them began to melt. As they worked together, they naturally started talking more. Valentina Sergeyevna told stories about Andrey’s childhood and showed Larisa old photographs. Larisa shared her plans for the future and spoke about her work.
“You know,” her mother-in-law said one day while chopping vegetables for a salad, “I really was afraid of you. You’re so independent and successful. I was accustomed to my Andryusha relying on me for everything. I thought you were going to take him away from me.”
“Valentina Sergeyevna, I don’t want to take Andrey away from you. I want to be his wife, while you are his mother. Those are two different roles.”
“Yes. I understand that now.”
The birthday celebration was a tremendous success. The guests were delighted with the food, and Valentina Sergeyevna glowed with happiness. During her speech of gratitude, she reserved special words for her daughter-in-law.
“I would like to thank my dear Larisa, without whom this celebration would not have been possible. She showed me what it truly means to be a family.”
Larisa felt tears gathering in her eyes. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps they really could become a family.
That evening, after the guests had left and all the dishes had been washed, Valentina Sergeyevna approached Larisa.
“May I hug you?”
Larisa nodded. The embrace was awkward, but warm.
“Thank you for giving me a second chance,” her mother-in-law whispered.
“Thank you for apologizing.”
On the drive home, Andrey could barely contain his happiness.
“Larisa, did you see how happy Mom was? And how she thanked you? I’m so glad the two of you have finally made peace.”
“We haven’t made peace, Andrey. We’ve simply started over with a clean slate.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Larisa looked through the window at the city at night. Yes, it was good. But most importantly, she had finally realized that respect truly had to be earned—and that both sides had to work on a relationship.
A month later, Valentina Sergeyevna called with an unexpected suggestion.
“Larisa, I’ve signed up for computer classes. I want to learn how to use the internet and email. Perhaps you could help me with my homework?”
“Of course I’ll help,” Larisa replied with a smile.
Perhaps a family is not merely something you are born into, but something you create—day after day, word after word, action after action.
And sometimes, you must first tear everything down before you can rebuild it on the solid foundation of mutual respect.