Luda never liked her daughter-in-law. Not from the very beginning, when Semyon first brought her home to meet the family. He was twenty at the time, and Luda was used to seeing a different girlfriend around every so often, but he never actually introduced any of them at home. She had told him right from the start that she didn’t need a parade of girls in the house.
“Only bring someone home when you’ve found the one you want to marry.”
What Luda meant was that Semyon should find a bride only after finishing his studies, getting settled, and earning enough to support a family. That’s how she and his father always taught him. So when he said he wanted to introduce Zhenya, Luda was genuinely surprised.
“Why on earth do you need to do that?”
“Well, you always said, ‘Bring her home when you’ve found the one.’ So, I found her.”
“A bride at twenty? Are you out of your mind?”
That turned into a huge argument: Luda refused to even listen to talk of a wedding, but her son insisted it was his decision who and when to marry. Her husband got involved and calmed them down, but the meeting was pretty awkward: the girl was from the countryside—smart enough, but she had nothing to her name, and she was head over heels for Luda’s son, totally smitten.
“Looks like we need to get ready for a wedding, mom,” her husband joked that evening.
But Luda couldn’t laugh. She didn’t believe anything good would come of it. They were both so young and naive—what kind of wedding could this be?
“My grandparents got married at seventeen and made it to their golden anniversary,” her husband tried to reassure her.
“It’s a different time now,” Luda argued. “They’ve only known each other for three months! Why rush? Let them date, get to know each other. Live together, if they’re so desperate!”
“Actually, that’s a good idea! Maybe we could kick out the tenants—neighbors complain about them anyway—and let the kids live there for a while. See how it works out.”
Luda liked that idea. She persuaded Semyon to hold off on the wedding and just live together for now.
“No way, that’s cool!” her son said happily. “I thought you’d be against it. I figured you’d say it’s not proper to live together before getting married.”
“Why would I say something like that?”
“Well, Zhenya’s mom thinks so,” Semyon admitted.
“That’s just because she’s from the village,” Luda replied. “We’re modern parents. Go ahead and live together—but just remember to use protection. You two aren’t ready for kids yet.”
Luda had a feeling—and she was right: after six months of living together, Zhenya got pregnant. Of course, her son decided it was time to get married. Luda was sure Zhenya pushed him into it.
The wedding was a mess. Zhenya was green and kept running to the bathroom, Semyon got drunk and fought with the best man, her husband also got drunk and fell asleep at the table—Luda could barely wake him up. Luda watched the whole thing skeptically: how were these two going to live together and raise a child?
Their granddaughter was born frail and constantly crying. The mother-in-law (Zhenyaʼs mom) came to “help” for a week but mostly just went shopping.
“Well, I have my garden to tend to, so I’m leaving,” she announced. “I’ve shown you how to swaddle and feed the baby.”
So Luda ended up helping the young ones herself: she brought them cutlets in food containers, bought diapers and baby clothes, and chipped in money, which always seemed to be in short supply now.
“I told you not to rush things!” Luda grumbled to her son.
And then there’s Zhenya: she barely started her new job and went straight into maternity leave, which means her benefits are minimal. Of course, as a young woman, she wanted more out of life, and started nagging Semyon. She even complained about him to Lyuda:
“I ask him for money to buy tights, and he says, why do you need tights? Just wear jeans. Yet he’s always checking out girls in skirts—how is that fair?”
Lyuda kept her thoughts to herself. She stayed quiet for the sake of her granddaughter: after all, the child wasn’t to blame for any of this.
“Did I cry this much when I was little?” Semyon asked. “I’m so tired of all the screaming. Can I sleep at your place from time to time?”
“No way!” Lyuda protested. “You were the one rushing to grow up. Well, here you are now.”
Life wasn’t going smoothly for the young couple. Their daughter was growing, but always seemed sick. Semyon would ask his mom for money, while Zhenya kept complaining. One time, Lyuda walked in on an ugly fight: Zhenya was in tears, confronting Semyon with a chat history from some other girl, but Semyon insisted it was just a friend’s sister.
“You spend more time at that friend’s house than at home!” Zhenya shouted.
Drama queen, Lyuda thought to herself. But when it really mattered, Zhenya proved different: when Lyuda’s husband suddenly fell ill, it was Zhenya who first noticed what was wrong, called an ambulance, and performed CPR.
“We learned this at university,” she explained.
Lyuda was terrified—she couldn’t imagine life without her husband. The shock made her come down with the flu herself. But Zhenya came over to care for her, cooked soup, and visited her father-in-law in the hospital. Semyon, meanwhile, was always at work.
Lyuda soon found out what kind of work it was. Her son confessed himself.
“Mom, I think I’m getting a divorce.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Zhenya turned out very different than I thought. She’s always unhappy, yells at me, doesn’t take care of herself. She’s gained ten kilos! It’s been two years since she gave birth, but she still looks like a barrel!”
“So what? Is that really a reason to get divorced?”
“Mom… I fell in love with someone else.”
No wonder Zhenya was so upset: that so-called friend’s sister was much more than just an acquaintance.
“I told you not to rush into things! So what now? What about Dashenka? She’s just a little girl.”
“Oh, I’ll take her on the weekends. Everything’s fine.”
But nothing was fine. And what, really, could Lyuda do about it?
A week later, Zhenya called her. Her voice was hoarse and defeated.
“Ludmila Petrovna… Can we stay with you for at least a month? You know Dasha needs her therapy, I can’t take her to the village right now. And honestly, I just don’t want to go there. I grew up there myself—what kind of education would Dasha get? I’d rent a room, but my maternity leave payments have stopped, and… you know how alimony is.”
Lyuda was confused: she thought she and her son had agreed that Zhenya and the little girl would stay at the apartment, at least until things calmed down. Her son had moved back in, his room untouched.
“Wait a second. What do you mean?”
“Semyon told me I have a week to move out. He said you asked us to leave, since it’s your apartment. He’s going to live here with his…”
Zhenya burst into tears, sobbing so hard Lyuda couldn’t make out a single word.
“Alright,” Lyuda said. “Stop crying. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be there soon.”
On the way over, Lyuda ran through different options in her mind. But whichever way she looked at it, there was really only one right choice.
“Start packing,” she instructed.
Zhenya, who had started to smile, suddenly looked downcast again.
“Oh, come on, calm down,” Lyuda said with a frown. “You’re coming to live with us.”
“What?” Zhenya was taken aback.
“Yep, that’s right. Since I raised such a scatterbrain, I’ll take responsibility for him. But you? How can you stay here alone? No money, no help. You’ll be better off with us. Let him bring his girl around—let’s see how long she lasts. I’m not giving them any money, and you know he hates to work. He’ll come running back to you soon enough. But listen, if I were you, I wouldn’t be in a hurry to take him back. Maybe it’s all for the best. My husband didn’t leave me when I gained weight because of diabetes. And I didn’t leave him when he was put on trial. Love, Zhenya, isn’t just those silly flings. You two moved too fast with Semyon, but that’s okay. You’ll find your real love. For now, you’ll just be our stand-in daughter.”
Of course, her son got angry about all this. But Lyuda didn’t pay him any attention—let him do whatever he wants. If he wants another wife, so be it. Of course, she still loves him and will help him, but she won’t abandon her granddaughter. Or Zhenya, for that matter. She wasn’t such a bad daughter-in-law after all…