Katya crawled exhausted to her apartment. Friday evening finally promised a long-awaited rest. Eight years ago she took out a mortgage and only last month she paid the last payment.
My soul felt warm and joyful – now this was definitely her place, only hers.
She shook the keys to the door with great pleasure. This sound always lifted the mood, as if reminding: “You are home, you are safe.” The recently completed renovation pleased the eye with new tiles in the bathroom and freshly pasted drawings on the walls of the living room. There was still a smell of paint, which Katya covered the old chest of drawers with, making it snow-white and as if new.
Katya had barely crossed the threshold when the phone began to ring. The screen showed “Mom.” Her finger hovered over the answer button. She didn’t want to start the weekend with this conversation. Her relationship with her mother was strained, to put it mildly.
“Hello,” Katya tried to make her voice as friendly as possible, although inside everything was tense.
“I’m coming to you, come meet me,” the mother’s energetic voice was heard, the interference on the line distorted the sound, as if she was somewhere on the road.
– What do you mean? – Katya froze with a bag of groceries, which she hadn’t managed to put on the floor. – When?
– Yes, soon, in an hour, probably. We caught a car on the highway, got to the city, now we’re on a minibus.
– We? Who are we? Mom, my place isn’t cleaned up, I’m not ready for guests, – my mouth went dry. Mom didn’t arrange such surprises often, but every time it resulted in trouble.
– What’s there to prepare for? To meet my mother. In short, we’ll be there in an hour. And you’ll meet Vadim, my husband. You’ll get to know him.
The connection was cut off, but Katya stared at the phone screen for a long time. Vadim? Husband? Her mother hadn’t said a word about getting married. Although, they hadn’t communicated much lately. They mostly exchanged routine messages on holidays.
I had to quickly tidy up – vacuum, clean up scattered things, prepare at least some treat. What does the mother want? To brag about her new husband? To ask for money? Experience told me that such visits do not just happen.
——————————————
The doorbell rang when Katya was finishing the dishes. She took a deep breath, wiped her hands and went to open the door, mentally preparing herself for the meeting.
On the threshold stood the mother, Valentina Petrovna, still as large, loud, with hair dyed red. And next to her stood a short, balding man with a small paunch and a thin beard. Behind them were piled a suitcase, a large bag and packages.
– Well, hello, my daughter! – Valentina Petrovna hugged Katya, giving her the scent of cheap perfume. – Meet Vadim, my husband. And this is Katya, my daughter.
Vadim nodded, extended a limp hand to Katya and quickly pulled it back, as if he was afraid of getting infected with something.
“Come in,” Katya stepped aside, letting the guests in. “I put the tea on.”
– What tea? – Valentina Petrovna waved her hand. – We are tired from the road, it took us half a day to travel from the village. Show us the room where we will stay.
– A room? – Katya felt a cold wave run through her body. – Are you staying?
– What did you think? – Mother was already taking off her shoes, throwing off her old, worn-out ones. – Vadim, bring the bags, I’ll wash my hands now and explain everything.
Katya silently led the guests into the kitchen. Her thoughts were confused. The apartment was one room, there was simply no place to accommodate two adults for a long time. And she didn’t want to.
– Listen, daughter, here’s the thing, – Valentina Petrovna began, sitting down at the table. – Vadim and I got married recently. We met on a minibus, can you imagine? He sat down next to me, and we started talking. He was from the city, visiting his brother. And so it all started.
Vadim sat nearby with an emphatically businesslike air, looking around the kitchen with an appraising glance.
“I’m happy for you,” Katya answered reservedly. “I just don’t understand why you brought all your things here?”
– Vadim is currently without a residence permit, – the mother leaned forward. – His apartment was sold when they were formalizing guardianship for my brother, he is very sick. It’s a complicated story. And now we have to live together, we are a married couple. There is nothing to do in the village in winter, there is no work. So we are coming to you.
– To me? – Katya stopped with cups in her hands. – In what sense?
– Directly. Register us here, – Valentina Petrovna spoke as if asking her to pass salt. – Vadim needs to find a job, and without a residence permit they won’t hire you anywhere. It won’t be for long, until we get back on our feet.
Katya slowly put the cups on the table. Memories flashed through her head of how her mother had forced herself to stay with her brother and his wife – “for a short time” turned into two years of torment. How Aunt Tanya’s valuable brooch had disappeared when her mother had come to “visit” her after the hospital. How the money Katya had saved up for the trip as a student had disappeared.
“Mom, this is my apartment,” Katya said quietly but firmly. “I recently did some renovations. Registration is a serious matter. I can’t register you or, especially, a stranger here.
For a couple of seconds Valentina Petrovna looked at her daughter with an incredulous look, and then her face began to change – her lips tightened, her cheeks turned red.
– Are Vadim and I strangers? – the offended mother’s tone bordered on rage. – A stranger? Are you talking about your own mother? About the one who raised you, educated you, didn’t sleep at night? And now you won’t let us in?
“I let you in,” Katya crossed her arms over her chest. “You can spend the night on the couch. But I won’t register anyone.”
– Oh, you ungrateful one! – Valentina Petrovna slammed her palm on the table so hard that the cups jumped. – I’ve lived my whole life for you! And you’re against your own mother? Can you imagine how hard it is now without a residence permit? We live like strangers! Vadim can’t find a job!
“It’s not my problem,” Katya tried to speak calmly, but her voice trembled. “I didn’t ask you to move in with me.”
“Stop yelling! This is my apartment, and I won’t register a single person here!” Katya told her mother when she continued to yell louder and louder.
Valentina Petrovna even recoiled. She had not expected such a tone from her usually docile daughter. But she quickly pulled herself together and switched to a proven tactic – pressure on pity.
– This is how you talk to me, – she theatrically pressed her hand to her chest. – I am your mother! I gave birth to you, I didn’t sleep at night, everything for you! And now you raise your voice at your mother? Because of some apartment?
Vadim sat silently, examining his nails. A couple of times he glanced around appraisingly, lingering on the new microwave and television.
“Mom, let’s stop this conversation,” Katya turned away, trying to cope with the emotions that had washed over her. “Spend the night, and tomorrow we’ll decide what to do next.”
– Let’s decide? – Valentina Petrovna stood up. – There’s nothing to decide! I’m your mother! You’re your daughter! How can you refuse your own mother?
– So you can just show up without warning and demand a residence permit for yourself and your new husband, whom I’m seeing for the first time? – Katya also stood up. – Mom, this is my apartment. I bought it, I paid for it. I don’t owe you anything.
– Who are you without a family? – Valentina Petrovna raised her voice to a scream, her face distorted with anger. – You have no one, and at least we are nearby! You have to!
The neighbors were probably already listening to the screams through the wall. Katya stood with clenched fists, feeling tears of hurt and anger welling up in her eyes. At that moment, Vadim finally spoke up.
“You know, Valya, you’re not the right person,” he spoke slowly, drawing out his words. “Katya’s right, this is her place. But we can come to an agreement in a good way. It’s not necessary to register her. Maybe we can just live there temporarily…”
Valentina Petrovna quickly looked at her husband, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. Irritation flashed in her gaze, but she quickly switched back to her daughter.
– You see, we are not asking for the impossible, – Valentina Petrovna’s tone changed to a pleading one. – Just to live a little. And then we’ll manage ourselves.
Katya shook her head. Years of communicating with her mother had taught her to recognize these manipulations. First, demands, then pressure, then a concession and a request for a small thing, which gradually turns into a bigger one.
– No, Mom. I live alone and I want to live alone, – Katya spoke slowly, trying to sound calm. – You can spend the night. Tomorrow I will help you find a rental option.
– Where are we going to get the money for rent? – Valentina Petrovna threw up her hands. – Vadim has no job! I live on my pension!
– How were you going to live here? – Katya leaned her hands on the table. – On my salary?
– Well, we’re not strangers! – the mother raised her voice again. – Family should help each other! I’ve been pulling you along for so many years, and now you’re abandoning us to our fate?
Katya smiled bitterly, remembering how she often sat alone as a child while her mother “arranged her personal life.” How, as a teenager, she prepared her homework on her own, and then dinner, because Valentina Petrovna came home late. How she took out her first student loan because her mother’s “I put it aside for your education” turned out to be empty words.
“Are we staying the night or not?” Vadim intervened in the conversation, breaking the prolonged silence.
“You’ll spend the night,” Katya nodded. “On the fold-out sofa.”
– Do you have no space at all? – Valentina Petrovna glanced around the apartment. – The apartment is big.
— There’s enough space for one night.
The evening passed in tension. Valentina Petrovna was either offendedly silent or began to loudly talk about the hardships of village life. Vadim mostly sat on the phone, only occasionally nodding in agreement with his wife. Katya made a bed for the guests on the sofa and went to sleep in the kitchen, where she made herself a bed from a blanket and a pillow.
She couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. She heard her mother and Vadim whispering in the room, the sofa creaking when they tossed and turned. Thoughts swarmed in her head. What if they just didn’t leave? What if she had to call the police? Would she look like a monster to the neighbors if she threw her own mother out?
By morning Katya had made her decision. She got up earlier than the guests, quickly got ready and left without waking them.
Returning a couple of hours later, Katya found Valentina Petrovna and Vadim already in the kitchen. Her mother was busy at the stove, frying eggs from Katya’s products.
– Ah, she’s back, – Valentina Petrovna threw over her shoulder. – I made breakfast here. Sit down, let’s talk.
“We have nothing to talk about,” Katya put the papers on the table. “I found out about several rental housing options. Inexpensive, with monthly payment. Here are the addresses and phone numbers of the owners.
Valentina Petrovna froze with a shovel in her hand, looking at her daughter with undisguised surprise.
– Do you seriously think that we will leave? Right now? – She laughed, but there was no joy in this laughter. – My dear, don’t you understand? We came to live with you! For good!
“No, Mom,” Katya shook her head. “This is not up for discussion.”
Valentina Petrovna put down the shovel and came close to her daughter.
“I’m your mother,” she said, enunciating each word. “I gave birth to you! I’ve done so much for you! And now you’re throwing me out the door? For what?”
“I’m not throwing them out,” Katya took a step back. “I’m just not letting them live with me. These are two different things.”
– Different? – Valentina Petrovna laughed. – For me they are the same! My own daughter refuses to help! You…
“Enough,” Katya raised her hand. “I won’t discuss this anymore.”
She walked out of the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Her hands were shaking, but her face remained cold. Katya walked to the front door and flung it wide open.
“Stop yelling. The apartment is mine. I will not register a single person here. Not you, not him. Never,” Katya said firmly when her mother and Vadim went out into the hallway.
Valentina Petrovna froze, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. But she quickly came to her senses and went on the offensive.
“You have no right to talk to me like that!” she screamed, waving her arms. “I carried you! Gave birth to you! Raised you! You are obliged to help me! You are obliged!”
Vadim stood to the side, coughing and shifting from one foot to the other. It was clear from his face that he was hoping to somehow slip into the apartment after his wife without attracting attention.
Katya was silent for a few seconds, collecting her thoughts, and then looked straight into her mother’s eyes.
“Kinship does not give the right to dispose of someone else’s. Even if it is someone else’s – from your own daughter,” she said quietly but clearly. “I do not owe you my apartment. And I am not obliged to let strangers into my life just because you married him.
– Ungrateful! – Valentina Petrovna cried out. – You will regret this! Remember my words!
Katya didn’t answer. She just stood there, holding the door open, until her mother and Vadim had collected their things and left. Only when they had disappeared into the elevator did Katya close the door and lean her back against it.
Her hands were still shaking. Katya slowly slid down the door to the floor and covered her face with her hands. Inside, a storm of resentment, anger, and strange, unfamiliar relief raged. She sat like that for a long time, not moving, listening to the silence of her apartment.
Finally, Katya stood up, went to the kitchen and poured herself some tea. An ordinary day. An ordinary morning. Only now something had changed inside her.
The next day, the phone vibrated with an incoming message. The mother sent a short text: “I left the documents with you, I’ll come and pick them up. I won’t come again.”
Katya read the message several times but did not respond. Instead, she went to the hardware store and bought an additional security lock. When she returned, she installed it on the door and turned off the intercom bell.
That evening, Katya sat on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket and looking at the city. Resentment and bitterness gradually gave way to a new feeling. For the first time, she refused her mother directly, without excuses or concessions.
“To be a bad daughter,” as Valentina Petrovna would say. But in reality, Katya simply became a person with boundaries. A person who does not allow even the closest people to manage her life and property.
The phone vibrated again. Valentina Petrovna sent a photo – she and Vadim in front of some house. “We rented a room. Without your help. Since our own daughter refused.”
Katya put the phone down without answering. So they could find a place to live. So they really didn’t need help as desperately as they tried to show.
She took a sip of tea and looked at the starry sky. For the first time in a long time, Katya felt truly calm in her apartment. In her little world, where only she decides who can come in and who can’t. Even if she has to be a wall – hard and impenetrable. Especially if the wall is for her own.
