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I was just dusting the shelf in the living room when a loud knock came at the door \u2013 so sudden that the vase on the windowsill trembled and nearly fell off. I sighed, knowing that this sound was no good omen. Volodya peeked out from the kitchen, where he was washing a cup after breakfast, and shrugged wearily.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cThey\u2019re at it again, huh?\u201d he muttered, though it was already obvious.<\/p>\n
I barely had time to approach the door before it burst open, and Valya, shoving her shoes aside, barged into the hall. A satisfied smile lit up her face, as if she\u2019d just returned from a victory parade. Her husband Fyodor followed, struggling to squeeze in with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a tired look about him. Last of all, Dimka came flying in like a whirlwind\u2014his jacket already on the floor, his shoes scattered in all directions.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cOh, Volodya! Hi, dear!\u201d Valya shrieked, throwing herself at her brother and hugging him like a bear. \u2014 \u201cWe\u2019re only here for an hour, we were just next door.\u201d<\/p>\n
I raised an eyebrow skeptically. An hour? That\u2019s what she always says.<\/p>\n
Before I could utter a word, Valya was already heading toward the kitchen, tossing over her shoulder:<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cDo you have anything to nibble on? We\u2019re starving from the road!\u201d<\/p>\n
I pursed my lips and cast a troubled glance at Volodya. He simply spread his arms as if to say that arguing was useless.<\/p>\n
The refrigerator door in the kitchen banged shut, and I hurried there\u2014but it was too late. Valya, pulling out a plate of pies that I had baked especially for our Sunday dinner, immediately grabbed three of them and shouted to Fyodor:<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cHey, come here! They\u2019ve got treats!\u201d<\/p>\n
I froze in the doorway, watching as Valya methodically laid out our delicacies on the table \u2013 a cold cut platter, cheese, salads. Everything I had lovingly prepared for the celebration instantly vanished onto the plates.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Dimka was running around the rooms, stomping loudly, and eventually reached the toy chest that Volodya had long ago set on the mezzanine\u2014thinking he\u2019d tucked it away. One by one, the little cars flew to the floor, and the clatter and laughter echoed down the entire corridor.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cLena, haven\u2019t you brewed the tea yet?\u201d Valya shouted indignantly as she began slicing the cake. \u2014 \u201cYou never wait for guests!\u201d<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath and held back the retort that was already twirling on my tongue. Volodya silently sat on a stool, leaning his elbows on his knees and massaging his temples with his fingers. I wanted to shout, but I only quietly replied:<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cI\u2019ll brew it now\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
Valya pulled out a jar of expensive olives, generously poured half of them into the salad bowl, and speared one with a fork with a crunch. I glanced at Volodya \u2013 he exhaled heavily, as if gathering the last crumbs of his patience.<\/p>\n
And in my head, one thought kept spinning: how much longer are we going to put up with this?<\/p>\n
Valya visited regularly, like clockwork. Every Sunday \u2013 to our place, the next week \u2013 to her brother Slavic\u2019s, then back to us again. It was her endless cycle of \u201cfamily invasion.\u201d And every time, the house descended into chaos. She acted like the mistress of the place, conducting an inventory of our supplies and laying out everything she found on the table. Fyodor usually flopped on the sofa with the remote in hand, channel-surfing, while Dimka wreaked havoc throughout the apartment, scattering toys and turning everything upside down.<\/p>\n
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\n\u2014 \u201cWhat a habit she has\u2026\u201d I mumbled, dropping my shoulders. \u2014 \u201cJust raiding the refrigerator and scooping out all the best stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cShe didn\u2019t even ask if it was okay,\u201d Volodya added bitterly. \u2014 \u201cAs if someone gave her the right to our food.\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t even remember the last time I spent a day off in peace. All my time went into restoring the apartment after their visits. Yesterday, for example, Valya managed to open a jar of expensive marinated mushrooms that I had been saving for my mom\u2019s anniversary. And she said with a smirk:<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cWell, you understand, at a party it\u2019ll all be eaten anyway, so why wait?\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt a heavy sense of irritation, almost anger, wash over me. Does Valya really not understand how hard it is for us? Or does she simply not want to understand?<\/p>\n
Monday morning began in tense silence. I sat in the kitchen, mechanically stirring my tea, even though it had long gone cold. Volodya appeared later \u2013 disheveled, gloomy, with dark circles under his eyes after yet another sleepless night. I knew he was still bothered by the previous day\u2019s Valya invasion and her family\u2019s antics that had exhausted us to the limit.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cLena\u2026\u201d Volodya sat down opposite me, resting his elbows on the table. \u2014 \u201cThis can\u2019t go on. I\u2019m serious. I\u2019m at my breaking point.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cAnd what are we supposed to do?\u201d I sighed. \u2014 \u201cValya will come anyway, even if we pretend to be away. They have a key \u2013 last time they didn\u2019t even knock.\u201d<\/p>\n
Volodya closed his eyes as if contemplating something.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cYou know, I\u2019ve been thinking\u2026\u201d he began. \u2014 \u201cWhat?\u201d I raised my eyebrows with interest. \u2014 \u201cWhat if we make it so that she simply doesn\u2019t want to come?\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned, trying to grasp what he was getting at. Volodya leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice:<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cWe\u2019ve gotten used to tolerating her antics because we\u2019re afraid of conflict. But what if they decide on their own not to come anymore?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cHow?\u201d I asked, puzzled.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cAn empty refrigerator.\u201d His lips twitched into a slight smile. \u2014 \u201cImagine: they come as usual, and our fridge is empty. Well, almost empty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cAnd what do we feed them?\u201d I began to understand the scheme, feeling a sly thrill at the mischievous idea.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cBuckwheat porridge. Nothing else. And\u2026 a little mustard. So it looks like a full meal.\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t help but laugh. The idea struck me not just as sensible, but almost brilliant in its simplicity.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cAre you serious? Buckwheat and mustard?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cWhy not?\u201d Volodya shrugged. \u2014 \u201cWe\u2019re not stopping them from coming. It just happens to be how things are.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cQuite accidental\u2026\u201d I smirked, imagining Valya\u2019s face when she\u2019d peek into the refrigerator.<\/p>\n
Decision made. We set to work with an enthusiasm we hadn\u2019t felt in ages. Everything in our main refrigerator \u2013 the sausage, cheese, salads, even the leftover pie \u2013 was moved to the small refrigerator in the storage room. It was old, but it worked; we usually stored our reserves and canned goods there. Now it became a hideaway for all our food.<\/p>\n
We carefully packed cookies, gingerbread, candies, and fruits into containers and sealed jars, and hid them on the far shelves. I even wrapped the jar of caviar in an old newspaper \u2013 just in case Valya suddenly decided to stick her nose in.<\/p>\n
Volodya neatly placed a pot of buckwheat on the shelf in the main refrigerator \u2013 yesterday\u2019s batch, thick and almost tasteless. Next to it, he put a jar of mustard \u2013 as if made especially for a \u201cfestive dinner.\u201d I checked once more \u2013 not a scrap of sausage or a slice of cheese remained; everything was carefully hidden.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cDo you think it\u2019ll work? At least temporarily take away their desire to come?\u201d he said thoughtfully, closing the refrigerator door.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cI hope so\u2026\u201d I smiled, feeling a strange lightness as if a weight had been lifted off our shoulders.<\/p>\n
The plan was simple and a bit crazy, but the thought of it made me feel both pleased and even a little amused. It was as if we had finally taken the first step toward setting boundaries \u2013 if not openly, then clearly enough to say: enough of intruding on our peace.<\/p>\n
Now all that was left was to wait for Sunday \u2013 the day when Valya would come again on schedule with her family.<\/p>\n
That Sunday morning, I woke with a slight anxiety. Everything seemed under control, everything ready, yet the thought of the upcoming meeting with Valya still made me nervous. I quietly slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen. Volodya was already sitting there with a book, pretending to read.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cDid you sleep at all?\u201d I asked softly as I approached the sink. \u2014 \u201cA bit,\u201d he replied without looking up. \u2014 \u201cAnd you?\u201d \u2014 \u201cNot really,\u201d I sighed.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t even an hour later when a clatter sounded in the hall \u2013 as if a pipe had burst on the landing. Valya was the first to burst through the door, glowing as if she had been eagerly awaited with a festive treat. Behind her, Fyodor squeezed in, and then \u2013 Dimka, who immediately dashed for the toy chest and noisily dumped its contents onto the floor.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cVolodya, Lena! So, are you ready for your Sunday feast?\u201d Valya didn\u2019t even bother to take off her shoes and immediately headed for the kitchen, shaking off the wet snow from her coat.<\/p>\n
Fyodor, as usual, flopped on the sofa with the remote. Meanwhile, Dimka began rifling through the toy cars, scattering them all over the floor. I instinctively adjusted the curtain on the window, trying to occupy my hands and hide my nervous tension.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cLena, put the kettle on!\u201d Valya shouted from the kitchen, as if I were her personal servant.<\/p>\n
I heard the refrigerator door creak open, and then\u2014a suspicious pause. My heart beat faster, and I couldn\u2019t help but glance into the kitchen. There stood Valya in front of the open refrigerator, having slid the lid off the pot, sniffing the buckwheat suspiciously.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cLena, where\u2019s the food?\u201d she demanded, as if I were obliged to account for it. \u2014 \u201cHere,\u201d I nodded towards the pot. \u2014 \u201cBuckwheat.\u201d<\/p>\n
Valya blinked, as if not understanding the joke, then glanced around the empty shelf and looked back into the refrigerator, as though the food might miraculously reappear.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cOnly buckwheat?\u201d she repeated, eyeing me suspiciously.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cYep,\u201d I nodded, trying to appear unruffled. \u2014 \u201cWe didn\u2019t have time for groceries this week.\u201d<\/p>\n
Volodya entered the kitchen, feigning ignorance and pretending to be surprised.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cValya, did something happen?\u201d he asked, as if nothing were amiss.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cNothing\u2026\u201d she mumbled, putting the pot back. \u2014 \u201cYou don\u2019t have any food at all?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cWell, just buckwheat,\u201d Volodya shrugged. \u2014 \u201cThis week finances are tight, we decided to get by on porridge.\u201d<\/p>\n
Valya looked at both of us skeptically, then picked up the jar of mustard from the top shelf and stared at it, as if the mustard could explain everything.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cBuckwheat with mustard?\u201d she finally blurted out. \u2014 \u201cAre you kidding?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cNo, no,\u201d Volodya waved his hand dismissively. \u2014 \u201cJust, you know, a crisis. Not really the time for delicacies.\u201d<\/p>\n
A displeased voice came from the living room \u2013 Fyodor:<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cValya, I\u2019m hungry. Let\u2019s go home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d she said irritably, pursing her lips. \u2014 \u201cWhat\u2019s the point of staying when there\u2019s not even food to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Dimka threw a tantrum \u2013 not wanting to leave, clinging to a toy tractor. Valya, waving him off, grabbed her son in frustration and practically pushed him into the corridor. The door slammed with a bang, and silence fell over the apartment. I cautiously peeked out from the kitchen, hardly believing my luck. At that moment, I felt relief.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cDid you see her face?\u201d Volodya asked, barely containing a smirk.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cIt was like she had been banished to a desert without water,\u201d I laughed. \u2014 \u201cMaybe it\u2019ll at least temporarily curb her urge to show up.\u201d<\/p>\n
We sat in the kitchen, sipping our tea and exchanging looks as if silently checking each other\u2019s mood. An unexpected calm had settled over us, as if we\u2019d finally regained control of our lives.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cIf I had known it was so easy to drive them away, I\u2019d have let the buckwheat fight,\u201d Volodya snorted.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cWell, we\u2019ll see how long the effect lasts,\u201d I smiled, feeling a warm surge of joy.<\/p>\n
A few days passed after that Sunday. Valya neither called nor appeared at the door. I kept listening for any rustle outside, but the silence felt unusually pleasant. The house was so peaceful that I began to savor every minute \u2013 not fearing the knock that might signal the return of the \u201ctraveling circus.\u201d<\/p>\n
Volodya was calm and even, it seemed, pleased. Sometimes I noticed him smirking to himself, as if replaying the scene of the empty refrigerator in his head. I tried not to wonder if I was fooling myself by enjoying this lull, but deep down I couldn\u2019t help but wonder: did we do the right thing?<\/p>\n
The phone on the kitchen table vibrated. I startled and immediately looked at the screen. It was Slavic. Volodya answered on speakerphone.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cHi, Slavic! What\u2019s up?\u201d he asked. \u2014 \u201cWell\u2026\u201d Slavic sighed, clearly irritated. \u2014 \u201cValya and Fyodor showed up at our place this weekend. I thought they\u2019d come to you, but they went straight here.\u201d \u2014 \u201cReally?\u201d Volodya shot me a quick look. \u2014 \u201cAnd what happened this time?\u201d \u2014 \u201cAs usual\u2026\u201d Slavic chuckled. \u2014 \u201cThey came, ate everything, and Dimka scattered the toys all over. And Valya complained that you supposedly had no food. She said you were practically starving because your refrigerator had nothing but buckwheat with mustard.\u201d I couldn\u2019t help but burst into laughter and covered my mouth with my hand. Volodya couldn\u2019t help but smile too.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u201cYes, it happened\u2026\u201d he replied calmly. \u2014 \u201cListen, Slavic, aren\u2019t you tired of cleaning up after them every time?\u201d \u2014 \u201cIt\u2019s almost become a habit,\u201d Slavic grumbled. \u2014 \u201cBut they\u2019re really getting on my nerves. I wish I could have a quiet weekend for once.\u201d Volodya looked at me and winked. \u2014 \u201cYou know, brother, we decided to influence Valya a little differently. We simply left in our refrigerator nothing but a pot of buckwheat and mustard. Nothing else.\u201d \u2014 \u201cNo way!\u201d Slavic laughed. \u2014 \u201cAnd what did she do?\u201d \u2014 \u201cShe got offended. But she left quickly,\u201d Volodya said. \u2014 \u201cWhy don\u2019t you try it too\u2014if only once. You might see it work.\u201d \u2014 \u201cHmm\u2026\u201d Slavic mused. \u2014 \u201cMaybe I\u2019ll actually give it a try. Thanks for the idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
When the call ended, I sat next to Volodya on the couch and shook my head: \u2014 \u201cDo you think Slavic will actually do it?\u201d \u2014 \u201cMaybe not,\u201d Volodya shrugged. \u2014 \u201cBut at least he\u2019ll think about it. And if Valya realizes that she isn\u2019t always welcomed with open arms, maybe she\u2019ll rein in her enthusiasm.\u201d We sat together for a long time, discussing plans for the next weekend. It was nice to know that our little act of resistance had finally paid off. Boundaries were set \u2013 and it seemed that the first lesson had been learned.<\/p>\n
Even though things with Valya hadn\u2019t gotten any easier, at least we had learned to protect our space. Sometimes, you just have to show that you don\u2019t have to tolerate everything\u2014even if it\u2019s family.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I was just dusting the shelf in the living room when a loud knock came at the door \u2013 so sudden that the vase on the windowsill… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24771,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24770","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n