“Lida, they’re my parents! How could you throw them out of the house?!” her husband fumed.
“This is my house, and they spoke to me like I was the help,” Lida defended herself.
“You have some strange ideas about hospitality. Guests ask for something—you do it. Especially if it’s my parents. They came all the way across town, they were tired, and you…”
“I didn’t invite them! And they knew you weren’t home. Why did they come then?”
“You couldn’t manage to receive them properly without me?”
“I did receive them properly! But your mother didn’t like that we only had black tea!”
“She drinks green tea. The store’s five minutes away. Was it really so hard to go and get some? Or were you scared to leave them alone?”
“I wasn’t scared!” Lida’s voice trembled. “I bought what she asked for. But when I came back, your mother said I got the wrong kind. And I know I remembered it right, because I don’t even know much about green tea myself!”
“Even if she was mistaken, you could’ve asked her to write down the name and gone again. My parents rarely visit—this is only the second time since our wedding.”
“Artem, I did everything you said, but it didn’t stop at the tea. Your father said he was hungry and ordered me to make dinner. I offered what was already on the stove, but they didn’t want it.”
“What did they want?” her husband frowned.
“Here, look,” she handed him a sheet of paper, filled with his father’s firm handwriting.
Artem let out a whistle.
“And you cooked all that?”
“Of course not, I don’t even know how! I told them I’m not a chef, I only cook homemade meals.”
Her husband paced the room thoughtfully.
“And then what? Mom said you were rude and kicked them out. Just because of that?”
“No. After I refused to cook their menu, they just had tea. And then your mother said they were remodeling their apartment.”
“I know,” Artem nodded.
“And she said that since I was just sitting at home doing nothing, I should help out.”
“She probably wanted your opinion on design or something?”
“That’s what I thought too. Maybe you told her I’m a designer, and she figured I could help professionally.”
“And you said no?”
“No! I said I’d be happy to do the project, pick out furniture, colors… I wouldn’t even charge anything—they’re your parents.”
“And what happened next?”
Lida covered her face with her hands as if it hurt to recall.
“‘Designer?’ Your mom smirked and glanced at your dad.”
He grunted knowingly.
“I started explaining how I could help, thinking it was a chance to get closer. I decided to forget the tea and the dinner.”
“‘College?’ she interrupted me. ‘So you don’t even have a real degree?'”
“College is an education! A prestigious one, with a state diploma—I was top of my class!”
“‘Sure you were…’ your father muttered.”
“In our family, everyone has a university degree,” your mother declared. “Me, my husband, Artem’s brother, and his wife. And my son, by the way, even did an internship abroad!”
She was clearly proud.
“And college is for losers.”
“Why?! Not everyone goes to university. I could’ve, but I got married and—”
“And now you’ll stay a nobody,” she cut me off.
I nearly choked on my tea.
“I’m not a nobody! I work, I earn money, I contribute to the family!”
“‘Contributes!’ she laughed. ‘Where’s the contribution if you can’t even host guests? Or is my son living on dumplings?'”
“I cook well!” I snapped. “Even if it’s dumplings! What’s wrong with that?”
“‘Dumplings,’ she mimicked. ‘Where did Artem find you?'”
“I’m not an object! We met at the airport!”
“Rhetorical question,” your mother sneered. “If you had a proper education, I wouldn’t have to explain the obvious.”
“If higher education makes people cruel, then I don’t want it!” I raised my chin.
“It makes people smart enough not to waste time on fools.”
I clenched my fists, trying not to explode.
“So, about the remodel,” she returned to the topic.
“If you need design advice—I’ll help.”
I decided to be professional, despite their audacity. Let them see what I can do.
“‘Advice?’ she twisted her face. ‘We take advice from people with university degrees.'”
“Then why did you come?”
“We need someone for a different job. The contractors will do the work, but someone has to clean up after them. Sweep, mop the floors, take out the trash… You understand?” She looked at me with fake innocence.
“So… you want to turn me into a cleaner?”
“‘Hire’ is a bit much. Just help, like family.”
“I think your college is good enough for that,” added your father.
I couldn’t breathe. No one had ever humiliated me like that.
“Well, if you insist, we can pay you…” your mother offered “generously.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” I hissed. “Just leave.”
“You’re refusing to help family?” she widened her eyes. “I wonder what Artem will say?”
“I doubt he’ll be pleased his wife turned away his parents,” her husband added.
“I’m not refusing to help, but you’re asking me to mop the floors when—”
“And what else are you good for?” her father cut me off.
“Out!” I pointed to the door.
“Did you think about your husband?”
They slowly gathered their things.
“I’ll tell him myself!” I slammed the door.
“They made it clear I’m nothing! That I’m only good for cleaning up after them!” Lida sobbed.
“Don’t cry,” Artem wiped her tears. “I’ll talk to them.”
The next day, when his parents came, Artem was home.
“Why did you call us, son?” came the voice from the hallway.
“Tamed your messy little wife?” his mother called loudly.
Lida clenched her jaw.
When everyone sat at the table, Artem said:
“Mom, Dad, I need to confess something.”
“Don’t tell me she’s pregnant!” his mother rolled her eyes.
“It’s not that. I lied to you.”
They froze.
“I didn’t study abroad—I dropped out of university in my second year. I’ve been working as a regular plumber.”