“Fair’s fair. You promised today, so wash them today.”
“And breakfast?”
“Also your job. And lunch, and dinner. Bake an apple cake for tonight—Masha and Seva are bringing the grandkids. Misha loves apple cake. And make some sweet cheese buns for Nastya.”
“WHAT?”
“The internet’s full of easy video recipes. Good luck, dear. I’m off to the ‘Flower Paradise’—to that ‘dream job.’”
On purpose, Viktoriya had gotten up late and skipped even a cup of tea. She wasn’t about to cave in and start cooking again. If he promised to be “the housewife” for one day, let him feel what it was like.
She walked down the spring street, breathing deep. Maybe a day in the shop wasn’t such a bad idea—an escape from the endless loop of cooking and laundry…
On the way she allowed herself a small joy: she stopped at a café, bought a delicious croissant and, rarely for her blood pressure, treated herself to an aromatic coffee.
“Mmm, that’s good.” She closed her eyes in pleasure. Her mood lifted; after that invigorating sip, life seemed bright again.
A glance at her watch—she’d lingered longer than planned. Time to run for the bus… or take a taxi.
“I’m fifty-five; don’t I deserve a comfortable ride?” she thought, ordering a car.
She entered the shop beaming—so little was needed for happiness.
But the joy was short-lived.
“Hi… where’s Nikolai?” asked Lena, the salesgirl.
“I’m covering for him today.”
“Who’ll unload the delivery?”
“The porter, I hope? There’s supposed to be a man—”
“He’s not here.”
“Where’d he go?”
“Urgent day off,” Lena shrugged.
“Then we’ll manage—box by box,” Viktoriya said, though her heart sank.
“I can’t! Are you kidding?” Lena stepped from behind the counter, revealing a big belly. “Eight months along. I’m not lifting anything—I have to think of my health!”
Viktoriya went to inspect the shipment and froze. The van was packed with huge crates stuffed with flowers and décor—each one so heavy they really needed a whole crew.
“Well, sign here,” the hefty driver grunted, obviously not about to help. Viktoriya looked at the flowers, then at Lena… and made a decision.
Meanwhile, back home.
Nikolai had finally washed the dishes and was exhausted.
“Should’ve bought a dishwasher—stick ’em in dirty, pull ’em out clean. Done.”
Well, I did it, he thought. Time to rest. He turned on his favorite show and accidentally nodded off. A doorbell jolt woke him—Masha had brought the grandkids.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked.
“Uh… well…” Nikolai felt ashamed to admit his wife was working for him. How could he explain that delicate issue—personality clash with Aunt Valya?
“And you have no lunch ready?!”
He spread his hands. He’d slept half the day and cooked nothing. After living with Viktoriya so long, he’d even forgotten how to boil dumplings.
“I asked Mom to bake an apple cake! And cheese buns!” Masha scowled. “This is irresponsible! The kids expected Grandma’s table full!”
“Cook it yourself; I’m hungry too,” Nikolai snapped.
They started bickering over who’d take the stove.
“Mom, Grandpa, Grandma’s calling!” little Nastya waved the phone.
“She remembered us,” Masha muttered, grabbing it. “Hi, Mom? I—”
“Hello, Masha. It’s Valentina.”
“Hello, Aunt Valya…” Masha’s tone flipped to polite.
“Something’s wrong with Viktoriya. Her blood pressure shot up.”
“She’s with you?”
“She worked Nikolai’s shift, unloading a van. She got dizzy from exhaustion and collapsed… It’s bad.”
“Mommy… Dad! You made her go to work? How could you?” Masha burst into tears.
“You’ve all driven her into the ground! No shame, no conscience!” Valentina scolded while Masha wept, unsure whether she pitied herself or her mother more.
“Exactly—drove her!” Nikolai chimed in, as if he hadn’t sent his wife to cover for him.
“I want Grandma!” Misha sobbed.
“She needs care. Come here. We called a doctor, but Vika refused the hospital; she wants to go home,” Valentina said.
“Yes… of course… we’re on our way,” Masha agreed, and the whole family rushed over.
Viktoriya was lying on Valentina’s couch when they arrived.
“How are you, Mom?”
“Not great… but I’ll be better at home,” she whispered.
“Feed her warm meals, keep her calm, no stress,” Valentina instructed. “And take your kids—their grandma is not a live-in nanny.”
“For how long?” Nikolai asked.
“Till Monday.”
“Well, that’s not so bad,” he smiled.
“And after that… I bought her a month-long stay at a health resort.”
“A month?!” the family chorused.
“I’d like a resort too,” Nikolai grumbled.
“Then show up for work Monday—you’ve got wages to earn back. Those are the wages I used to buy your wife’s ticket.”
Nikolai’s face went whiter than snow. Viktoriya almost laughed into her fist, but remembered she was “ill” and kept a pained expression. Valentina winked—they shared a little secret no one else must learn.
Here’s what had really happened, a few hours earlier.
At the shop, realizing she couldn’t lift the crates, Viktoriya had phoned the owner—her friend Valentina—and explained.
“Got it. I’m coming,” Valya said. “Meanwhile, drop by the plumbing store next door—Ruslan’s a good kid, sometimes helps us. Offer him some cash; he won’t refuse.”
Viktoriya did. Ruslan unloaded the whole shipment and even helped fill the buckets and display stands. Lena had to pitch in, trimming and prepping stems—nothing harmful, Viktoriya assured her.
“Well done!” Valentina praised when she arrived. “You can see who’s used to working, not shirking.”
After hugs, the two women slipped into Valya’s office while Lena handled customers. Viktoriya poured out her troubles: the endless errands, the aching legs, the roller-coaster blood pressure.
“They’ve all climbed onto your back with no shame,” Valentina said.
“I don’t know. It’s not hard for me, but by evening I could howl like a wolf. I’m not young anymore…”
“You can say no—if you choose.”
“How?”
“Whose kids are those? Theirs or yours? And your precious husband—when did he last pamper you?”
Viktoriya had no answer.
“Listen, I have a plan to teach them to value you.” Valentina laid it out. Viktoriya protested, but Valya warned: “Either you agree now, or sooner or later they’ll carry you out feet first.” She told a few sad true stories of women who worked themselves into an early grave. Viktoriya was scared. She realized she had to stop in time—and agreed.
So the following Monday the whole family saw Viktoriya off to the sanatorium.
“Rest, Mom… we’ll manage,” Masha waved. After talking with Valentina, she’d realized she’d gone too far, loading her mother with endless chores. Nikolai drew no such conclusions, but left alone for a month he relearned how to boil dumplings, wash dishes, and even run the washing machine.
All in all, Valentina’s plan worked. Viktoriya rested, regained her strength—and afterwards, it was up to her to decide whether to let them “ride her” again or finally take the saddle off.
