Zhenya, don’t worry, everything will be alright, Mikhail kept trying to reassure his fiancée.
But Zhenya, her cheeks flushed either from the cold or from her nerves, put her hands on her hips and shook her head.
No, Misha, it won’t be alright. Not with your mother involved.
What did you tell me when you took me to meet her, huh?
“Don’t worry, my mom will accept whatever choice I make.”
But what’s happening right now doesn’t feel like acceptance at all. Not in any form or by any stretch of the imagination.
Zhen, just put up with it a little longer. Mom is just worried about me, give it some time and she’ll calm down.
Misha, but I don’t want to wait for things to get better. I want peace in the family right NOW.
Because our wedding is in two months, and if this keeps up, there’s really no point in marrying you at all.
What do you mean? Misha was stunned. You’ve dreamed about this for so long, and now you want to back out?
We’ve already planned everything, sent out the invitations, and even bought your dress…
Don’t you dare bring up the dress right now! Don’t you dare!
Do you know what your mom said to me? And she said it right there in the shop!
When she and my mom and I went dress shopping together! I’ve told you this already…
Zhenya, it was just about an old tradition.
No, Misha. When a woman sees her future daughter-in-law in a white dress and says THAT – it’s got nothing to do with tradition.
It’s practically a direct insult.
“Girl, maybe you should pick another color? A white dress is a symbol of purity and morality, and if I’m not mistaken, you were with other men before Misha… it just doesn’t look right,” Zhenya quoted.
That’s basically calling your future daughter-in-law a tramp! The poor shop assistants didn’t even know where to look.
Mom said she almost lost it and would have exploded right there if she hadn’t stopped herself from turning into the same kind of loudmouth.
Are you calling my mom a loudmouth right now?
And what else should I call her, Misha? She acts like an actual market vendor, the kind who just wants to pawn off their junk at a huge markup.
And yours, on the other hand, just wants to ruin the relationship.
Think about it, where did it all start?
Remember what your mom said right after we announced we wanted to get married?
She didn’t say anything bad. She just said, aren’t you kids rushing things? It would be more understandable if it was because of a baby, but like this…
And that doesn’t bother you, huh? The fact that we’d already lived together for two years before this? And dated for another year and a half?
And that your mom and dad met their first university year, and by second year they were already at city hall getting married?
Notice that I’m not judging – unlike your mom, I know that everyone lives however they choose, and nobody should butt in.
But these double standards and twisted logic are really getting on my nerves.
And what gets on my nerves is that you haven’t even become my wife yet – and already we’re having problems.
And your mom hasn’t even officially become my mother-in-law – but she’s already trying to boss me around. I honestly don’t need this at all, Misha.
I already have a boss at work whose job is to tell me what to do! And I get paid well enough there, including for putting up with his demands.
Are you hinting that I should pay you just to get you to treat my mom decently?
“No,” Evgenia exhaled, clearly irritated.
Realizing the conversation had hit a dead end, she slipped off her ring and placed it on the table.
“I’m not hinting. I’m saying straight up that I don’t need all this drama. There won’t be a wedding.”
I refuse to spend my life with someone who lets their family walk all over me—and a man who lets his mother get away with it too.
So that’s what you call love, huh—so pure and great.
Wives of the Decembrists followed their husbands to Siberian exile, but you can’t even accept my mother’s personality.
Exactly. People went to exile for love, but you can’t even protect me from your own mother.
I don’t need this kind of partner, Misha. This conversation is over.
Angry and upset, Mikhail left Evgenia’s apartment.
The ring weighed uncomfortably in his pocket, and trying to make sense of what just happened seemed completely illogical.
Evgenia always seemed so normal to him. But now, as soon as the wedding preparations began, it was like she became a completely different person.
How can she not understand? A mother is a mother, no matter what. Mikhail simply couldn’t cut her out of his life.
If his mother was one of those women who hit, abandoned, or ignored their kids, then he could understand the problem.
But his mother raised him alone, made him who he is. Without her, Misha wouldn’t have anything.
So even if she’s become a bit difficult with age…
“Hi, son. Why do you look so sad? Did something happen?” his mother greeted him at the door as soon as he got home.
“Zhenya gave the ring back. She says there’s not going to be a wedding.”
“Finally, you’re back with me, sweetheart,” his mother said with a smile, wrapping her arms around Mikhail.
Maybe these words slipped out before she realized, but they hit Misha like a bucket of cold water.
“What does that mean?” he frowned. “Did you set this whole thing up on purpose?”
“Honey, of course not. Your Zhenya’s just too sensitive. The moment things got tense, she started yelling, crying, making a scene…”
“Now think about it, how would you have built a family with her? Raised kids together?”
“Do you have any idea how many conflicts you’d run into over the years?”
“And if she reacted like that to every issue, like she did to my comment about the dress—what would that become, huh?”
“Alright, Marta, be quiet for a second,” suddenly came a familiar commanding voice from the living room.
“Grandma?” Misha smiled.
No one had mentioned from the start that his mother-in-law’s mom was visiting. “Hi, Grandma. You could’ve told me you were coming.”
“I’m not here for you. I’m here for her. Raised a daughter and now poisoning her own life— and now she’s ruining her son’s too.”
“And what’s up with you, grandson? Never saw you act this way before,” Grandma said, as blunt as ever, never worrying about hurting anyone’s feelings.
She’d always been like this, so Mikhail had long ago learned to sift through her stream of criticisms to find the point.
But right now, that point was refusing to make itself clear.
What do you mean by that?
“I’ll introduce whatever I want,” Grandma joked crudely, pulling out a pack of cheap cigarettes from her pocket. “Got a light?”
We don’t allow smoking in this house, Mom.
Oh my goodness, we’re so delicate now. Come on, grandson, let’s head outside so I can talk some sense into you—if I can find it, that is.
Out on the street, Misha was given a long lecture about how “your family now should be your wife and children, your mother moves to the category of ‘relatives.’”
And, “You should help your mom, but letting her mistreat your fiancée? Only a real fool would do that…”
And for dessert—”Just look at our neighbor Tolya, fifty years old and still single, all because his loving mother scared off every single girlfriend.”
They also broke down some situations. Seriously, telling an excited bride her white dress doesn’t suit her because she’s ‘not a girl’ anymore? Only a total jerk would say that these days.
Times have changed, men and women have changed, and what was considered a disgraceful breach of etiquette 150 years ago is just normal now.
You didn’t rush to marry Zhenya the day you met her, did you? No, you waited until you’d lived together for a while.
And before that, grandson, you didn’t exactly live like a saint. So why are you letting your mother practically call your fiancée a… right to her face?
And another thing…
When they went back to the apartment, Mikhail’s ears were burning. He retreated to his room to try and calm down, but he could still hear shouting coming from his mother’s room—Grandma had gone to talk to her.
… unless you have a history with a psychiatrist or a drug counselor, or have done time in prison… Really, what more do you want?
Your son is happy, let them figure it out on their own.
Did I say a single word when you brought Misha’s father around to meet me?
And I didn’t even like him much. After all, who enjoys some man suddenly coming around and claiming your daughter?
But I kept my mouth shut, Vika, because I have enough sense to know there comes a time when you have to let your kid go, let them make their own mistakes, and work things out themselves.
When the front door slammed, Misha came out of his room. His mom went to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of sedatives from the cupboard, and measured out a dose.
“Want some?” she asked.
Misha shook his head, slipped his hand into his pocket, found the ring, and made his way to the hallway.
If only Zhenya would forgive him…
Zhenya did forgive him. Maybe because Misha was very persuasive in his explanations and told her all about the scolding Grandma had given them.
Wedding preparations went smoothly without much drama, as did the ceremony itself.
At the wedding, Zhenya met that amazing woman—the one who had done the impossible: knocked some sense into her mama’s boy of a husband, making him much more like a real man.
She never had any more major conflicts with her new mother-in-law. Just once, when the older woman tried to say that Zhenya wasn’t ironing the sheets properly, Zhenya just smiled quietly, blushed, and replied.
I’ll tell Grandma you don’t like the way I do it—she’ll teach me differently.
No need to bother Grandma, I just wanted to offer you some advice.
Thank you. When I need your advice, I’ll definitely ask for it.
And after that, my mother-in-law never tried to give advice or take control again.
That’s the secret to family happiness—your mother-in-law should have a mom of her own, always ready to step in and sort out any brewing disagreements involving her daughter.
And not to take her side, but to make sure the real troublemakers are the ones who get an earful.
