“Mike, I do love your mother—but this can’t continue. Be a man and handle it,” Rita said, and she was practically shaking with outrage.
It was a bright, sunny morning in their third-floor apartment—an old building, but well kept. Rita, slim and energetic with lively eyes, was making breakfast in their small, cozy kitchen. Plates of omelet and fresh vegetables were already on the table, and the kettle was boiling beside them. Her husband Mikhail, tall and unhurried, walked in.
“Good morning, my love,” he said, kissing her cheek as he sat down. “Breakfast smells heavenly.”
“Morning, Mike,” Rita smiled. “Sleep okay?”
“Like a baby,” he said, pouring tea. “What are we doing this weekend? Didn’t you mention seeing your parents?”
“Yes,” Rita replied, setting a cup in front of him. “Mom called and invited us for lunch. Afterward we can all take a walk in the park. We haven’t visited in a while.”
“Great,” Mikhail nodded. “I’m always happy to see your parents. They’re kind and welcoming—I feel at home with them.”
“I really am lucky,” Rita said, sitting across from him and starting to eat. “How’s your mom? Has she called recently?”
“She’s fine,” Mikhail sighed. “We spoke a couple of days ago—said everything’s okay. But no word from my sister. She’s probably running around with some new boyfriend again.”
“She’s reckless,” Rita shook her head. “It’s always a new mess. You said she hasn’t been in touch for weeks?”
“That’s typical,” Mikhail frowned. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s gotten herself into trouble again.”
“Maybe you should call her,” Rita suggested. “Just to see what’s going on.”
“I’ll try, but odds are she won’t answer,” he said, setting down his fork and grabbing his phone. “It’s always like this with her.”
“Let’s not ruin the mood,” Rita said, taking his hand. “Let’s focus on the good.”
“You’re right,” Mikhail smiled. “We should enjoy every moment. You’re the smart one.”
That Saturday, they went to Rita’s parents. Lunch was warm and friendly. Anna and Sergey—Rita’s mother and father—were thrilled to see their daughter and son-in-law. They talked about news, summer plans, and laughed while remembering old stories.
“Mike, you’re in great shape as always,” Sergey said, pouring tea for everyone. “Work not too demanding?”
“Thanks, Sergey Petrovich,” Mikhail smiled. “I’m managing. How are things with you?”
“All good,” Anna said, looking at her daughter. “We just miss Rita. She doesn’t visit often.”
“I’ll come more, Mom,” Rita promised, squeezing her mother’s hand. “Work’s been taking up a lot of time.”
A few days passed, and life rolled on as usual. Mikhail and Rita enjoyed warm summer evenings—walks in the park, dinners on the balcony. Then one evening the doorbell rang, and everything changed.
Mikhail had been on the sofa with his laptop. He stood up and went to open the door.
“Mom?!” he blurted out when he saw his mother standing there with a suitcase. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Misha,” she said gently, adjusting her glasses. “Sorry I’m dropping in like this. They started renovations in my apartment, and I thought… maybe I could stay with you for a while?”
“Of course, Mom, come in,” Mikhail said quickly, taking her suitcase and letting her inside. “Why didn’t you tell us ahead of time?”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” she replied, stepping into the living room. “But honestly, I’m exhausted from the noise and all the mess.”
Rita heard the voices, came out of the kitchen, and smiled when she saw her mother-in-law.
“Olga Ivanovna! What a surprise!” Rita hugged her. “Of course you can stay. We’re always happy to have you.”
“Thank you, Rita, you’re so kind,” Olga Ivanovna said, sitting down with a slightly embarrassed look. “I hope I won’t be in the way.”\
“What are you talking about, Mom?” Mikhail said, placing the suitcase by the wall. “You’re family. Let’s eat—Rita made cutlets.”
With Olga Ivanovna living with them, their routine shifted. Day after day, the atmosphere in the apartment grew softer, almost warmer. They cooked together, talked about plans, even watched TV series in the evenings. Rita began to feel like true harmony had finally settled in their home.
One night after dinner, while everyone was sitting in the living room, Rita suggested casually:
“Olga Ivanovna… what if you stayed here permanently? After the renovation, you could rent your apartment out, and you’d always be with us.”
Olga Ivanovna suddenly went pale and started trembling.
“Oh, Rita… that’s so unexpected,” she said, nervously tugging at the edge of the tablecloth. “I need to think about it.”
Mikhail and Rita exchanged a quick look. Her reaction didn’t feel normal.
“Of course, Mom,” Mikhail said quickly, trying to smooth it over. “No pressure. Just an idea. You know we’re always glad to have you.”
“Yes, yes,” Olga Ivanovna nodded, forcing composure. “I really appreciate your care.”
After dinner, Olga Ivanovna went to her room. Rita and Mikhail stayed in the kitchen, clearing the table.
“Did you see how strange that was?” Rita asked, looking at her husband.
“Yeah,” Mikhail said, drying a plate. “I’ve never seen her that tense. Something is definitely wrong.”
“You think it’s really because of renovations?” Rita wondered. “Sometimes contractors cheat older people.”
“Maybe,” Mikhail said, rubbing his chin. “But Mom wouldn’t usually let anyone fool her. She’s always been careful.”
“We can go this weekend and see for ourselves,” Rita decided. “If something’s off, we’ll deal with it.”
“Good plan,” Mikhail smiled. “Let’s not warn her. No need to make her anxious. We’ll just go and look.”
Saturday morning, Rita and Mikhail slipped out quietly so they wouldn’t wake Olga Ivanovna. They went up to her floor and stopped at her door.
“So… ready?” Mikhail asked.
“Ready,” Rita nodded, squeezing his hand. “Let’s go.”
They knocked—no answer. Mikhail pulled out his key and unlocked the door.
What they saw in the living room shocked them.
On the floor, among empty bottles and cigarette butts, sat Mikhail’s sister with three men, drinking.
“What is going on here?!” Mikhail demanded, horrified.
His sister wasn’t embarrassed at all. She grinned boldly and raised her bottle.
“See, brother? We’re ‘doing repairs.’ And these are my ‘renovators,’” she said, nodding toward her drinking buddies. “And by the way, the apartment is mine now. Mom signed it over to me. So get out.”
Mikhail froze, unable to believe his ears. His voice shook with anger and disappointment.
“What are you talking about?!” he shouted. “Where are the repairs? And what are you even doing here?”
“Repairs?” she laughed lazily. “I changed my mind. It’s my place now, so I’ll renovate if I feel like it, or I won’t. And you have no right to be here.”
Rita felt fury boil inside her. She clenched her fists and stepped forward.
“You shameless girl—” she started, then forced herself to stop. “Mike, we need to talk to your mother. Something is clearly not right.”
Still stunned, Mikhail nodded. Arguing with his sister was pointless. They needed to talk to his mother.
“Yes,” he said, trying to calm down. “We’re talking to Mom. This is insane.”
They left the apartment, leaving his sister and her friends behind. On the drive home, Mikhail couldn’t find the words. He just kept repeating, gripping the steering wheel:
“How could she do this? Mom would never just give her the apartment…”
Back home, Olga Ivanovna sat at the kitchen table, picking at the edge of a napkin. Rita and Mikhail stood across from her, exchanging tense glances. Rita took the lead.
“So you signed your apartment over to your daughter—and then came to live with us?” she asked, staring straight at her mother-in-law.
Olga Ivanovna lowered her head; her hands began to shake.
“Rita… Misha…” she started quietly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
She took a deep breath and continued:
“Your sister came back after disappearing for a month—broken, in pieces. She said her boyfriend dumped her, threw her out like a stray. I tried to support her. She kept saying that if she had her own apartment, she’d finally be happy—like you two.”
Mikhail and Rita listened in silence, stunned by the turn of events.
“Then she began talking about renovations,” Olga Ivanovna went on. “She said it would be comfortable for both of us. I agreed—and I gave her almost all my savings. She told me she’d stay in the apartment during the renovation to supervise the workers. And then she demanded I transfer the apartment into her name so she could ‘officially’ manage everything as the owner.”
Mikhail frowned.
“Mom… that sounds suspicious. You couldn’t have missed the trap.”
Olga Ivanovna sniffled.
“I know, Misha… but she’s my daughter. How could I not believe her? I thought she wanted to make things better for us.”
Rita was burning with anger, but she tried to hold herself together.
“That’s why I moved in with you,” Olga Ivanovna continued. “I called her every day. She kept saying the renovation was going on, just taking longer… that they needed more money. And then she told me the apartment was hers now—and I should stay with you. She said she needed to ‘fix her personal life.’”
Tears filled Olga Ivanovna’s eyes.
“She kicked me out, Misha,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Rita couldn’t keep the fury in anymore.
“This is unbelievable!” she said, clenching her fists. “How could she do that to you, Olga Ivanovna?”
Mikhail forced himself to stay calm.
“Mom, we’ll deal with it. Don’t worry.”
Rita hugged her mother-in-law, trying to comfort her.
“We’re not letting this go.”
Mikhail nodded.
“Tomorrow we go to a lawyer,” he said. “We’ll find out what can be done to reverse the transfer. And if the lawyer can’t help—” he slammed his fist on the table, “—then as her older brother, I’ll handle it myself.”
Still crying, Olga Ivanovna thanked them for supporting her.
“Thank you, kids… I’ve been so terrified. I’m afraid she’ll trick me again.”
“Don’t worry,” Rita said softly. “We’ll do everything we can to protect you and get that apartment back.”
Three weeks passed while they fought to have the deed of gift annulled. The situation was complicated, but with a lawyer’s help and their stubborn determination, the case was moving in the right direction.
Olga Ivanovna slowly began to believe things might turn out okay. Now they were headed for the final step.
That morning, Mikhail and Rita drove Olga Ivanovna to the apartment—where real renovations were finally happening. They followed familiar streets and stopped at the building where this whole story had begun.
“What do you think, Mom?” Rita smiled. “Will you like the new interior?”
“Of course, my son,” Olga Ivanovna replied, still nervous. “I just want everything to be honest and fair.”
They went upstairs and entered the apartment. The foreman greeted them—a tall man with a friendly face and a confident manner.
“Good morning,” he said. “Everything’s on schedule. The renovation will be finished in a week.”
“Thank you,” Mikhail said, looking around. “Glad to hear it. And how’s your apprentice—behaving himself?”
The foreman smirked and nodded toward one of the workers.
Olga Ivanovna froze. In the dirty construction overalls, dusted with cement, she recognized her daughter.
“Lena?!” she gasped, unable to believe her eyes.
Lena lifted her head. There was no trace of her old arrogance. She looked tired—and changed.
“Hi, Mom,” she said quietly, dropping her gaze.
The foreman stepped toward Mikhail and joked with a grin:
“Work therapy is almost complete. The patient is nearly reformed.”
Everyone laughed, understanding it hadn’t been easy—but the results were obvious. Olga Ivanovna didn’t know what to say. Her eyes shone with gratitude and hope.
“Thank you,” she finally said. “I’m so glad things are getting better.”
Mikhail and Rita hugged her, feeling that justice had won. And Lena—despite everything—had finally begun the road to becoming a different person.
As they were leaving, Rita turned to Mikhail with a smile.
“Mike,” she asked, “how did you get her to work?”
Mikhail laughed, remembering the conversation.
“I told her that if she didn’t get her act together, I’d yank her ears and cut her off for life. Looks like that did the trick.”
Rita laughed too, feeling that their family had come out stronger after the storm.
They knew there would be plenty of happiness ahead, and now they could enjoy each moment—because together, they could get through anything.
I hope you enjoyed the story. Let’s talk about the characters in the comments.
