“Ksenia Nikolaevna, I talked it over with Kolya, and we’ve decided we won’t be giving Dasha money as a gift.”
“What do you mean?” Her mother-in-law’s eyebrows shot up. “The girl is turning twenty, and money is the best present at that age!”
“We want to give her a keepsake instead.”
“To hell with your keepsakes! We only accept money!” her mother-in-law shouted, slamming her palm on the table.
Kolya nearly choked on his juice. Tanya clenched her napkin under the table.
“Mom, please don’t,” he tried to step in.
“Be quiet! Are you under your wife’s thumb as always?” his mother turned to look at her son. “In our family, we’ve always given money! It’s tradition!”
“Maybe it’s time to change traditions,” Tanya tried to keep her voice calm.
“Listen to her!” Ksenia Nikolaevna threw up her hands. “Just two years in the family and already giving orders!”
Mom, we should probably go.
That dinner was just another round in the never-ending war. Ksenia Nikolaevna had disliked Tanya from day one. “She’s too ordinary for my Kolya,” she had declared, not even bothering to lower her voice.
The wedding was a scene—her mother-in-law demanded a restaurant, while Tanya wanted a modest ceremony. Kolya was caught between them, and in the end, pleased no one.
After the wedding, the real opposition began. Her mother-in-law would show up at their apartment unannounced, rearrange the furniture, complain about the food, and check for dust in the corners with her white handkerchief.
“I’m just trying to teach you how to be a good wife,” she would say whenever she found dust on top of the wardrobe.
And then there was Dasha—the golden child in her mother’s eyes. “Dashenka would never wear that,” “Dashenka cooks better,” “Dashenka is so clever, unlike some people.”
One day, Tanya accidentally saw a message from her mother-in-law to her husband: “Kolya, it’s not too late to fix all this, she’s not the one for you.” Tanya never brought it up with Kolya—it hurt too much.
In three years of marriage, Tanya had learned to set boundaries. Now, she closed the door in the face of the unwanted guest, replied to barbed comments, and no longer apologized for just being herself. And now, Dasha’s birthday had become the latest battlefield.
The front door slammed. Kolya and Tanya returned to their apartment after dinner at his mother’s. The tension from the table came home with them.
“Why did you have to do that?” Kolya tossed his keys onto the shelf.
“Me?” Tanya raised her eyebrows. “Your mother was the one shouting loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”
“You know perfectly well how things are done in our family. What’s so wrong with giving money?”
Tanya took off her coat and hung it on the rack. She was boiling inside, but tried to keep her cool.
“I don’t like that every family celebration turns into some sort of cash transaction. It’s like we’re business partners, not relatives.”
“Come on,” Kolya flopped onto the couch. “It’s just easier this way. Dasha gets what she wants, instead of another figurine she’ll stuff in a drawer.”
“Are you sure you know what your sister really wants? Have you even talked to her about her interests?”
“Don’t start,” her husband winced. “We have enough problems as it is.”
Tanya sat down across from him, searching his face.
“Kolya, I’ve put up with a lot from your mother. But I won’t just follow orders and give money just because ‘that’s how it’s done.'”
— You’re always going against the flow. Is it really that hard to compromise sometimes?
— Are you okay with your mother yelling at me in front of everyone? — Tanya felt a surge of resentment building in her chest.
— You know what she’s like. Was it really worth stirring things up?
— So I’m just supposed to give in all my life?
— Don’t be dramatic. Just give her the money, that’s it. I’m tired of all this, — Kolya turned on the TV, making it clear the conversation was over.
Tanya stared at her husband as he hid from the family conflict behind the news. Tears welled up in her eyes. She quietly got up and walked into the kitchen. For the first time, she felt like leaving it all behind and going to her parents.
The next day, Tanya went out to choose a present. It was quiet in the bookstore. She sifted through greeting cards, trying to find something unique. Dasha was studying to be a designer—maybe she could find something with beautiful graphics?
— Tanya? — came a voice from behind her.
She turned around and saw Dasha—a tall girl with dark hair messily tied up in a bun.
— What a coincidence running into you! — Tanya smiled. — When did you arrive?
— Last night. Mom said you guys stopped by.
— Yes, it was… an interesting dinner, — Tanya said awkwardly.
Dasha smirked:
— I’ve already heard my mom’s version. Now I want yours.
They settled into a nearby café. Tanya stirred her latte with a spoon, searching for the right words.
— The thing is, I didn’t want to just give you money. I wanted to pick something special.
— I thought you two argued about politics, — Dasha laughed. — Mom always dramatizes everything.
— She insists on traditions.
— You know, I hate those envelopes with money, — Dasha lowered her voice. — Every year it’s the same thing. Feels like they just buy me off.
Tanya looked at the girl in surprise.
— Really? But your mom said…
— My mom says a lot of things for others, — Dasha replied with a bitter half-smile. — She even drove my boyfriend away because he was ‘not our type’.
— I didn’t know that, — Tanya started to feel a growing fondness for Dasha’s honesty.
— Forgive her. She’s controlled everything her whole life. I’m just glad Kolya has you—you’re not someone people can just mold out of clay.
The day before the celebration, Tanya found the perfect gift—a vintage silver brooch in the shape of an artist’s palette. The moment she saw it in the antique shop, she remembered Dasha’s story about her dream to become a jewelry designer.
At home, Tanya carefully wrapped the brooch in a velvet box. The phone rang—it was Ksenia Nikolaevna.
— Tanya, I hope you’ve come to your senses about the present?
— We’ve already chosen, thank you.
— Kolya told me you spent more on some little trinket than you were going to give in cash, — her mother-in-law’s voice was edged with irritation.
Tanya glanced at her husband. He dropped his eyes.
— That’s none of your business, — she answered firmly.
— How rude! And after we welcomed you into the family!
— See you tomorrow, Ksenia Nikolaevna.
That evening, Kolya stayed silent, glued to his phone. Tanya felt the growing distance between them.
— Do you have to ruin your relationship with my mom? — he finally asked.
— And do you have to report every detail of our lives to her?
Kolya went to sleep on the couch. Tomorrow was going to be a tough day.
Ksenia Nikolaevna’s apartment felt like a battlefield, but instead of weapons there were fake smiles and insincere compliments. The husband’s relatives threw sideways glances at Tanya—the rumors of her ‘rebellion’ had already spread.
“Happy birthday!” Tanya hugged Dasha, handing her a small package.
Ksenia Nikolaevna was instantly by their side.
“What’s that? I hope it’s just an addition to the main gift?”
Dasha curiously unwrapped the package. Her eyes widened.
“Oh my god, is this… Where did you find it?” she took out the brooch, turning it under the chandelier’s light.
“In an antique shop. The seller told me it’s a piece from the early 20th century.”
“That’s amazing!” Dasha pressed the gift to her chest. “I’m actually working on a project about the history of jewelry design!”
Ksenia Nikolaevna pressed her lips together.
“And where’s the envelope? Dasha needs money for her courses.”
“Mom, stop it,” Dasha grimaced. “This brooch is worth more than all your envelopes combined.”
“Don’t you dare talk back to me!”
“I’m not, I just…” Dasha fell silent under her mother’s piercing look.
Tanya felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment for her mother-in-law. Kolya nervously adjusted his tie, avoiding eye contact.
“Everyone to the table, now!” Ksenia Nikolaevna barked, trying to regain control.
During dinner, every toast turned into a reminder about ‘family traditions.’ Dasha sat with the brooch pinned to her dress, occasionally looking gratefully at Tanya.
The air at the table grew stuffy. Ksenia Nikolaevna announced another toast, eyeing the brooch glittering on Dasha’s dress.
“And now, as tradition goes,” she cleared her throat, “the birthday girl should read out the list of gifts.”
Dasha reluctantly picked up a notebook.
“Do I have to?”
“Of course!” her mother snapped. “We always do this.”
Dasha began monotonously listing off the amounts. Tanya watched the faces of the guests—boredom, feigned interest, some checking their phones under the table.
“From Aunt Vera—five thousand, from Uncle Sasha and Aunt Nina—seven…”
“Louder, sweetheart, Uncle Borya can’t hear you,” Ksenia Nikolaevna directed the process.
When the list was finished, the mother-in-law coughed meaningfully:
“And from some people,” she shot a look at Tanya, “just an old trinket. It’s not good to be so stingy.”
Kolya flinched. Tanya felt something break inside her.
“Mom!” Dasha protested.
“What? I’m just telling the truth.”
Tanya stood up, not waiting for support from her husband.
“May I propose a toast?”
A murmur spread throughout the room. She raised her glass:
“Dasha, I want to wish you courage. The courage to stay true to yourself, even when others try to force you into their mold. This brooch isn’t just jewelry. It’s a reminder that sometimes you need to break the rules to be happy.”
“Enough with the lectures!” the mother-in-law interrupted. “No one asked you!”
“It’s not a lecture,” Tanya answered calmly. “It’s a protest against your suffocating traditions. Against these lists and sums, like we’re at a business meeting.”
“You won’t be doing this in my house…”
“I won’t be coming to your house anymore,” Tanya set her glass down. “And I’m taking my husband with me.”
She turned towards the door. Kolya stared with wide eyes.
“Tanya’s right,” Dasha suddenly spoke up. “I’m twenty years old, and I’m scared to admit that I really hate these envelopes full of money!”
Ksenia Nikolaevna turned pale. The relatives froze, forks suspended in mid-air.
“Let’s go, Kolya,” Tanya grabbed her bag. “Make your choice. It’s now or never.”
He slowly stood up, adjusting his tie. He looked first at his mother, then at his wife. With determination, he walked over to Tanya.
“Mom, we all need to learn how to respect each other’s choices.”
Outside, Tanya took a deep breath. Kolya squeezed her hand and quietly said:
“I’m sorry I stayed silent for so long.”
Behind them, footsteps echoed. Dasha dashed out of the building, clutching a brooch in her hand.
“Can I come with you? Even if it’s just for a little while?”
The three of them walked together—through the spring courtyard, leaving behind the stifling apartment with its suffocating rules and needless traditions.
“They’ll come to their senses and come back,” Ksenia Nikolaevna assured the guests.
Of course, no one planned on going back. An hour later, the few remaining relatives went their separate ways, and the mother-in-law was left alone, seething with anger and resentment.
