“Do it yourself then,” Gleb muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Mum, you had Zhenya for yourselves, not for me. You deal with him. I need sleep before uni.”
“Gleb, love, I rarely ask. Just this once, take him to school. Its his first dayall the other kids will have their parents there…”
“Exactly. Parents,” Gleb cut her off. “Where were mine at my assemblies? Always with the baby. Let him go alonehe wont crumble.”
“It wasnt alwaysjust a couple of times! We didnt mean to…”
“Well, now its just a couple of times for him too,” Gleb said flatly, sipping his tea.
Marina faltered. She hadnt expected such defiance. After all, they fed him, clothed himyet he refused to lift a finger for the family.
“Listen,” she began, frowning. “You live in this house. In a family, we help each other. Your dad and I support youpocket money, meals, cleaning, even your room sometimes. The least you could do is help back.”
“I never asked you to clean my room. And I dont need your money. Im eighteennot a little boy, not a babysitter. My feelings should count too.”
With that, he grabbed his mug and stalked off, leaving Marina alone. A weight settled in her chestunresolved, gnawing. Worse still, the creeping thought: *When did he become so selfish?*
Her first marriage had been a disaster. Glebs father never grew upcontent to sprawl on the sofa, glued to his phone or games, barely contributing. Hed worked now and then, but his wages barely covered his own expenses. Eventually, Marina gave up. She filed for divorce and moved back in with her mum.
By the time she married Andrew, Gleb was fiveyoung enough to accept a new father. Andrew bonded with him quickly, slipping into the role with ease.
Then, when Gleb was ten, Zhenya was born. That was when things began to unravel, though Marina hadnt noticed.
Glebs first solo school assembly came then. Postpartum exhaustion left Marina bedridden; Andrew was working, and grandparents were too farsome in another city, others at their cottage.
“Sweetheart, its justwell, you see how things are,” shed said guiltily. “Youre a big boy now, youll manage, wont you?”
“I see,” Gleb had sighed. “Fine. Im not a kid anymore.”
Back then, shed thought nothing of it. Maybe he was upset, but he went, never complained. Turns out, hed remembered.
Three years later, it happened again. This time, Zhenya had caught something at nurseryhe was always ill. Once, he even brought home chickenpox, right before Glebs class trip to London. Gleb had to stay home.
“Mum, I get it, but Im sick of catching his germs. Cant you at least quarantine him?” hed snapped as she dabbed calamine lotion on his spots.
“Gleb, were a family,” shed sighed. “Where he is, I am. I cook, I cleanwe cant just avoid each other.”
She understood his frustration. Every time Zhenya fell ill, Gleb did too. But to her, it was just life.
Soon, he began resisting choresdelaying, doing them half-heartedly, forcing her to step in. She blamed it on teenage rebellion, even as tensions grew.
“Why should I clean the lounge when I never use it? Thats your and Zhenyas messyou deal with it,” hed once declared.
“You use the kitchen,” shed shot back. “And I clean it. And cook, incidentally.”
“You wipe every droplet off the sink. If I lived alone, I wouldnt bother. You want it spotless*you* do it.”
Sometimes she forced him to help. Sometimes she let it slidepeace over pride. And now, here they were.
No one could take Zhenya to his first day. Grandparents were distant as ever, Andrew was away on business, and Marinas boss refused her time off. Gleb, free that day, outright refused to step in.
What now?
First, she called Andrew.
“Right. Wants to be an adult, does he? Fine. When Im back, well talk. If he wants independence, he can have it,” Andrew said grimly.
“Andrew, dont be harshwere losing him as it is. Push too hard, and hell leave for good. Then what?”
“Let him. See how he manages without Dad, give me a lift or Mum, pick up my parcel. We never say no when he needs help.”
Marina sighed. He wasnt wrong, but she feared Andrews stubbornness. He loved Gleb, but ultimatums were his way.
In the end, her friend Olivia saved the daytaking Zhenya to school, even treating him to the park afterward. Not the same as parents, but something.
“Liv, youre a lifesaver,” Marina gushed later, fetching Zhenya. “Come in for tea, at least.”
“Dont mention it. Youve covered for me before. Mums have to stick together,” Olivia smiled.
Over tea, Marina confessed her worries. Olivia, only twenty-six, remembered teenage resentment well.
“Honestly? I get Gleb,” Olivia admitted. “I was my parents built-in babysittertwo younger sisters. Youre pushing too hard. Of course he wont scrub floors if he doesnt see the point. And Zhenya *was* your choice. ButI get you too. Family should help.”
“Im not pushing! I just want fair shares.”
“Fair to *you*. To him, its nagging over pointless choresand a brother he didnt ask for. I felt the same.”
“So what do I do? Andrews talking about kicking him out!”
“Thats one idea. But really, two options: cut off all helpcook just for yourselves, go cold turkeyor let him go. Not abandon him, but rent him a flat. Let him taste real life.”
“What if he drops out? Or vanishes?”
“Risk either way. But if he wants to bolt, he will. I married young to escape mine. Better we parted before resentment built.”
Marina pondered it. When Andrew returned, they rented Gleb a flattwo streets over, two months paid. They stocked the fridge, cleaned, handed him the keys.
“Right. Kicking me out to prove a point,” he mutteredbut took the keys. “You know I cant balance this with uni.”
“Not kicking you out. Youre our son. We love youyoure always welcome,” Andrew said. “But as a guest, since you wont live *with* us.”
“Who said I wont?”
“Living together means give and take. You takeyou give back. Right now, its one-sided. Weve paid rent, left you food. After thatyoure on your own. Help, or handle it.”
Grumbling, Gleb packed and left. For a month, he barely spokeshort answers to Marinas calls. She only knew he was home by his lit window.
Then, slowly, contact resumed. Questions: *How do I clean the oven? What detergent for whites?* Once: *How do I make soup?* She invited him over, showed him, fed him, sent him back with groceries.
“We miss you,” she said as he left.
He didnt reply. Just hugged her tight.
By month three, the rent ran out. Gleb managedhow, she didnt know. Then, one evening, he said they needed to talk.
“I want to come back,” he said. “But properly. Zhenyas your responsibility, not mine.”
Before, shed have argued. Now, she saw his point. He had a right to his stance. But not to shirk all duties.
“Hes still your brother,” Andrew grumbled.
“Boys, enough,” Marina cut in. “Zhenya *is* oursGlebs right. He doesnt have to help with him. But house chores are non-negotiable if we share space.”
Gleb scowled, arms crossedthen gave a slow, reluctant nod.
“New rules. You clean the bathroom weekly, mop the hall every other day, dust the lounge monthly. Take turns vacuuming. Your rooms yourswe wont touch it. And wash your own dishes. The rest is on us.”
The tension dissolved. Gleb smiled, shoulders relaxing.
“Deal,” he said. “Might even cook sometimes. Easier than doing it solo.”
That evening, they ate togetherproperlyfor the first time in months. Just mashed potatoes and burgers, but to Marina, it tasted divine. No bitterness, no grudges.
*Hes finally
