The neighbors were redecorating. They were drilling and chiseling from morning till night. It took me two days. I have a three-month-old baby in my arms, who does not sleep well because of the drill and drills. I called my husband, warned him that I will go to his mother while the neighbor’s repairs. They promised to do it in a few weeks.
When I got married, I warned my mom right away that I might be back. So they wouldn’t count on my room too much. Mom grimaced then:
– In general, I don’t understand why children inherit equally with their husbands. My father and I had gained an apartment, why did I have to share it with you?
To avoid questions: the apartment was my father’s, pre-marital. And he and mom didn’t get married right away, but only when I was 10 years old. So inheritance was received by everyone in equal shares: me, mom and my brother. I suggested that my brother give our shares to my mom:
– We’re young, we’ll make more. And it was the last thing to divide my mother’s apartment. My brother refused, but my mother clung to my words:
– You’re right, if your brother refuses, give me your share, it’ll be quieter for me. I would have given me my share if my mother hadn’t started drinking when she was a widow. And everyone knows that such people with real estate are sweet pieces for all sorts of shady characters. Even if not all of mom’s apartment would have been, but 2 rooms in a 3-bedroom apartment is not a bad capital either. The further I got, the worse it got.
Mom started bringing people into the apartment. No gifts were out of the question. And then I got married. How to leave her alone? My brother and I consulted, and he and his wife decided to move in with my mother, to keep her in line somehow. I moved in with my husband, and my brother and his wife moved in with my mother. Sometimes I came to visit. Mom seemed to have picked up her mind: she found a job, and she started drinking a lot less. She even got a boyfriend.
My brother became a father, and now my nephew is one and eight months old. So they lived like this: Mom lived in one room, my brother and his wife in the second room, and then the three of them with the baby, and the third room, which was mine, was empty. I paid my part of the utility bill for housing maintenance. The meters were paid by those who used the utilities. That is – not me. I called my mom, warned her that I was coming with the baby. I had the furniture there, a bed would have been enough for me and my daughter. We gathered the essentials, called a cab and drove off.
They weren’t expecting me back at the apartment: my furniture was gone, the room had been renovated to look like a nursery. My mother, with a disgruntled look asked:
– What are you doing here? You should have stayed at home, the repair is not the end of the world. You could have gone for a walk with the baby, let my granddaughter sleep outside.
– She does not sleep in a baby carriage, only next to me. What’s going on here? Who gave me the right to throw away my things?
– Why did you scream? What a hostess you’ve got. You see, we’ve prepared a nursery for our grandson. We’ll move him soon. Your brother’s working late. Rachel’s coming back from her walk with her grandson, so talk to her. Don’t drag me into this.
– Can I put my daughter on your bed now? – I asked.
– Put it. Just make sure she doesn’t piss all over me.
– She’s in a diaper.
I went into my mom’s room, put my daughter in and changed her clothes, and started thinking about what to do. I took out my phone, typed in a search: inexpensive furniture with delivery. I chose a bed and a mattress. I ordered it and they promised to deliver it in two hours. Called my husband, asked him to throw money and explained why.
– Why don’t you just go to my mother’s? Why waste money? – My husband asked.
– No, thank you. I’d rather stay here. The bed will be here soon, and we don’t need anything else. And you’ll bring the baby carriage tonight. And don’t forget the playpen!
I hear someone coming. That must be Rachel, my sister-in-law, back. I went out into the hallway.
– What are you doing here? – She asked. I told her about the repairs and that I’d be staying here for a while, until the neighbors had finished their drilling.
– Haven’t they taught you to ask? We made repairs there for what? So you can come here whenever you want? – My brother’s wife attacked me.
– You’re the ones who weren’t taught to ask! You could have asked me if I mind my nephew living in my room. And then you could have started renovating. Why did you throw out the furniture?
– Speaking of furniture, you’ll have to pay to have that stuff taken out!
– Rachel, don’t be cheeky. I’m in my own house. Do me a favor and tone it down. I’m not your girlfriend to talk to me in that tone, – I said to the girl who had given herself permission to shout at me.
– This is my house! And you get out where you came from! Mama Sarah, am I right? – my daughter-in-law turned to my mother for support.
– I won’t let you live here! Do you want music at full throttle, or do you want me to buy you a drill? Get out, for good!
Mom was in complete agreement with her daughter-in-law:
– Yes, yes, get out of here. My grandson will live here.
I decided not to have a conflict, called my mother-in-law, and asked her to stay with me. I packed up my daughter, took her things, and called a cab again. I remembered to cancel the bed reservation. An hour later, sitting in my mother-in-law’s kitchen, I was choosing an iron door with three locks. I would buy it and install it on my room, not a nursery. If they had asked nicely, I wouldn’t have said no. Not that I came, and I started kicking me out. So as they are with me – so am I. That’s what they call family…
