“What do you mean, ‘buy food for your relatives’?” Emily asked her husband in an icy voice, staring into the empty refrigerator.
“Their bags are outside the door, the key is on the table, and I don’t want to see a trace of them here!” Her voice shook with fury as she flung another bag of the guests’ belongings into the hallway.
“Emily, have you lost your mind? They’re my family!” Daniel tried to block her way, but she pushed past him with her shoulder.
“Exactly. Your family. And what am I supposed to be in this apartment? Free household help?”
“Emily, calm down! What are the neighbors going to think?”
“I couldn’t care less about the neighbors! You should have thought about that before you let them turn this place into a dump!”
Daniel stood there helplessly, watching his wife systematically stuff his relatives’ things into plastic bags and suitcases. From behind the door came the offended voices of Linda and Peter.
“Emily, maybe we should sit down and talk this through?”
“Talk? About what? About how I’ve been humiliated for three straight weeks while you politely looked the other way?”
Three weeks before the scandal, the Kozhemyakin apartment had been enjoying its usual quiet evening. Emily was making dinner, slicing vegetables for a salad and thinking about their weekend plans, when Daniel walked into the kitchen with a guilty expression. She knew at once that something unpleasant had happened.
“Em… so, Aunt Linda called. Their renovation is dragging on, and they have nowhere to stay. I told them they could live with us for a week or two.”
The knife froze in Emily’s hand. Slowly, she turned toward him.
“You told them that? Without asking me?”
“Come on, they’re family! It’s Aunt Linda, Uncle Peter, and Katie. They’re quiet. You’ll barely notice they’re here.”
“Daniel, let me remind you of something. We have a two-bedroom apartment. Where exactly are you planning to put three grown adults?”
“Well, Katie can sleep on the pullout couch in the living room, and Aunt Linda and Uncle Peter…” He faltered, avoiding her eyes. “Maybe we could give them our bedroom. We’re young. We can manage on the sofa.”
Emily set the knife down and slowly wiped her hands on a towel.
“Are you seriously suggesting that I sleep on the couch in my own home? Or should I move straight into the kitchen?”
“Emily, why are you immediately making this a fight? It’s two weeks at most. They’re in a difficult situation. What are we supposed to do, turn them away?”
“You couldn’t have asked me first?”
“What was there to ask? Of course you would’ve agreed. You’re kindhearted.”
“So the decision was already made. Wonderful.”
“Great! They’ll be here tomorrow.”
The next day, Emily had barely returned from work when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and found three people standing there with enormous suitcases and overstuffed bags, as if they had arrived for a month rather than two weeks.
“Emmy!” Linda Kozhemyakina beamed. She was a heavyset woman in her fifties with heavily painted lips and gold teeth that flashed whenever she spoke. “Oh my, you’ve gotten so thin! Daniel doesn’t feed you properly, does he?”
“Good afternoon, Aunt Linda,” Emily said, forcing herself to sound welcoming. “Come in.”
“Where’s the bathroom?” Peter asked at once, red-faced and giving off a distinctive smell despite the early hour.
“Dad, don’t be gross,” Katie snapped. She was twenty-five, wearing bright leopard-print leggings and bold, flashy makeup. “Obviously it’s the door off the hallway. And where’s our room, Aunt Emily? We’re taking the master bedroom, right?”
“Actually, we thought…” Emily began, but Linda had already marched deeper into the apartment, inspecting the place like property she had just inherited.
“Daniel, my boy!” she shouted through the rooms. “Come greet your relatives!”
Daniel hurried out of the living room, smiling broadly.
“Aunt Linda! Uncle Peter! Katie! How was the trip?”
“Fine, but we’re absolutely exhausted,” Katie groaned. “Where can we lie down?”
“Oh, how lovely!” Linda was already peering into the bedroom. “The wallpaper is a little gloomy, but it’ll do for two weeks. Peter, bring in the suitcases!”
“Aunt Linda, perhaps we should first discuss who will sleep where?” Emily suggested cautiously.
“What’s there to discuss? We’re adults. Adults need a proper bed. I have sciatica, and I’m not sleeping on a couch. Isn’t that right, Daniel?”
“Of course, Aunt Linda. Emily and I will sleep in the living room. Right, sweetheart?”
Emily nodded without saying a word. She already understood that arguing would be useless.
The first week turned into a nightmare. Linda behaved as though she were the rightful lady of the house. She rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, rearranged the dishes to suit her own habits, and rapidly worked her way through Emily’s carefully stored supply of canned goods and grains.
“Emily, dear, what is this poor excuse for food?” she complained at seven in the morning, clattering pots and bowls loud enough to wake the whole building. “Buckwheat and rice, that’s all you have! Where is the pearl barley?”