“Lida, are you home?” he shouted from the corridor.
Lida stood up, took her phone, and went out to the kitchen. Andrey was standing by the fridge, getting juice. He was in a good mood, whistling something.
“Andrey?” said Lida evenly. “Did you withdraw all the money from the savings account?”
He turned around, gulped juice straight from the carton. Looked at her appraisingly.
“Yes.”
“And so?”
“What do you mean ‘and so’?” Lida felt herself starting to boil inside. “That was our money. Eighty thousand. I was saving it for three months.”
“Oh, are you starting again?” Andrey put the carton on the table and sighed. “Lida, I didn’t take it for nothing. I need it.”
“For what?”
“For surprises.” He smiled mysteriously. “I’m getting ready for the holiday. I want everything to be beautiful.”
“What surprises?” Lida squeezed the phone in her hand. “Andrey, I was saving this money for a vacation. We agreed.”
“Agreed, agreed…” He grimaced. “You always want to control everything. I can’t do this, you understand? I have a head on my shoulders. I’m a man, I decide myself where to spend money.”
“It was shared money!” Lida raised her voice. “You had no right.”
“I did.” Andrey stepped toward her, his face becoming hard. “Whose name is the apartment in?”
“Both of ours.”
“Whose account is it?”
“Joint.”
“That means my rights are the same as yours. So don’t interfere, okay?”
“Do you even realize we have seven thousand left on the card? Two weeks until my payday.”
“So what? We’ll survive.” Andrey waved his hand. “Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. I’ve thought everything through, everything will be fine.”
Lida looked at him and didn’t recognize him. Here he stands, her husband. The person she has lived with for four years. And now he looks at her as if she is a hysterical woman preventing him from living.
“At least tell me what you spent it on?” she asked quietly.
“I won’t tell.” Andrey smiled, but the smile came out crooked. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see soon yourself. And you’ll say thank you.”
He turned around and left the kitchen. Lida remained standing in the middle of the room, clutching the phone. A wave of rage rose inside, but she couldn’t spill it out; she could only stand and breathe. Slowly, deeply.
Surprises. He is preparing surprises. With her money.
Lida spent the next two days in a state of dull, muffled anger. She went to work, returned home, cooked food for herself, went to bed. Andrey acted as if nothing had happened. He was cheerful, spent a lot of time on his phone, typing something, calling someone. Sometimes Lida caught his gaze on her, studying, waiting. He was waiting for her to give in and start preparing for the holiday. But Lida didn’t give in. She remained silent.
On the evening of December 23rd, she was hanging laundry on the balcony. The balcony was glazed and warm, but the door to the kitchen remained ajar. Andrey’s voice, loud and boastful, drifted from the kitchen.
“Mom, I’m telling you, everything will be top-notch!” He was speaking with his mother. Lida froze, listening. “No, seriously. The table will be groaning with food. I’ve thought it all through here. And… Listen, this is the coolest part. I’ve prepared gifts for everyone. Ten thousand for each. Little envelopes. So everyone come, no excuses.”
Lida slowly hung the last pillowcase. Her hands moved automatically, but numbers began to add up in her head. “Ten thousand for each.”
“You invite Gena and Ira,” continued Andrey. “And Seryozha with Olya. And Nastya with her boyfriend. Yes, everyone. The more, the merrier. Mom, I assure you, the table will be groaning. And ten thousand for a gift for each.”
Lida closed her eyes. Eight people. Eight times ten. Eighty thousand. Her eighty thousand.
She entered the kitchen. Andrey was sitting at the table, smiling into the phone. Seeing her, he quickly said goodbye.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll call back later. Yes, see you.” He put the phone on the table and looked at Lida. Something wary flickered in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Lida silently held out her phone to him. On the screen was the page of their savings account. Three hundred twenty-two. Transaction history. Transfer. Eighty thousand.
Andrey glanced at the screen and shrugged.
“Well, yes. I told you. A surprise.”
“You invited eight people for New Year’s,” said Lida slowly, syllable by syllable. “And promised everyone a gift of ten thousand.”
“Yes.” Andrey stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets. “So what? My family. I want to make them happy. With my money.”
“With ours,” she corrected.
“Enough already, Lida! I’m the head of the family. I decide how we celebrate New Year’s.”
“You decide,” repeated Lida. “And who is going to cook?”
“You, of course.” Andrey looked at her as if she had asked something obvious. “You’re my hostess. You know how to do everything.”
“With what money?”
“With what’s left.” He started to get annoyed. “Lida, you’re a wizard. You’ll come up with something, right? You don’t have to pile the table with delicacies. The main thing is that it’s tasty and beautiful.”
Lida stood and looked at him, at his face, on which there was not a shadow of understanding. He really didn’t see the problem. He took her money, invited guests, promised them gifts, and now expected her to feed eight people on seven thousand.
“Do you even realize how much groceries cost?” she asked quietly.
“Roughly.” Andrey shrugged. “Well, make Olivier salad. You know, herring under a fur coat. That’s inexpensive.”
“Andrey, for eight people you need at least thirty thousand to make a decent table.”
“Well, then make it simpler.” He spread his hands. “Lida, what are you doing again? I’ve already invited everyone. I can’t cancel now, can I?”
“You could have asked me.” Lida felt her voice beginning to tremble. “Before inviting everyone, ask if I want eight people for New Year’s, if I can feed them.”
“But you didn’t ask because you knew I’d start whining?” she continued for him.
Andrey took a step toward her.
“You’re always unhappy, you always have problems. I want my mother to see that I’ve succeeded, that I’m doing well, that I can host the family, feed them, give gifts. Do you understand? It’s important to me.”
“And for me?” Lida looked him in the eyes. “Is it important for me?”
“For you, it’s important that I be happy,” said Andrey harshly. “You are my wife. You should support me, not sabotage me.”
He turned around and left the kitchen. The door to his office slammed. Lida remained standing in the middle of the kitchen. One thought pulsed in her head: “He doesn’t see me. He sees only himself, his mother, his desire to impress, and to him, I am a function, a hostess who must cook, keep quiet, and be grateful that he lives with me at all.”
She went to the table, sat on a chair, looked at the oak board that still lay on the table. “A little advance for the holiday.” Now everything became clear. The board is not a gift, it’s an advance for the work she has to perform. Lida took the board in her hands. Heavy, massive, beautiful. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface, then put the board back on the table.
No. Just no.
She got up, took her phone, and left the kitchen. Locked herself in the bedroom. Sat on the bed, opened the bank app. 7,215 on the salary card. 13 days until payday. Lida opened the calculator. Started counting. Groceries for one person for 13 days. Bread, grains, eggs, vegetables. The simplest things. The cheapest. It came to 3,000. Utilities 2,500. Gas 1,000. That leaves 715 just in case.
No delicacies. No gifts. No holiday.
She closed the calculator and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. There was a strange emptiness in her head. There wasn’t even anger anymore. Only cold, clear understanding. Andrey invited guests. Promised them gifts and a banquet. With her money. Without her consent.
Now that’s his problem…
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