З життя
Пустили в дом на год, а теперь не выселить: невестка беременна, сын молчит
Полтора года назад наш единственный сын Игорь женился. Его избранницу — Светлану — мы встретили тепло. Девушка казалась милой, спокойной, без лишних конфликтов. После свадьбы молодые переехали к нам — у нас с мужем просторная трешка в центре Москвы. Жили дружно: мы на работе, они — тоже.
Но спустя пару месяцев Света начала осторожно намекать, что хочет отдельное жильё. Мол, своя территория, самостоятельность и всё такое. Мы не стали упрямиться. Как раз была свободная однокомнатка, купленная когда-то для сдачи. Она приносила стабильный доход — эти деньги мы копили на старость, ведь на пенсию особо не разгуляешься.
Обсудили с мужем и предложили: пусть живут там год, бесплатно. Условие озвучили чётко — ровно год, ни днём больше. Они тогда чуть до потолка не подпрыгнули от радости. Обещали, что за это время накопят на первый взнос в ипотеку. Детей пока не планировали — хотели «пожить для себя».
Мы радовались, что помогли. Молодые заселились и… начали жить на широкую ногу. Одежда — только из бутиков, ужины — в ресторанах, отпуска — как по расписанию. Мы пару раз осторожно намекали, что, может, стоит немного экономить, но слышали в ответ: «Мы ещё молодые, надо успеть насладиться жизнью!»
Год пролетел. Мы уже готовились вернуть квартиру в аренду, но тут — как снег на голову: Света беременна. Причём уже на пятом месяце.
Я позвонила Игорю, спросила, когда они съезжают. В ответ — невнятное: «Ну, мам, ты же понимаешь… Света в положении, стрессы ей вредны…» А сама Светлана на следующий день явилась к нам с истерикой:
«Вы что, выгоняете беременную женщину на улицу?! Это же бесчеловечно! У вас совести нет?»
Я еле сдержалась:
«На какую улицу? У вас есть и наша квартира, и родительская трёшка Светы! Почему не жить там? Вы же взрослые люди! Год назад мы договорились: квартира на год, точка. За это время мы потеряли почти полмиллиона рублей — именно эти деньги собирались отдать вам на первый взнос. А вы их спустили на наряды, кафешки и поездки. И теперь ещё имеете наглость обвинять нас?»
Поставила ультиматум: месяц — и освобождаете. Они кивнули. Прошло две недели. Ни тебе объявлений, ни разговоров о поиске жилья. Только немой вопрос в глазах: «А вдруг передумают?»
Теперь мы с мужем ломаем голову, что делать. Сидим на кухне, перебираем варианты, но всё сводится к одному: сами виноваты, что не проявили твёрдости год назад.
Сейчас даже злости нет — одна усталость. Сын ни словом не защитил нас, молча встав на сторону жены. Света меня как зайца от волка обходит. А мы-то хотели как лучше… Помочь, поддержать, дать старт. А получили — вечных должников, обиды и упрёки.
И самое противное — мы уже не уверены, что сможем вернуть квартиру. По закону — они там прописаны. По совести — давит чувство вины. Имеем ли мы право выгонять их сейчас, когда Света ждёт ребёнка?
Вот так доброта превратилась в капкан. Пока мы молчим — они тихо остаются. Но скоро и наше терпение лопнет.
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A Grandson’s Request: An Uplifting Story “Gran, I need to ask you something—it’s really important. I need a lot of money.” He arrived in the evening—nervous, restless. Normally, Daniel popped round to see Lilian twice a week, happy to fetch her groceries or pop out the bins. Once, he even fixed her old sofa. Always calm, always confident—never like this. Lilian always worried—it was a strange world out there. “Daniel, love, can I ask—why do you need the money? And how much is ‘a lot’?” Her voice was steady, but her heart thumped. Daniel was her eldest grandson—a good lad, kind at heart. He’d finished school a year ago, working part-time while studying. His parents hadn’t voiced any concerns, but why would he need so much cash? “I can’t say yet, Gran, but I promise I’ll pay you back—just not all at once…” “You know I’m only on my pension,” said Lilian, torn, “How much exactly?” “One thousand pounds.” “Why not ask your parents?” Lilian asked absently, already guessing his answer. Daniel’s dad—her son-in-law—was strict, expected children to solve their own problems and not stick their noses where they didn’t belong. “They wouldn’t help,” Daniel replied, confirming her thoughts with a sigh. Had he got mixed up in something serious? Would giving him the money only make it worse? But what if not giving it made things even harder? She studied him with concern. “Gran, it’s nothing bad, I swear. I’ll pay you back in three months—promise! Don’t you trust me?” She probably should lend it, even if he never returned it. There ought to be someone in his life who has his back; someone he can trust—so he never loses faith in people. She did have that money set aside for emergencies. Perhaps this was the one. After all, Daniel had come to her. Funerals could wait—life was for the living. It’s family—family you must trust. They say if you lend money, be prepared to lose it. The young can be unpredictable… but Daniel had never let her down. “All right, I’ll lend you the money for three months, as you said. But wouldn’t it be better for your parents to know?” “Gran, you know I love you, and I always keep my promises. If you can’t help I’ll try to get a loan—after all, I do work.” The next day, Lilian went to the bank, withdrew the money and handed it to Daniel. He beamed, gave her a grateful hug, and dashed off: “Thank you, Gran, you’re the best. I’ll pay you back—I promise!” Lilian returned home, brewed herself a cup of tea, and pondered. So many times in her life she’d desperately needed help. Every time, someone came through. But now, these days, everyone looked out for themselves. Times were tough. A week later, Daniel popped in again, cheerful. “Gran, here’s the first bit back—I got an advance at work. Oh, and can I bring a friend round tomorrow?” “Of course, love. I’ll bake your favourite—poppyseed cake.” She smiled, relieved—whatever it was, she’d soon know. Daniel came that evening. Not alone. A slender young woman stood by his side. “Gran, this is Lisa. Lisa, meet my lovely Gran, Lilian.” Lisa blushed, “Hello, thank you so much, Mrs Taylor!” “Come in, both of you,” Lilian relaxed—they seemed good together. They sat and chatted over tea and cake. “Gran, I couldn’t tell you before. Lisa’s mum became suddenly very ill; there was no one else to help and Lisa was so worried—she made me promise not to explain why I needed the money. But it’s over now—her mum’s had the operation. The doctors say she’ll recover.” Daniel looked at Lisa, squeezing her hand. “Thank you—you’re so kind. I can’t thank you enough,” Lisa said, turning away to hide her tears. “I told you, everything’s all right, don’t cry,” Daniel smiled, “Come on, Gran, we’d better be off—getting late.” “Take care, dears, goodnight—may everything work out for you.” As they left, Lilian crossed herself (old habits die hard). Her grandson had grown up—a solid young man. She was glad she trusted him. It wasn’t really about the money; it brought them closer. Two months on, Daniel repaid her in full. “Just think, Gran. The doctor said if we hadn’t acted so quickly, it could have ended much worse. I didn’t know how I could help Lisa. I realise now—there’s always someone willing to step up when things are hard. And I’ll always look after you, Gran—you’re the best in the world!” Lilian ruffled his hair, as she had when he was little. “All right, off you go—and bring Lisa round soon!” “Of course,” Daniel grinned, hugging her. As she closed the door, Lilian remembered what her own gran used to say: “You must always look after your own. It’s the English way—never turn your back on family. Remember that!”
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