“Lisa, we wont take much. Just pack us one of your famous pies and a couple of jars of jam for the road,” Gleb said with a lazy stretch and a grin.
Lisa stared at him, stunned by the audacity. How could he ask so shamelessly?
Her mind raced with memories of how hard shed worked to make that pie perfect, how shed cleaned the house before their arrival. And now here was Gleb, who hadnt lifted a finger all week, lounging in the shade and demanding treats to take home.
She glanced at Artem, who seemed oblivious to his brothers behavior.
“Gleb, dont you think youre asking a bit much?” Lisa said, forcing her voice to stay steady.
“Oh, come off it, Lisa!” He waved her off without even looking. “Were familywe share things. Youve got plenty here!”
A mix of resentment and anger simmered inside her.
This little cottage by the lake, bought three years ago, had become their sanctuary. Summers here were never idleearly mornings, weeding, berry picking, tending the chickens, preserving for winter. Every helping hand was worth its weight in gold.
Thats why Glebs request felt like a slap. He either didnt seeor didnt careabout all that effort. To him, this place was just a free holiday spot, and she and Artem were the staff.
It had started three weeks ago when Gleb called out of the blue, offering to “drop by, help with chores, and enjoy the countryside.” The words had surprised her. Gleb and his wife Olga were city folk through and throughweekends were for brunches, pubs, and shopping.
“Help?” Lisa had echoed skeptically.
But Gleb carried on, enthusiastic. “Course! Were family! Fresh airll do us good. Ive been meaning to pick raspberries, fire up the sauna”
After hanging up, Lisa sat on the porch for a long time, absently twisting her apron strings.
She knew Glebhe loved making promises but rarely kept them. Still, Artem had been excited when he heard the news.
“Maybe theyll at least pick some berries. Who knows, Gleb might even help me fix the fence.”
The next few days, Lisa bustled around like royalty was visiting. She washed and ironed the guest linens, stocked up on groceriesfresh fish, meat for the barbecue, fruit, sweets. She wanted them to feel welcome.
“Maybe itll be fine,” she told herself, hanging the towels. “If they help even a little, itll be something.”
When Gleb and Olga finally arrived, Lisa met them with a smile, burying her doubts.
They looked relaxed, as if theyd just come back from a spa.
“Here we are!” Gleb announced, arms wide.
Lisa forced a grin and invited them to the table, where salads, warm pastries, and homemade lemonade waited.
The first half-hour was cheerfulcatching up, swapping news. Then Artem gently laid out the plan for the next few days.
“Tomorrow well start with the hay, then pick berries. Plenty to do, but well manage together.”
“Of course, of course,” Olga nodded, but Lisa caught the flicker of confusion in her eyes, as if “hay” was a foreign concept.
That look made Lisas stomach twist. Something told her this “help” wouldnt materialize.
The first day passed like a holiday. Lisa tried not to think about the overgrown grass, the strawberry patch choked with weeds, or the buckets of apples waiting in the shed.
Gleb was in high spiritsjoking loudly, snacking, bragging about how “exhausted” he was from city life and how “lucky” they were to escape to nature. Olga posed in a new sundress against the sunset, snapping endless selfies.
Artem smiled, happy his brother had finally visited, hopeful things would get done faster.
But by the next morning, the mood shifted.
Lisa woke at dawn to the roosters crow, pulled on her wellies, and headed out. Dew glistened on the grass, the air crisp with the scent of hay. The chickens clucked impatiently.
As she scooped grain, her gaze drifted to the guest roomsilent, curtains drawn.
By 8 a.m., shed fed the birds, picked a bucket of cucumbers, and lugged water for the vegetable beds.
Artem came out with a cup of tea. “Gleb and Olga drove into town. Said it was urgent.”
Lisa nodded, though something sour settled in her chest. Shed hoped theyd at least join after breakfast.
They didnt return until evening, beaming and laden with crisps, fizzy drinks, and beer, as if theyd accomplished some great feat.
“Lisa, this place is like a retreat!” Gleb flopped onto the porch chair. “Everything just takes care of itself!”
The next day, Lisas irritation grew. She mowed alone, hauled water, scrubbed floors, cooked meals.
Gleb lazed in the hammock, scrolling his phone and complaining of a headache.
“Think Ive caught a chill. Need to rest today.”
Olga sprawled on a beach towel by the water, uploading selfies with captions like #CountryLife #BlissfulEscape #NatureTherapy.
With each day, Lisa grew wearier and angrier. Up at 5, bed past midnight, cleaning up after their “guests.”
They never offered to helpgenuinely believing their presence alone was a gift.
“Were here as guests,” Olga had said, baffled when Lisa asked for help with dishes. “Since when do guests work?”
From then on, Lisas smile stayed fixed, every request from them chipping at her patience.
By day five, shed had enough.
All morning, shed toiled in the garden, weeding, hauling water, while laughter floated from the porch where Olga chatted with friends.
When Artem returned from the field, sweat-streaked and weary, Lisa met him with a tight expression.
“I cant do this anymore,” she said. “They wont even wash a plate! Today Gleb asked me to iron his shirt, and Olga called breakfast a bit plain.”
Artem nodded, and they agreed: tonight, theyd assign chores. Gleb would finally help with the fence; Olga would weed the strawberries.
Maybe then theyd understandthis wasnt a free holiday.
“Gleb, tomorrow we need to fix the fence,” Artem said at dinner. “Youll help?”
“Sure, sure,” Gleb mumbled, shoving kebabs into his mouth, eyes glued to his phone.
Clearly, his texts mattered more than the work.
Next morning, Artem rose early. The air was fresh, smelling of dew and hay. He fetched tools from the shed, checked the wood and nails, even brewed strong teaready for a productive day.
He knocked on the guest room door. Silence. Louder this time. Only the hum of the AC answered.
Inside, the room was empty.
A note lay on the side table:
“Gone into town. Back by evening! Barbecue tonight!”
That evening, Gleb and Olga returned with bags of meat, more beer, and smoked salmon.
Laughing, they complained about “horrendous traffic” and the heat. Lisa, exhausted, swayed on her feet by the porch.
“We agreed youd help today,” she said.
“Ah, right,” Gleb said airily, waving a meat packet. “Tomorrow, definitely! Promise.”
But by morning, day seven, he announced:
“Got to dash back early. Shame we couldnt help!”
Then, smiling, he added:
“Lisa, pack us one of your pies for the road. And a few jars of that raspberry jam. Its divine!”
Rage boiled in Lisas chest. A week of dawn-to-dusk worktending the garden, cooking, cleaning up after ungrateful guestsculminated in one firm refusal.
“Were not giving you anything,” she said, voice trembling despite her effort to stay calm. “You havent lifted a finger all week.”
Gleb froze, face reddening, eyes narrowing.
“Nice hospitality!” he screeched. “We came here with kindness!”
“What kindness?” Lisa shot back. “You lazed around while I worked! Treated this place like a hotel!”
Artem, who usually avoided conflict, stepped beside her, hand on her shoulder. His voice was steady.
“Gleb, you offered to help. Instead, you ate, drank, and complained.”
“Rubbish!” Gleb spat, stepping forward. “Were family! Youd charge your own brother? Shame on you!”
Olga, standing by the car, sighed dramatically, threw her hands up, and slammed the door.
“Lets go, Gleb!” she shouted from inside. “They dont appreciate us! Some family this is!”
Gleb turned to them, mouth openthen just shook his head and stormed off.
The
