Lisa, we won’t take much! Just pack us a slice of your famous pie and a couple of jars of jam for the road,” Gleb said with a lazy smile on his face.

Liza, we wont take much. Just pack your special pie and a couple of jars of jam for the road, Gleb drawled, a grin on his face.
Liza stared at the visitor, stunned by his brazen request. How could he ask so shamelessly?
She replayed in her mind the hours shed spent perfecting that pie and preparing the house for their arrival.
And now Gleb, who hadnt lifted a single tool all week, lounged in the shade demanding a takeaway feast.
She glanced at Artem, who seemed oblivious to his brothers behavior.
Gleb, arent you asking for too much? Liza asked, trying to stay calm.
Oh, stop it, Liza! he waved her off without turning. Were family, we share. And youve got a whole lot of everything here!
A surge of resentment and anger rose inside Liza.
The little lakeside cottage theyd bought three years earlier had become a true sanctuary for her and Artem.
In summer there were no lazy days: early rises, weeding, berry picking, caring for the chickens, and winter stockpiling. Any help was worth its weight in gold.
So Glebs demand sounded like an insult. He either didnt seeor chose not to seeall the work theyd done.
To him the cottage was just a free vacation spot, and Liza and Artem were the staff
It all began three weeks earlier, when Gleb called and suggested they drop by, lend a hand around the farm, and enjoy some countryside rest.
Those words came as a surprise. Gleb and his wife Olga were cityslickers through and through: parties, bars, movies, weekend shopping sprees.
Help? Liza asked, a hint of doubt in her voice.
But Gleb already pressed on enthusiastically:
Of course! Were family! Itll be easier for you, and well get some fresh air. Ive been meaning to pick raspberries and fire up the sauna
After hanging up, Liza sat on the porch for a long while, idly running her fingers over the fabric of her apron.
She knew Glebs naturehe loved to promise, rarely to deliver. Deep down she hesitated, but Artem, hearing the news, lit up:
Well, maybe theyll at least pick some berries. And look, my brother will even help me with the fence.
The next days Liza spent in a flurry of chores as if the president himself were arriving. She washed and ironed the linens, laid out fresh towels, drove into town for suppliesfresh fish, meat for kebabs, fruit, sweetsso the relatives would feel welcome.
Maybe everything will turn out alright, she muttered while hanging towels. Even a little help would be a win.
When Gleb and Olga finally arrived, Liza greeted them with a smile, trying to mask her doubts.
The guests looked relaxed, as if theyd just returned from a resort.
Here we are! Gleb announced cheerfully, throwing his arms wide.
Liza forced a grin and led them to the table. On the veranda, salads, hot pies, and cold compote already waited.
The first halfhour passed with light chatter and news swapping, then Artem cautiously outlined the plan for the coming days.
Tomorrow well start with mowing, then well gather berries. Theres a lot to do, but well manage together.
Sure, sure, Olga replied, though Liza caught a flicker of surprise and a hint of bewilderment in her eyes, as if the word mowing belonged to another world.
Liza sensed that look and felt a foreboding: the help might turn out to be invisible.
Day one felt festive. Liza tried not to think about the waisthigh grass, the strawberry patch overrun with weeds, and the barrels of apples waiting in the shed.
Gleb was in high spirits, loudly telling jokes, cracking seeds, bragging about being tired of the city and lucky to be out in nature.
Olga, in a new sundress, posed against the sunset and the lake, snapping dozens of photos.
Artem smiled, pleased that his brother had finally arrived and hoping the work would now go faster.
But by the next morning the mood shifted.
Liza awoke at dawn to the roosters crow, pulled on rubber boots and stepped outside. Dew glittered on the grass, the air smelled of fresh hay. The chickens flapped about, demanding feed.
She scooped grain, then glanced at the guestroom window: curtains drawn, the room quiet.
By eight a.m. Liza had fed the birds, collected a bucket of green cucumbers, and watered the beds.
Artem emerged with a cup of tea and announced:
Gleb and Olga went into town. Something urgent came up.
Liza nodded silently, though something uncomfortable pricked inside her. She hoped the helpers would return after breakfast.
They came back only at dusk, radiant and satisfied. Gleb unloaded bags of chips, soda, and sparkling water from the trunk as if hed performed a miracle.
Liza, this place is practically a spa! he shouted, collapsing into a chair on the veranda. Everything does itself!
The following day Liza felt irritation building. She mowed alone, hauled heavy buckets, washed floors, and cooked lunch.
Gleb lounged in a hammock, lazily scrolling his phone, complaining of a headache.
I think I caught a cold. Im staying in today.
Olga stretched on a beach towel by the water, snapping selfies. Her social feeds filled with new hashtags: #CountryRelax, #LifeIsBeautiful, #NatureGetaway.
Each day Liza grew more exhausted and irritable. She rose at five, went to bed after midnight, washing dishes and cleaning up after the guests.
The guests never offered to helpthey genuinely believed their mere presence was a gift.
We came to visit you, Olga exclaimed when Liza asked her to wash the dishes. Shouldnt guests be the ones to relax?
From that moment the hostesss smile became a strained mask, and any request from the guests felt like a strike to her patience.
Slowly but inexorably, hospitality reached its breaking point.
On the fifth day Liza could no longer stay silent. The irritation that had been gathering since their arrival finally erupted.
She spent the whole day in the garden, weeding beds, hauling water buckets, all while laughter drifted from the veranda where Olga, sprawled on a lounge chair, chatted with friends.
When Artem returned, dusty and tired from the field, Liza met his eyes with a serious expression.
I cant take this anymore, she said. They dont even clean up after themselves! Today Gleb asked me to wash his shirt, and Olga called breakfast something simple.
Artem nodded, and they decided to involve the guests in tomorrows chores: Gleb would finally help repair the fence, and Olga would take charge of weeding the strawberries.
Liza hoped the gesture would make the visitors understand that vacation is fine, but the farm wont run itself.
Gleb, we need to fix the fence tomorrow, Artem said over dinner. Will you help?
Of course, of course, Gleb waved, chewing a kebab and never looking up from his phone.
It was clear his interest lay in messaging, not in the work.
The next morning Artem rose early. The air was crisp, scented with hay and dew. He fetched tools from the shed, inspected boards and nails, even brewed strong tea for his brother to start the day on a good note.
He knocked on the guestroom door. Silence. He knocked again, louder. Only the muted hum of an airconditioner answered. When he opened the door, the room was empty.
On the nightstand lay a note:
Were in town, will be back by evening! Barbecue tonight!
That evening Gleb and Olga returned, laden with bags of meat, soda, and dried fish.
They laughed about terrible traffic jams and the heat. Liza, utterly exhausted, barely stood on the porch.
We agreed on work for the plot, she reminded them.
Ah, right, right, Gleb replied absentmindedly, waving a sack of meat. Well definitely help tomorrow! Promise.
But on the seventh morning he announced:
We have to leave urgently. Too bad we didnt get to help!
Then, smiling, he added:
Liza, pack your signature pie for the road and a couple of jars of raspberry jam. Its just wonderful!
Anger boiled inside Liza. A week of hard laborpredawn garden work, endless cooking, washing, cleaning, and caring for ungrateful guestsculminated in a firm refusal.
We wont give you anything, she said, trying to keep her voice even, though it trembled. You didnt do a single job all week.
Gleb froze, disbelief flashing across his face. His cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed.
Youre the worst! he shouted, his voice cracking. And what about hospitality? We came with all our hearts!
With what heart? Liza snapped. You came to vacation on our dime! I was the only one working while you lounged in a hammock and shopped!
Artem, usually the peacemaker, stepped beside his wife, placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked straight at his brother, speaking calmly but firmly:
Gleb, you volunteered to help. Instead, you just ate, drank, and complained about the heat.
What are you talking about, Artem! Gleb exploded, stepping forward. Were family! And youre demanding money for food! Shame on you, brother!
Olga, standing by the porch, let out a loud sigh, raised her arms to the sky as if to display her disdain, clenched her lips, and walked to the car.
She slammed the door dramatically. Olga was outraged that what should have been a family gathering ended in a scandal.
Lets go, Gleb! she shouted from the vehicle. Were not valued here! And family?
Gleb turned to Artem and Liza, ready to say something, but simply waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing off all accusations, and strode quickly toward his car.
He slammed the trunk shut, getting into the drivers seat with a hurt expression, his face twisted by rage, his eyes a mix of surprise and offense, as if the world had suddenly turned against him.
He shouted over his shoulder:
Keep your pies to yourselves! he yelled, closing the door. Well never come back!
When the car disappeared around the bend, Liza and Artem remained on the porch, feeling a mix of relief and the fatigue of emotional turmoil.
Artem let out a deep sigh and sank onto a step.
Experience is costly but valuable, he said, looking at his wife with understanding. No more freeloaders will show up.
Liza nodded, realizing the lesson had indeed been worthwhile.
That evening they walked the property, gauging the work still left undone.
The fence still needed repair, the strawberries required weeding, and the hay was still uncut.
They strolled slowly along the path, listening to the night sounds of the garden. Liza caught herself thinking that the tiredness from hard labor felt nicer than the weariness caused by someones arrogance.
Later, the couple heated the sauna and brewed tea with raspberry jamthe very jam Gleb had begged for.
They gazed at the lake, and Liza felt their little cottage had become their quiet world again.
From now on well only welcome guests who arrive with rakes, not phones, Liza said, and they both laughed, understanding that lifes core is mutual help and respect.