The holiday plans were hopelessly ruined.
That was already obvious. Why are they so shameless?!
As the saying goes: “Bluntness is sometimes worse than theft!”
Vlad and Zoya had owned the grandfather’s plot for quite a while.
But only after Vlad got a promotion at work did the real opportunity arise to build the home they had always dreamed of.
There used to be an old wooden house with a stove on that spot, where grandma made fragrant jam and grandpa told endless stories about his youth.
Now, this place was meant to become their new family nest.
They had spent the entire previous summer on construction.
They chose the design, oversaw the building process and interior finishing.
Every evening after work, Vlad would check the documents, negotiate with contractors, while Zoya sorted through samples of wallpaper and tiles.
They imagined themselves living in that house: morning coffee on the veranda, dinners under the starry sky, long winter evenings by the fireplace.
And now, almost everything was ready. All that was left was to dismantle the grandfather’s old house and put up a fence.
The old house still stood in the corner of the plot, like a symbol of times past, waiting for its turn.
Vlad and Zoya were eagerly awaiting their May holiday trip to their new home.
This weekend was supposed to be a mini-vacation for them. All their savings had gone into construction, and for nearly two years, they hadn’t had a break — except for work and this build.
The May holidays were meant to be something like a second honeymoon.
Just the two of them, in peace, far from the city bustle. No annoying colleagues, no neighbors through the walls.
Just peace, nature, and the two of them.
They had dreamed about this moment for so long that even the smallest details of the upcoming rest had already been carefully planned.
Vlad had bought a new grill in advance, and Zoya had packed the books she had been wanting to read for ages.
“At last, we’ll be able to rest,” she said, putting the books into a bag.
“No phone calls, no one else’s problems.”
The night before the trip, they sat in the kitchen, watching the sunset peek through the window.
City twilight slowly descended on the buildings, painting everything in soft pastel shades.
The air already carried the breath of spring — that special kind that makes the heart beat faster every year.
“You know what?” Vlad broke the silence. “I’m so happy we’re finally going.
Just imagine — just the two of us.”
“Yes,” Zoya smiled. “It’ll be our little celebration. Our home.”
They kept talking for a long time about their future plans.
How they would set up the garden, what flowers they’d plant, how they would watch the sunrises from the terrace.
It seemed all their dreams were about to come true.
“Can you imagine how lovely it’ll be to have coffee in the morning, watching the dew on the grass?” Zoya said dreamily.
“And in the evening, lighting the barbecue and watching the stars,” Vlad added.
Their conversation flowed from one idea to another, making their anticipation of the holiday even more joyful.
They were truly looking forward to these May holidays. They couldn’t wait to be at their new home.
The night before, Vlad had to stay late at work, so they couldn’t pack in advance.
He left in the morning while Zoya was still asleep and came back late at night, tired and with a headache.
“Sorry,” he said as soon as he stepped through the door.
“Tomorrow we’ll do everything properly. We’ll pack and go.”
Zoya just sighed. She had gotten used to such situations over the past months.
But even that couldn’t ruin her mood.
The next morning, they started packing later than planned.
Their things were scattered all over the apartment: bags of groceries, clothes, blankets.
Zoya rushed between the room and the kitchen, checking the list.
“Did you definitely take the charcoal?” she asked, peeking into the car’s trunk.
“Yes, everything’s in there,” Vlad replied, closing the trunk.
“Don’t worry, we didn’t forget anything.”
And finally, they were on their way.
The road wasn’t very long, but it was tiring: through city traffic jams, then past endless summer cottages, where people were already bustling around, preparing for the holiday.
The entire drive, they cheerfully discussed how they would spend those few days.
They talked about everything — how they’d light the grill, what movies they’d watch in the evening, how they’d sit in armchairs and read.
It was their first real rest in a long time.
“All our money went into construction,” Zoya noted, leaning back in her seat.
“We haven’t gone anywhere in almost two years.”
“Yeah,” Vlad agreed. “Even on weekends, we had no time.”
These long holidays were supposed to be a small escape for them.
They had earned it.
The car glided smoothly down the highway, surrounded by a picturesque spring landscape.
Outside the window flashed fields, trees, and occasional vehicles.
The sun shone brightly, but not harshly, and the air was full of freshness.
When they were close to the plot, Vlad turned on their favorite tunes.
Music filled the car, and they began to sing along, laughing at how off-key Vlad was.
One more hour — and there it was, their house. Vlad turned off the main road onto a narrow dirt track leading to the property.
“So, are you ready?” Vlad asked with a smile.
— More than ready, — she replied, feeling a wave of joy rising inside her.
As they pulled up to the house, Vlad and Zoya heard music and loud voices.
Cars were parked on the lawn next to the house, there was a barbecue grill, folding chairs, a table, and music was blaring from one of the vehicles’ speakers.
People bustled around: someone was flipping kebabs, someone was laughing so loudly that they could be heard even through the closed car windows.
— What is going on here? — Zoya asked, not believing her eyes.
Vlad said nothing. His face darkened with anger. He stopped the car and got out, slowly looking around.
— It’s our dear relatives, — he muttered through gritted teeth.
And indeed, Vlad and Zoya’s relatives had gathered to celebrate May 1st.
Back in the day, Grandpa was the first to invite everyone over for a barbecue on May Day.
There was a time when the whole yard was filled with cars, the table was packed with appetizers, and the air smelled unmistakably of grilled meat.
But after Grandpa passed, the tradition gradually faded.
They gathered a few times, but then stopped.
And now, upon finding out that Vlad and Zoya had built a house, they decided to revive the tradition — without asking, without an invitation.
The relatives had already been drinking and were behaving quite freely.
Aunt Lena, who always loved being the center of attention, waved her arms and rushed toward them.
— Oh, the newlyweds! — she exclaimed joyfully. — We’ve been waiting for you!
— Waiting for us? — Zoya repeated, feeling a boil of anger rising inside.
— Of course! We knew you were coming today.
We decided to surprise you! — Aunt Lena continued, as if she didn’t notice their tense expressions.
Before Vlad and Zoya could say a word, they were surrounded by other relatives. Someone shouted:
— Hey, open the house! It’s chilly outside!
— Great that you built such a spacious house, now there’s room for everyone, — declared Aunt Lena.
— We’ll celebrate all holidays here from now on! — added Uncle Vitya.
Zoya felt herself begin to shake with indignation.
She stepped forward, blocking the entrance to the house.
— This is our house! — she nearly shouted.
— We didn’t invite anyone!
— What do you mean you didn’t invite us? — one of the women asked, surprised. — We’re family!
— Family? — Vlad repeated, his voice icy.
— Did you even ask us if we wanted to see you here?
— Oh, come on, — interjected a man Zoya barely remembered. — Don’t be such bores!
— We’re not being boring, — Vlad replied calmly.
— We’re simply the owners of this house. And if we didn’t invite you, that means you’re not welcome.
Aunt Lena took a step forward, her face twisted with disapproval.
— What’s wrong with you? — she snapped.
— We’re family! It’s normal to gather like this!
— It’s only normal when you’re invited, — Zoya shot back.
— You’re just being rude! — Aunt Lena burst out. — You can’t treat relatives like this!
— Now that’s rich, — Vlad replied coldly.
— Rude is showing up uninvited to someone else’s house.
— You don’t understand, — began Varvara Stepanovna, Uncle Vitya’s wife, trying to speak diplomatically. — We just wanted to keep the tradition alive.
— A tradition? — Zoya repeated. — How about the tradition of respecting other people’s boundaries?
No one answered. The relatives exchanged glances. Some clearly felt awkward, but most were convinced they were in the right.
— Listen, — Vlad said, raising his voice so everyone could hear.
— We built this house for ourselves. We weren’t planning any guests for the holidays. Especially not uninvited ones.
— But it’s a family plot! — Aunt Lena tried to argue.
— The plot has long been ours, — Vlad said firmly.
— And we decide who gets to come here.
Zoya stepped closer to the group of relatives.
— You have no idea how much effort and money we poured into this house, — she said.
— And now you just show up uninvited, acting like this is your territory.
— We meant it kindly, as family! — one of the men began.
— Oh really? — Zoya asked. — So you think it’s okay to just show up and ruin everything?
— Fine, — said Aunt Lena, trying to save face.
— Since you’re so high and mighty, we’ll leave. But know this — we won’t let this go!
— What do you mean “won’t let it go”? — Vlad asked, surprised.
— Just what I said! — she snapped.
Vlad stepped forward, pointing at the trampled lawn where tire marks were clearly visible.
— Do you even see what you’ve done? — he exclaimed.
— That’s a brand-new lawn! We just leveled it!
And now look at it!
The relatives exchanged glances, but none of them thought to apologize.
On the contrary, someone scoffed:
— Come on, Vlad! It’ll be fine! It’s not a big deal!
— That’s *our* lawn! — Vlad snapped. — And *we* paid for it with our own money!
Zoya stood silently beside him, fists clenched. She could feel the fury bubbling inside her.
— You know what? — Vlad continued, raising his voice.
— Seems like we should’ve started the construction with a fence.
So these kinds of “relatives” would know where the boundaries are!
— There you go again! — Aunt Lena cut in. — We’re family! Grandpa always invited us!
— Grandpa has been gone for years! — Vlad shot back.
— And *we* built this house! With our own hands!
If Grandpa were alive, even *he* would ask permission before coming!
— How can you say that?! — one of the women gasped. — Who raised you?!
Zoya stepped forward, her eyes flashing.
— Someone with better manners than you, clearly! — she snapped.
— You didn’t even consider that we might’ve had other plans!
— But it’s a family tradition! — one of the men tried to interject.
— Turn off the music! — Vlad demanded, pointing at the speakers.
— And get your cars off the lawn!
— What? — someone asked, shocked. — But we just got started!
— No, — Zoya said coldly. — You’re done.
Get off our property. Now.
For a moment, silence fell.
— Fine, enjoy your little house all alone, — Aunt Lena spat, heading to her car.
When the last vehicle disappeared around the bend, they both exhaled deeply.
The air was filled with evening coolness, and somewhere in the distance, birds were singing.
— What a day, — Vlad muttered, surveying the now-empty lawn.
— Yeah, — Zoya agreed.
— You know what amazes me? — he asked.
— What?
— How people can be so brazen.
Bluntness really *is* worse than theft.
— You know what? — Zoya said, taking her husband’s hand.
— What?
— I still want to have our little celebration. Just you and me.
Vlad smiled.
— That’s a great idea.
They headed into the house, finally ready to enjoy their well-earned rest.
Of course, the relatives would be gossiping about them for a long time.
Some would probably call them rude or ungrateful.
But for Vlad and Zoya, it didn’t matter.
Twilight slowly fell outside the window. The house was warm and cozy.
Vlad and Zoya sat in silence, enjoying the moment they had planned for so long.
Their little vacation had finally begun.
