Alena stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room, adjusting the folds of her wedding dress, and felt a familiar anxiety squeeze her throat. She was confident in her choice. Until she heard the mind of her future mother-in-law.

“Vulgar,” Valentina Grigoryevna had said when they came to show her the dress. She looked her daughter-in-law over from head to toe as if she were assessing a product at the market.

“What exactly don’t you like?” she said.

– That’s it, my dear! – the woman waved her hand.

– These frills of yours… In my time, brides selected something more honorable. And here you have some kind of gypsy outfit

Sasha, do you like my dress? – Alyona asked directly.

“Yes, it’s normal…” he squeezed out. “The important thing is that you feel comfortable.”

“Alexander,” the mother said sternly,

“you can’t indulge every whim. The girl needs to be told where things are. A wedding is a serious matter, not some kind of disco.”

“Mom, stop it already,” Sasha whispered.

Her mother-in-law pierced her with a cold gaze

– Taste is built by upbringing, my dear. And upbringing… well, you know. Where would it come from in a girl from the outskirts, who was picking potatoes just yesterday?

“Lyon, wait,” Sasha finally responded. “Mom, why are you doing this?”

– What did I say?

– I’m just telling the truth. It’s better for him to know now than to be embarrassed later.

Alena didn’t answer and left.

She studied at a Moscow university for four years. She worked at a large advertising agency. Her parents gave her a good foundation. All of this would sound like justification. And Alena wasn’t going to make excuses to this woman.

In the evening Sasha came with flowers.

“Forgive her,” he said, kissing Alena on the forehead. “She’s just worried. You know, I’m her only son.”

– Does my majesty mean anything to you at all? Or are my mother’s whims more crucial?

– Lyon, don’t be dramatic. The wedding is in a week, everything will be fine. She’ll get used to you.

– And if he doesn’t get used to it?

Sasha hugged her tighter.

– She’ll get used to it. She has nowhere to go. You’re so perfect.

And now she stood in front of the mirror on her wedding day.
“Maybe there really is something wrong with the dress?” But no – it fit her figure perfectly, not vulgar, not provocative. The makeup was beautiful, the hairdo was graceful. No “gypsyism”.

– Lenka, are you ready? – Sasha’s voice was heard from behind the door.

– Yes, I’m coming!

The ceremony at the registry office passed quickly. Valentina Grigoryevna sat in the front row in a dark blue Italian suit. When the newlyweds were asked to kiss, she started to check her nails.

“Mom, you’re so little,” Sasha muttered to her after the ceremony.

“I don’t understand what you saw in her,” the woman answered just as quietly. “So simple. But he could have married Liza Soboleva. Her father is a general, she was educated in London…”

– Mom, I love Alena.

Love will pass,” Valentina Grigoryevna said dryly. “But the children will maintain. What kind of education will they receive from this provincial woman?”

Alena stood nearby and heard everything.

The restaurant was filled with music and flowers. Alyona knew that her parents and Sasha’s savings were paying for this, but she kept silent.

“It’s a beautiful restaurant,” said Alena’s mother.

“Nothing special,” the mother-in-law shrugged. “I was here recently at Marina Petrovna’s wedding. Her son married a real lady from a good family. That was a grand affair! And the bride was so well-mannered, elegant…”

“Our Alyonochka is also very well-mannered,” Mom smiled tensely.

“Of course, of course,” Valentina Grigoryevna nodded, but her intonation clearly read: “How would you know what real education is?”

The guests looked at each other. Tension hung in the air.

Then Valentina Grigoryevna took the microphone.

ear guests! – she started with a satisfied smile. – I want to say a few words about our bride.

Alena felt everything inside her freeze.

“Of course, she’s young and still has a lot to learn,” the woman continued. “Modern girls for some reason think that the most important thing is a career. But a woman should be able to build coziness in the home, cook, receive guests…”

Pause. The hall froze.

— I hope my son will be patient. After all, it is difficult to retrain an rural adult.

Alena’s mother turned pale. Dad clenched his fists.

“But we will try. As a mother-in-law, I will help Alyona master all the feminine wisdom: how to cook properly, how to receive guests, how to dress with taste…”

The guests began to angry. Someone looked away, surprised.

– And here is the dress, – the voice became especially sweet. – Look at it! Ruffles, frills… This is not a wedding dress, it is a carnival costume!

Silence.

Alena sat as if frozen, feeling hundreds of eyes directed at her.

– And the fabric! – Her voice was getting shriller. – Cheap synthetics! I wouldn’t even think of going out in public in that!

Something inside Alena suddenly fired.

She stood up abruptly, grabbed her mother-in-law by the shoulders—she didn’t even have time to know what was happening—and with one movement pressed her face right into the center of the three-tiered wedding cake.

The hall froze.

“I’m tired of your moralizing,” Alena said calmly but clearly. “And I’m tired of being silent.”

She picked up the microphone, brushed the crumbs off it, and turned it on again:

– Dear guests! This is our day, and we will have fun! Musicians – play!

And she went dancing.

The awkwardness of the previous scene displayed. The guests knew: the boring performance was ended, and the real celebration was just beginning. New toasts began to sound – lively, warm, sincere.

“To the bride!” they shouted from different corners.

— For courage!

— To a woman who knows how to say her piece!

Sasha approached his wife when she had caught her breath a little after the dance.

“Lyon…” he said.

“What?” She looked at him defiantly.

“It’s nothing,” he smiled. “I just love you. And… I’m sorry I didn’t stop Mom earlier.”

“It’s okay,” Alena took his hand. “Now she knows who she’s suffering from.”

– He will start talking. But differently.

Valentina Grigoryevna left the restaurant before the main course was finished.

“Where is your mother?” asked one of the guests, looking around.

“She went home,” Sasha answered briefly.

“It’s a pity,” the woman shook her head. “He’ll miss the best part.”

“And the dress is beautiful,” added the neighbor. “Elegant. And frills are fashionable now.”

A month after the wedding, while Alena was cleaning the house, the telephone suddenly rang .

– Hello?

– This is Valentina Grigoryevna. Is Sasha home?