{"id":9692,"date":"2026-05-09T17:56:20","date_gmt":"2026-05-09T17:56:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/oldagedhumor.com\/?p=9692"},"modified":"2026-05-09T17:56:20","modified_gmt":"2026-05-09T17:56:20","slug":"julia-did-you-at-least-buy-the-crab-gabor-shouted-from-the-living-room-with-the-relaxed-arrogance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/oldagedhumor.com\/?p=9692","title":{"rendered":"J\u00falia, Did You At Least Buy The Crab?\u201d G\u00e1bor shouted from the living room with the relaxed arrogance"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n

J\u00falia, did you manage to get the crab?\u201d G\u00e1bor called out from the living room with such comfortable superiority, as if he were inquiring about the stock market trends, not about his own dinner, which I had financed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Without a word, I placed a package of frozen capelin on the kitchen counter.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cWhat kind of crab are you thinking of, G\u00e1bor?\u201d I asked, wiping my hands on the tea towel. \u201cYesterday we settled the utility bills, and the rates have gone up again. Today I bought my weekly staple food. Mediterranean king crab simply doesn\u2019t fit into this category.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My forty-eight-year-old husband appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing a burgundy silk robe embroidered with gold dragons\u2014my ill-advised investment in \u201chome comfort\u201d from my New Year\u2019s bonus.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI asked for it!\u201d she spread her arms dramatically, adjusting her slipping collar. \u201cYesterday\u2019s ordeal at the employment center completely exhausted my nervous system. That place is full of incompetent people! My brain needs easily digestible protein and iodine! As a chef in a proper restaurant, you could really make sure your husband gets normal food.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cProtein and iodine are also perfectly absorbed from capelin,\u201d I replied calmly, taking out my knife and cutting board. \u201cIn fact, cheaper sea fish often contain more useful trace elements. The Japanese figured out how to make surimi from white-fleshed fish in the twelfth century, so that they could extract the most nutrients for little money. It\u2019s time for you to get acquainted with the puritanism of the samurai.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I dredged the fish fillets in flour and slid them into the hot pan. The crispy, golden brown crust was the result of the Maillard reaction\u2014the combination of amino acids and sugars under the influence of heat. The laws of chemistry operate reliably and predictably. If only the rules of human conscience were as consistent.<\/span><\/p>\n

G\u00e1bor snorted in resentment, then spectacularly turned his back on the institution of marriage and retreated to the TV to nurse his grievances. I watched him and felt something inside me slowly but irreversibly solidify.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Five years. It\u2019s been a long, exhausting five years since my husband embarked on a \u201cjourney of self-realization.\u201d He used to work as a security guard in a warehouse that sells premium sanitary ware, but he quit because, he claims, his feet got caught in a draft. After that, he worked as a driver for a contractor for a short time, but he didn\u2019t stay there either: his boss brazenly expected punctuality, and G\u00e1bor saw punctuality as a sign of servility. Since then, he has been searching for himself, living off my salary and demanding special recipes to maintain his dwindling vitality.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n

\n
\n

“Don’t lie in my house!” Mark shouted angrily.<\/span><\/h1>\n
It is pathetic and unfair, yet infinitely painful.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n

“Do you even realize what you’re doing?”<\/span><\/p>\n

It wasn’t the frying pan that flew. It was the salad bowl that cut through the air. It was a thick-walled, heavy glass, full of French salad that I had been chopping after work, while M\u00e1rk’s socks were banging on the drum in the washing machine, and the kettle was slowly cooling on the ledge. The bowl hit the wall next to the fridge, breaking into shards, and the mayonnaise-covered fries slid leisurely down the light wallpaper.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stood at the sink, my hands dripping wet, watching a shard of glass roll across the cold tile.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Mark, are you crazy?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Me? Am I crazy? \u2014 he stepped closer, pulling his jacket off as if it were strangling him. \u2014 They’re blocking my bank card, they’re calling me from work every minute, there’s no decent food at home, and you’re putting this in front of me?<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u2014 First of all, there’s food at home. Second, your card wasn’t blocked because of me. And your boss isn’t calling you because of me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Well, it’s starting. It always is, Eszter. Is the performance coming now?<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not giving a lecture. I’m just saying: don’t yell at me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you screaming? When was the last time you spoke to me normally?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“And when did you speak to me like a human?”<\/span><\/p>\n

He grinned. Not because it was funny, but because something inside him had long since broken.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 To a human? Do you behave like a human? Where did half of your salary go?<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 I paid the utility bill. And the expired internet bill that you forgot to pay.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Don’t lie.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not lying.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t lie in my house!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Here I just exhaled tiredly. I wasn’t scared right away, nor was I offended. I was simply tired of it. I’ve been listening to this album about “my house” for the third year. While the apartment belonged to his mother. We did the renovation together. I bought the sofa with my bonus. I brought the curtains, the dishes, the iron, half the furniture here.<\/span><\/p>\n

“This isn’t your house, Mark. Leave this alone. Aren’t you bored yet?”<\/span><\/p>\n

He came quite close. I could smell the rain on him, the cigarettes, the sour vapor of the coffee machine\u2014and the anger. Anger really does have a smell. Metallic, cold.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Say it again.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s not your house.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He hit me with an open palm. Not with full force, but my head tilted to the side, the sound ringing in my ears. I looked at him.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Did you hit me just now?”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“And what did you say earlier?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“You hit me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t make a scene.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Me? Scene\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

The second slap hit my cheekbone. Then he pushed me on the shoulder. My hip hit the edge of the table, I knocked over a stool, I could barely stay on my feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Mark, go away.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Otherwise, what will happen?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I said, move away.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Anyway? Will you call mommy? What else do you have besides your tongue?”<\/span><\/p>\n

The phone was lying on the ledge. I reached for it, but it caught my wrist.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t you dare touch it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 Let go.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I said no!”<\/span><\/p>\n

He pulled me so hard that my elbow hit the radiator. The pain shot up my arm and into my fingers. I hissed, trying to free myself. Then he punched me in the shoulder, then again\u2014maybe around my collarbone. I couldn’t remember exactly. I crouched down, protecting my head. He hit me quickly, furiously, as if he didn’t want to punish me, but to get something out of himself.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then just as suddenly he stopped.<\/span><\/p>\n

He towered over me, panting, and I sat on the kitchen stone, my hand pressed to my mouth. My fingers turned red.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPack up,\u201d he said quietly. His whisper was worse than his shout. \u201cGet out of here in an hour.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

“I have nowhere to go.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s not my problem.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Was it like that before?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Enough. I’m going to my mother. And don’t try to complain to her. I’ll tell her you’re making a scene again.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He grabbed his keys, slammed the door shut so that the coats on the hanger shook, and left.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I stayed in the kitchen. I could hear the monotonous dripping of the tap from the bathroom. I thought how strange it was: glass, when it breaks, explodes loudly, everyone sees it. But a person can be broken into pieces almost silently. From the outside, the only thing that changes is the way they breathe.<\/span><\/p>\n

I got up and went to the mirror. My mouth was already swollen. A blue spot was starting to develop under my eye, red marks on my neck. Here’s the sample family: refrigerator, car loan, ordering bottled water, and a beating between dinner and laundry.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stared at my phone for a long time before picking it up. The last person I wanted to call was M\u00e1ria. My mother-in-law. The woman who could tell with just one look that you were doing everything wrong: the soup was salty, the curtains were dark, you were shouting, you were saying hello with the wrong accent.<\/span><\/p>\n

But I had no one else besides him.<\/span><\/p>\n

After the third ring, he answered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Yes?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Maria, it’s me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I hear you. What’s up again?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Come for your son.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Silence.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Have you been drinking?<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 No.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Then speak clearly. I don’t want to ask you riddles. Mark just called me. He said you’re acting like a clown again.<\/span><\/p>\n

I sat on the edge of the tub, staring at the floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 It’s not a circus. His son beat him.<\/span><\/p>\n

All background noise on the other end of the line died away, as if he had gone into another room.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What did you say?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What you heard. He beat you. If you think I’m exaggerating, come and see. If he doesn’t come, I’ll call the police and take a physical examination.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Eszter, don’t threaten me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not threatening. I’m informing.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you sure you didn’t provoke him?” his voice was no longer harsh, more confused, but the question still hit me in the face.<\/span><\/p>\n

I smiled, and my mouth immediately hurt.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Sure. I probably smeared the salad on the wall. I hit my elbow on the radiator. I made the monocle for myself. It’s very convenient this way. Come. Or don’t come. But don’t say later that you didn’t know about it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I hung up. For the first time that evening, I felt not fear, but a kind of pure, cold anger. Like winter tap water: sobering.<\/span><\/p>\n

He arrived forty minutes later.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not<\/span><\/p>\n

She didn’t arrive alone. She was brought by a driver. And not in her home robe, hurriedly, as I would have expected from a startled mother, but in an elegant coat, with a bag on her arm, her back straight. She entered as if she had come for an important meeting, not to see the daughter-in-law she had endured for years with gritted teeth.<\/span><\/p>\n

He opened the door with his own key. He went in. He looked around the kitchen.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 My Jesus\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

Then he saw me.<\/span><\/p>\n

At that moment, it was as if all emotion had been turned off. His face went blank. It wasn’t tender, it wasn’t compassionate\u2014it was simply quiet and withdrawn.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Did he do it?”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 No. The plumber.<\/span><\/p>\n

My voice was sharp, but he didn’t respond.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Stand in the light.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“I am not a soldier.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“And I’m not kidding. Come here.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I walked over. Without a word, he looked over my face, my neck, my arms. When his finger touched my shoulder, I flinched.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 Does it hurt?<\/span><\/p>\n

“What do you think?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Very much?”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“So much so that maybe you shouldn’t keep asking if I provoked you.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He turned, walked into the kitchen, saw the broken glass on the floor. He sighed, then spoke surprisingly calmly:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 The driver is waiting downstairs in the car. I told him to stay. If necessary, we’ll go to the emergency room.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 It is necessary.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Okay.<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t expect that word. Not “we’ll see,” not “let’s not involve the police.” Just a simple, clear “okay.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He sat down at the table and took off his gloves.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What happened before all this?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What do you mean?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Not just today. In the past few months. Don’t embellish now. I’m not at the age to be fed fairy tales anymore.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I leaned against the doorframe.<\/span><\/p>\n

“At first he just yelled. Then he pushed. Later he grabbed my arm. Today he’s even hit me. He seems to be improving.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Since when?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 About half a year.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Why didn’t you say anything?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Who? You?” He’s barely tolerated it so far.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t distract me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not being harsh. It’s just a fact. He would have sided with her even then.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He answered after a long pause.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Maybe, a long time ago.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“And now?”<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked into my eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I look at you now and I see my thirty-two-year-old self.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t know what to say.<\/span><\/p>\n

He went to the window. He looked out into the yard, where someone in a hood was smoking a cigarette under the lamplight. He wasn’t talking to me, but to the glass.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 My husband beat me for seven years. Not every day. Not even every week. That’s why it was so easy to lie to myself. One day he threw a chair at me, the next day he brought me a cake. Once he yelled at me, later he took me on a trip. He squeezed my throat, then brought me home with a rose. And all the while you keep saying: it’s not that bad. Other people have it worse. We’re a family. We have a child. He has a difficult nature. His job is stressful. I have a sharp tongue. And so the circle goes, until one day you realize that you’re forty years old, you have a stomach ulcer, you speak in a whisper, and your son has seen more than he should have.<\/span><\/p>\n

I swallowed hard.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Does Mark know about this?”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 No. I told him his father died of a heart attack. It was a nicely made-up story. I didn’t want my son to grow up in this filth.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It didn’t work.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“No,” he replied dryly. “He grew up and the dirt found him anyway. Or he was always in it. I don’t know.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He sat back down and then unexpectedly asked in a different voice:<\/span><\/p>\n

“Have you ever seen the apartment papers?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What papers?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 The property.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 No. He said it was his. That everything was in his name a long time ago.<\/span><\/p>\n

He smiled bitterly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 He talked a lot. The apartment is in my name. Entirely. He’s just registered here.<\/span><\/p>\n

I’m out of breath.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Wait… then all this time…”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 He lied. To you, to me, and probably to himself. It felt good to him to be a host, especially on someone else’s property.<\/span><\/p>\n

“And you left that?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I thought that was how you felt responsible. What a strategy, right? I raised a boss for myself out of thin air.”<\/span><\/p>\n

For the first time, I didn’t see my mother-in-law in her, but a tired woman with dry hands, perfect hair, and so much self-blame that my resentment seemed childish next to her.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What happens now?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Now? \u2014 he took out his phone. \u2014 I’ll call a locksmith and a lawyer. First we’ll change the locks. Then we’ll go to the doctor for a physical examination. Then I’ll declare my son out of here in court. And we’ll see how long masculine pride lasts when there’s no place to live, no money, and no mother to always keep the pillow under.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you serious?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Eszter,” she looked at me, “I’ve been stupid for too long. I’ve run out of time now.”<\/span><\/p>\n

We spent the next hour and a half packing up Mark’s things.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was the strangest night of my life. I handed out the bags, he opened the cabinets. Shirts, sweaters, belts, warmers, chargers, razors, boxes full of “important” stuff. At the bottom of the dresser we found a stack of deposit checks, old notepads, and some paperwork about payday loans.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is this?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

He scanned the pages and turned pale.<\/span><\/p>\n

“The little bastard.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What’s on it?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Loans. Several. He paid one back, two are still alive. And this here,\u201d he pulled out another piece of paper, \u201cis an authorization to request your credit rating. Where did this come from?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I took it out of his hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

“This is not my signature.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 I see.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You didn’t take out a loan in my name, did you?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Of course, probably. He took a picture of your passport, then took action. The repertoire is complete: an abused wife, a debt tied to his neck so that he doesn’t accidentally relax.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I sat down on the stone in the hallway.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 I will kill him.<\/span><\/p>\n

“No,” said M\u00e1ria firmly. “You don’t have to kill him. You have to systematically make his life difficult. That’s more effective and legal.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you kidding me?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Not at all. I’ll laugh when she realizes that the all-you-can-eat buffet called mother and wife is closed.<\/span><\/p>\n

We put three large bags in front of the door, and were just closing the fourth when the key creaked in the lock.<\/span><\/p>\n

M\u00e1rk entered cheerfully. He must have spilled it on the hopper somewhere along the way. When he saw the packages, me, his mother, the smile immediately froze from his face.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What kind of circus is this?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“It’s not a circus,” Maria replied calmly. “It’s a move.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Whose?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Yours.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mark laughed, but his voice was forced.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Seriously? He complained, and you rushed to play the heroine? Come on. You know exactly what he’s like. He provokes you until you explode. I say one word, he hits back with ten.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Maria did not raise her voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

“And the solution to this is to raise your hand on him?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Nobody beat him up!” He got two slaps because he was talking nonsense.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTwo?\u201d He was surprised by how even my voice sounded. \u201cShall I undress in the air and let\u2019s count the \u201ctwos\u201d on my spots together?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“Don’t make a scene.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 A scene? \u2014 I stepped closer to him. \u2014 A month ago you held me against the wall by the throat. Was that also \u201cnothing\u201d? You twisted my arm in the winter when I wanted to go into the other room. Was that also a joke? You took a picture of my passport so you could take out loans in my name. Is that also a sign of love?<\/span><\/p>\n

He froze.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“What kind of loans?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Instead of answering, Maria threw a sheaf of papers at him. The pages scattered across the floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Those. Pick them up. Read them when they’re at your feet.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

M\u00e1rk looked at us in turn, then kicked a sheet away in irritation.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You’re both crazy. Mom, are you seriously turning against him now? Whose side are you on?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“On the side of the man who doesn’t get hit in my house.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“In your house?” he snapped. “This again? For twenty years you’ve been saying that everything is mine! How could it be me!”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I said live with integrity. I didn’t mean rule like a beast. Don’t mix the two.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“And he’s become a saint now? I guess he’s already told you how I ruined his life.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s not start this again,\u201d I interrupted. \u201cDon\u2019t try to make yourself a victim.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

“Then what do you see?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 A thirty-five-year-old man who lives in a big vest in someone else’s apartment and is used to his mother smoothing over the consequences.<\/span><\/p>\n

He took a step towards me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Shut up!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Mary stood between us. Her small stature and dark clothes made her presence seem imposing.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Just try.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Mom, step aside.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 No. You go now.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You’re throwing me out of my own home because of him?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Finish the sentence,” he said quietly. “Say it so I know for sure who I raised.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Mark lowered his voice and touched his mother’s arm.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Come on, don’t do it. I was nervous. There’s chaos at work, money is tight, and he’s always talking nonsense. Something snapped inside me. It happens.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 It happens to those who look at women like punching bags.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You tolerated Father too!” he snapped. “Why are you preaching now?”<\/span><\/p>\n

I saw Maria’s face tremble for a moment, but she immediately regained her composure.<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s exactly why I can’t stand it now.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 Here?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 I’ve listened to you once. I won’t again. The bags are outside. Put the key on the dresser. Tomorrow your belongings will go to a rented room in K\u0151b\u00e1nya. I’ve paid for a month. The rest is your business.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You won’t even let me live properly?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Do you know what it means to be properly? It means that a man works and doesn’t yell at home. That his wife doesn’t flinch when the key turns in the lock. That his mother doesn’t shame him.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you going to erase me from your life because of a woman?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Not because of him. Because of you. You worked hard for it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked at me. The anger in his eyes was replaced by panic\u2014the kind you see when someone realizes they have nothing left to blackmail.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Eszter, do you really want to tear this whole thing apart? We fought, and that’s it. Everyone fights. Do you want to break up a family?<\/span><\/p>\n

I laughed, bitterly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Family? You call it that I guessed from your steps how much you drank? That I counted in the store, would there be money left for dinner after I paid for your \u201ctemporary worries\u201d? That you reminded me every day that I am nothing without you, because I live in this \u201cyour\u201d apartment? This wasn\u2019t family. More like a convenience for you.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Well, who will you need next?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s the funniest question tonight,” Maria remarked dryly. “When a man says, ‘Who’s going to want you?’ he’s usually afraid that he’ll be left redundant.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Mark fell silent, then suddenly pulled his coat off the hanger.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Okay. If you want war, you’ll get it. Mom, you’ll call me back. Eszter, you’ll regret it. One month, and you’ll be begging.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I won’t,” I replied.<\/span><\/p>\n

“We’ll see.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“We won’t see anything,” Maria concluded. “Go.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He left. He didn’t slam the door, he didn’t make a dramatic scene. He just picked up the bags, muttered something under his breath, and walked out, as if waiting until the last moment to be called back.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nobody spoke.<\/span><\/p>\n

We were sitting in the emergency room at 1 a.m. While the doctor filled out the report, M\u00e1ria waited in the hallway, my bag in her lap, her gaze fixed on nothing.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what\u2019s most disgusting?\u201d he said later.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 What?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 That I’ve seen what he’s become for a long time. I’ve heard how he talks to you. I’ve seen how he looks down on you, how he lies. But until I saw blood, I kept saying: adults, they’ll figure it out. Comfortable attitude. Cowardly too.<\/span><\/p>\n

“He had no duty…”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But yes. I am his mother. This is not an excuse, it is a responsibility.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I was afraid of you.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He smiled, his mouth crooked.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You did well. I’m not an easy case.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not afraid now.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m just an angry old woman now,” she replied quietly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next day, the process that is shown in movies with quick cuts and music began. In reality, however, it was endless paperwork, telephones, serial numbers, photocopies, applications, legal advice, a notary, a district attorney, bank transactions, and a locksmith who, while changing the lock, shyly avoids our gaze, as if ashamed of other people’s stories.<\/span><\/p>\n

At first, M\u00e1rk called me. Then he sent messages. Later, he showed up in front of the house.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Open it. We need to talk.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want to achieve with this?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMom, come down, let\u2019s talk.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The messages took on an increasingly dark tone.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou are ruining my life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cI spent a fortune on you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

“You are unviable without me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Maria put on her glasses, read them through, and then said in a dry, cutting voice:<\/span><\/p>\n

“See how practical it is? It hits first, then records itself as an investment.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Two weeks later, it turned out that M\u00e1rk had taken out a small online loan in my name. Not a huge amount that would ruin me, but it was just enough to make me realize again: someone can be by your side for years, yet remain a stranger in every detail.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t understand how he was able to do this…” I said one evening when we were having tea in the kitchen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 It’s very simple, though \u2014 Maria answered calmly. \u2014 If someone gets used to everyone around them serving them, over time the boundaries blur. Someone else’s money, someone else’s body, someone else’s fate \u2014 for them, it’s all just an extension of their own hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“And what if it really changes?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That’s not your job anymore. It’s not your duty to wait for a miracle.”<\/span><\/p>\n

A month later, when the bruises had healed, he presented himself with a dossier.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

“You’re going somewhere tomorrow.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Where to?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 To a notary.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u2014 Why?<\/span><\/p>\n

“It will be revealed there.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t have the strength to argue.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

In the notary’s office, he spoke briefly and matter-of-factly. At first I barely paid attention. Then the picture slowly came together.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Wait… what are you doing?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What I should have done a long time ago.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“You’re not serious about this. I can’t accept this.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Of course.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Mary\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Eszter, don’t start. I’m not giving away a castle. I’m just transferring the apartment to someone who doesn’t scare the walls to death.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Why me?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Because if you stay with me, M\u00e1rk will never leave you alone. He begs, bargains, complains, manipulates. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life doing this. I want peace. And because you, unlike him, don’t live off others, but stand on your own two feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

“This is too big a deal.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 No. It was too much, for years I pretended my son could be fixed with love. He can’t. There are some people who don’t need to be saved, but locked out. And don’t confuse pity with motherhood.<\/span><\/p>\n

I signed the papers with a trembling hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the evening we sat in the same kitchen. The wall was covered with new wallpaper, and in place of the stain was a small calendar with a picture of Lake Balaton. M\u00e1ria bought it from a newsagent and just said: \u201cAt least something nice will look back from here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Outside, April dew washed the windows. Soup simmered on the stove. Simple, chicken soup. The kind people eat for dinner\u2014not the kind they cook for arguments.<\/span><\/p>\n

My phone vibrated. Unknown number.<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked at the display.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Pick it up,” Maria said calmly.<\/span><\/p>\n

I picked it up.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Yes?<\/span><\/p>\n

At first there was only a sigh. Then M\u00e1rk’s voice, muffled, as if it were wrinkled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 It’s me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 I know.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Is my mother there?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Here.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Give it to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 No.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Esther, don’t play.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not playing. Tell me what you want.”<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

He was silent for a few seconds, then spoke unusually quietly:<\/span><\/p>\n

“I was finally fired today.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t answer.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I thought she’d help me. My mother. She’ll yell a line, get offended, and then get me out of trouble anyway. Like always.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Maria sat opposite me, her gaze calm, she gave no sign, she didn’t whisper.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Now I’m sitting here in this stinky apartment, surrounded by cat odor and fried onions, and for the first time I feel like no one owes me anything.<\/span><\/p>\n

This sentence was so foreign to him that it took me a while to react.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Congratulations. Useful insight.<\/span><\/p>\n

There was bitter laughter.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you kidding?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 No. Not anymore. I might have explained myself a while ago. Not now.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I didn’t become like this overnight.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t care about the time.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But I do,” he said quietly. “I’ve been thinking about my father all day. I always looked down, thinking I was different. Then I remembered how you instinctively turned your shoulder in the kitchen when I came near you. I’m the same. Exactly the same.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Raindrops dripped down the window.<\/span><\/p>\n

“What are you waiting for now? How can I untie you?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 I don’t know.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Then decide first.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you happy?”<\/span><\/p>\n

The question seemed stupid, yet it was very human.<\/span><\/p>\n

I put down the cup.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not happy. I just don’t dread the evenings anymore. That’s enough for now.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Silence.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTell mom\u2026\u201d he began, then paused. \u201cI\u2019d rather do nothing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The line is broken.<\/span><\/p>\n

I placed the phone on the table with the screen facing down.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did he say?\u201d asked Mary.<\/span><\/p>\n

“How he realized: no one owes him anything.”<\/span><\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Late, but perhaps not in vain.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Do you think he’s serious?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t know. And honestly? It’s none of our business anymore.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I stood up, walked to the window, and saw myself in the glass. There were no spots on my face. There was no frightened shadow in my eyes. Just fatigue\u2014and a kind of quiet perseverance. A woman looked back at me, having endured a dirty winter and now finally breathing cleaner air.<\/span><\/p>\n

For a long time I thought the world was simple: there are our own and there are strangers. Now I know that it’s not so black and white. A stranger can stand in front of you like a shield. And a blood relative can kick you in the ass. What changes in these times is not the order of the world \u2014 but you yourself. You learn not to believe words, but how you are treated.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Eszter \u2014 said M\u00e1ria from the kitchen \u2014 would you like some soup, or should we let it cool down?<\/span><\/p>\n

I turned around and smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Please. And you know what?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 What?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Thank you for not coming here as a mother. But simply as a human being.<\/span><\/p>\n

He snorted softly, adjusting the cup on the saucer.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t get used to it. I’m still an unpleasant woman.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“But at least it’s straight.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Well. They praise me in my own apartment.<\/span><\/p>\n

I laughed to myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

It dawned on me that this was the first laugh in this apartment that wasn’t tense, wasn’t cautious, wasn’t paying attention to the sound of footsteps in the hallway. It wasn’t preparing for the fact that I had to protect my head.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

J\u00falia, did you manage to get the crab?\u201d G\u00e1bor called out from the living room with such comfortable superiority, as if he were inquiring about the stock market trends, not about his own dinner, which I had financed. Without a word, I placed a package of frozen capelin on the kitchen counter. \u201cWhat kind of crab are you thinking of, G\u00e1bor?\u201d I asked, wiping my hands on the tea towel. \u201cYesterday we settled the utility bills, and the rates have gone up again. 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