“We’re spending the whole summer at your place, so get the rooms ready!” my husband announced cheerfully after hanging up the phone.
I looked up from my laptop. “Excuse me?” Javier set his phone on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator as casually as if he’d just told me it was going to rain tomorrow.
“The Ortegas are coming in June. They’ll stay until the end of August.” I stared at him.
“Which Ortegas?”
“My cousins. Well, technically, they’re my second cousins. Marcos, Natalia, and the kids.”
It took me a few seconds to remember who he was talking about.
I had seen them exactly twice in eight years.
The first time was at our wedding.
The second was at Javier’s grandmother’s funeral.
They lived almost seven hundred kilometers away, and our relationship consisted mostly of birthday wishes in the family group chat.
“And why are they staying here?”
Javier closed the refrigerator.
“They want to spend the summer near the sea.”
“I understood that. I’m asking why they’re staying in our house.”
“Because we have room.”
I glanced toward the hallway.
Our house had three bedrooms.
Ours.
The room belonging to our seven-year-old daughter, Sofía.
And a small room I used as my home office.
I worked from home four days a week.
“We do not have room for four extra people for three months.”
“Elena, they’re family.”
“They’re four people.”
“The kids can sleep in Sofía’s room.”
“What kids?”
“Daniel is nine, and Alba is five.”
I let out a short laugh.
“Perfect. So three children are supposed to sleep in an eleven-square-meter room all summer.”
Javier frowned.
“We can make it work.”
“And Marcos and Natalia?”
“In your office.”
I stared at him in silence.
“In my office?”
“We’d just have to move the desk out.”
“And where am I supposed to work?”
“In the living room.”
“Four days a week, eight hours a day, with four guests and three children in the house?”
Javier sighed.
“You don’t have to turn this into a problem before they even arrive.”
“Before they arrive? Javier, you didn’t even ask me whether they could come.”
Then something occurred to me.
“Wait. You already told them yes?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
That pause was enough.
“Javier.”
“My mother spoke to them first.”
I closed my laptop.
Of course.
Carmen.
I should have known.
“What does your mother have to do with who stays in our house?”
“They told her they were looking for somewhere to stay for the summer, and Mom mentioned that we had a spare room.”
“We don’t have a spare room. I have an office.”
“To Mom, it’s a room.”
“Mom doesn’t work in there.”
Javier ran a hand through his hair.
“Elena, it’s already been arranged. It would be really awkward to back out now.”
That sentence irritated me more than anything else he had said.
“Awkward for whom?”
“Everyone.”
“No. For you. Because you said yes without asking me.”
“They’re family.”
“How long exactly?”
“They arrive June 12 and leave August 28.”
I opened the calendar on my phone.
Seventy-eight days.
“Seventy-eight days?”
“Don’t count it like that.”
“How would you like me to count it? In seasons?”
Javier pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.
I wasn’t joking.
“Are they going to pay for anything?”
His expression changed.
“Elena…”
“Food. Water. Electricity. Gas. Internet. Anything?”
“We’re not going to charge family rent.”
“I didn’t say rent. I asked whether four people who are going to live here for almost three months will contribute to the expenses.”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask them.” “That would look terrible.”
“Then I think we already have our answer.”
We barely discussed it again that evening.
I thought Javier would reconsider by the next day.
He didn’t.
Two days later, Carmen came over for dinner.
She had barely finished her soup when she smiled.
“Natalia is absolutely thrilled. The children have wanted to spend a summer near the beach for years.”
I put down my spoon.
“I’m happy for them.”
“And it’ll be good for you to have more people in the house. Sofía will have company.”
“Sofía is going to day camp in July.”
Carmen waved a hand dismissively.
“Then cancel it.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
“Why would you pay for camp when her cousins will be here?”
“Because she’s already enrolled, and she likes it.”
“What a waste of money.”
Javier suddenly seemed extremely interested in his plate.
Then Carmen added:
“By the way, Natalia asked whether they could use one of your cars on some days.”
This time, Javier looked up too.
“Our car?”
“Of course. Marcos wants to take the children on day trips, and they don’t want to drive seven hundred kilometers, so they’re coming by train.”
“We have two cars because we both need them,” I said.
“You work from home.”
“Four days a week. On the fifth, I go into the office.”
“Javier can drive you that day.”
I leaned back in my chair.
It was fascinating.
In less than five minutes, Carmen had reorganized my daughter’s summer, my office, my work schedule, and my car.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Carmen didn’t catch the sarcasm.
“Natalia also asked whether you have a beach umbrella.”
“We do.”
“Perfect.” “Carmen,” I said, “did you tell them they could use our car?”
“I only said it probably wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Well, it is.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Elena, don’t be so inhospitable.”
“Hospitality is making dinner for guests. Handing over my office, my car, and my home for seventy-eight days is something else.”
“In our family, we’ve always helped each other.”
“Then perhaps they can stay at your house.”
Carmen gave a little laugh.
“We only have two bedrooms.”
“So do we, if we stop pretending my workplace is a hotel room.”
Javier finally stepped in.
“Okay. Enough. We’ll discuss this ourselves.”
Carmen shook her head.
“I don’t understand what there is to discuss. Marcos has already booked his vacation time. Natalia has organized everything. The children are excited.”
“They should have thought about that before planning a vacation in a house that doesn’t belong to them,” I replied.
Dinner ended twenty minutes later.
When Carmen left, Javier closed the door and looked at me.
“You could have been a little more diplomatic.”
“Diplomatic?”
“Mom was only trying to help.”
“Your mother offered four people our house, my office, and our car without asking us.”
“She didn’t offer the car.”
“She said they could probably use it.”
“Fine. That part was wrong.”
“Only that part?”
Javier said nothing.
I walked over to the sideboard and took out a notebook.
“Let’s do the math.”
“Elena, please.”
“No. I want to understand exactly what ‘just one summer’ means.” I roughly calculated the increase in food, water, electricity, and other expenses.
I wasn’t trying to get an exact figure.
I just wanted Javier to understand that four people staying for almost three months was not a weekend visit.
“Probably another fifteen hundred to two thousand euros,” I said.
“They’re not going to eat lobster every day.”
“Two adults and two children for seventy-eight days. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, showers, laundry, air conditioning…”
“They’ll buy things too.”
“Did they tell you that?”
Silence.
“Did they, Javier?”
“No.”
“Then ask them.”
The next morning, Javier messaged Marcos.
The reply came ten minutes later.
“Of course we’ll buy some things too. But we thought staying with family would help us save quite a bit. Money’s a little tight for us this year.”
I read the message twice.
“See?” Javier said. “They’ll buy things.”
“I read a different part.”
“Which one?”
“‘Help us save quite a bit.’”
Javier put down his phone.
“Don’t start.”
I didn’t.
I waited.
Three days later, Natalia created a WhatsApp group called “Summer Together ☀️.”
The members were Natalia, Marcos, Javier, Carmen, and me.
Her first message was a list.
“Just so we can get everything organized! ❤️
We arrive June 12 at 1:40 p.m.
It would be great if Javier could pick us up at the station.
Elena, could you empty the closet in your office? We’re bringing quite a lot of clothes.
The kids can sleep with Sofía.
We’ll need two sets of keys.
Do you have bikes for the kids?
Oh, and Marcos will be working some mornings, so he’ll need a good internet connection.”
I stared at the screen.
Not one real question.
Everything had already been decided.
Then another message appeared.
“And don’t buy too much food before we arrive because Daniel is really picky 😂 I’ll send you a list.”
A minute later, the list arrived.
Oat milk.
A specific brand of yogurt.
Sugar-free cereal.
A particular kind of turkey breast.
Mineral water.
Pulp-free juice.
Whole-grain bread from a specific bakery.
Vanilla ice cream “without bits in it.” Then: “Marcos doesn’t drink regular coffee, only decaf capsules.”
I took a deep breath.
Javier was working.
I didn’t reply.
At five that afternoon, another message arrived.
From Carmen.
“Elena, Natalia is asking if you could also clear out half the closet in your bedroom because everything won’t fit in the office.”
That was when I made my decision.
I opened my laptop.
I searched for hotels and apartments in our area.
Prices were high in June and July.
Especially this close to the sea.
An apartment for four people cost between 110 and 160 euros a night.
I took a screenshot.
Then I opened the family group.
I typed a message.
Read it once.
And pressed Send.
“Hi, everyone. I think there’s been a major misunderstanding. Javier agreed to the visit thinking it would be for a few days, but now that we know it’s 78 days and would involve turning my office into a bedroom, having Sofía share her room, lending out our car, rearranging our work schedules, and having six people living together for almost three months, I want to make something clear: we can’t host you for the entire summer.
We’d be happy to see you, and you’re welcome to stay with us from June 12 to June 16.
For the rest of your vacation, you’ll need to book accommodation.
I’m attaching a few nearby options.”
It took exactly seventeen seconds.
Natalia was typing.
Then she stopped.
Marcos was typing.
He stopped too.
Carmen called Javier.
I could hear his phone vibrating in the office.
Then Natalia’s message arrived.
“Excuse me? We’ve already bought the tickets.”
I replied:
“The tickets are for the train, not for our house.”
Five seconds later: “We were told we could stay with you.”
I wrote back:
“A person who does not own this house told you that you could stay here.”
Carmen immediately wrote:
“I’m Javier’s mother. I’m not a stranger.”
“I know, Carmen. But it still isn’t your house.”
The group went silent.
Two minutes later, Javier came out of the office with his phone in his hand.
“My mother is furious.”
“I can imagine.”
“Natalia says there’s no point in coming if they have to pay for accommodation.”
“Then they can change their plans.”
“The tickets are nonrefundable.”
“How much were they?”
“I don’t know. About 180 euros for all four.”
I looked at him.
“So we were supposed to spend almost two thousand euros so they wouldn’t lose 180?”
Javier opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
His phone vibrated.
He read the message.
“They’ve canceled the trip.”
“Seriously?”
He showed me the screen.
Marcos had written:
“We talked it over. Between an apartment, food, and a rental car, the summer would be too expensive for us. We’ll probably just spend a few days with Natalia’s parents in August instead.” I looked at Javier.
“So they didn’t actually want to spend the summer with us.”
“Elena…”
“They wanted to spend the summer for free.”
He didn’t answer.
A few seconds later, one final message arrived from Natalia.
“What a shame. The kids were so excited.”
I almost left it there.
Then another message appeared.
From Carmen.
“I hope you’re satisfied. You ruined an entire family’s vacation just because you weren’t willing to share a little.”
This time, Javier picked up his own phone.
He typed for a few seconds.
Then sent:
“Mom, Elena didn’t ruin anything. I made the mistake of saying yes without discussing it with her first. And you made the mistake of offering things that weren’t yours to offer. Let’s drop it.”
Carmen didn’t reply.
Natalia left the group.
Marcos did the same a minute later.
I looked at the screen.
“Well,” I said. “Looks like the ‘Summer Together’ group lasted less time than summer itself.” Javier laughed, though he tried to hide it.
Then he came over and sat across from me.
“I should have asked you first.”
“Yes.”
“And I shouldn’t have agreed to three months.”
“No.”
“Are you still really angry?”
I thought about it.
“Less than yesterday.”
“And they can still come for four days?”
“Of course.”
Javier smiled.
“That’s pretty generous.”
“Don’t confuse hospitality with all-inclusive service.”
Two weeks later, Carmen brought up the subject again over lunch.
“Marcos and Natalia are going to spend August with Natalia’s parents after all,” she remarked pointedly.
“Good for them,” I replied.
“Their house is much smaller than yours, and they’re still willing to take them in.”
I looked up.
“For the whole month?” Carmen hesitated.
“Well… ten days.” “Oh.”
I went back to eating.
Javier had to hide his smile behind his glass.
Carmen never mentioned the summer again.
And my office remained my office.
Our car stayed in our garage.
Sofía went to her summer camp.
And that summer, we learned something pretty useful:
When someone cheerfully announces that they’re going to live in your house for three months without even asking you first, you don’t need a huge argument to cancel their plans.
Sometimes one simple sentence is enough:
“Perfect. Here are the prices for nearby accommodations.”