No Matter How Many Times I Asked My Mother-in-Law to Avoid Late Visits, She Just Won’t Listen.

Author Harlan CovingtonReading 3 minViews 1

Dear Diary,

No matter how often I begged my motherinlaw to stop dropping by at night, she simply wouldnt listen. For some reason she believes she has the right to turn up at our doorstep unannounced. Our little boy, Oliver, is just one year old and Ive managed to settle him into a strict routine. If he doesnt fall asleep by eight oclock, I simply dont put him to bed at all the ensuing two hours are a nightmare for everyone.

Talking to Evelyn about it feels pointless. Every plea I make for her to avoid latenight visits falls on deaf ears. She just doesnt grasp that popping in to see her oneyearold grandson at that hour is a terrible idea.

Work keeps me late, she says. She spends a halfhour playing with Oliver, making him laugh and then, as if on cue, Im left with a sleepless night trying to get the baby to settle. He gets fussy, he cries, and Im left wondering what to do.

Tonight we were about to start the film wed chosen for a quiet evening when the doorbell rang. James opened the door to find his mother standing there, suitcase in hand. My anger flared instantly. Oliver had just begun teething again and was already irritable; we treasured any calm hour we could get. I forced myself to stay composed after all, shes my husbands mother.

I put on a feigned look of distress, pressed a hand to my cheek and shouted, Youre coming at the worst possible time! My tooth is killing me I cant bear it. I dont want to go to the dentist alone. Stay with the baby a while longer, and well be right back. James was bewildered, hurriedly dressed, and we all fled the house.

What on earth is this drama? James muttered.

At least well get somewhere alone. And dont forget to switch off the phone! I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

We didnt get back until after midnight. Evelyn had to flag down a black cab to return home. Oliver lay in his cot, surrounded by dirty nappies, crumpled clothes and a chaotic scatter of toys, rattles and a stray pacifier a true artistic mess. Evelyn looked exhausted, her makeup smeared, her skirt stained with baby mess. Since that night shes come much less often, and certainly not at such ungodly hours.

My Brother Told Me Our Mum Had Laid Hands on His Wife, and I Immediately Knew Something Was Seriously Wrong During our holiday, Mum called me in a fit of hysteria, unable to stop crying and completely distraught. After the call, I reached out to my brother to find out what had happened, but he replied coldly, insisting I should just ask Mum myself — after all, I should know why she was so upset. He even said she’d got what she deserved. Feeling utterly confused, my husband and I decided to cut our holiday short. Despite the expensive tickets, we rushed home. When we arrived, Mum was still in pieces, unable to calm down. I gave her some camomile tea to soothe her nerves, and she told us what had happened. Apparently, when she’d returned from work, she was horrified to find her pregnant daughter-in-law covered in bruises, which made her even more concerned. Mum immediately rushed over, gave her a hug, and asked what had happened. Just then, my brother walked in, and his wife suddenly leapt up and started shouting that my mum had assaulted her. Mum was left standing there, completely bewildered, unable to process what was going on. My brother, believing his wife, was outraged and threw our mum out of the house on the spot. Later, he took his wife to the hospital, where, tragically, she lost the baby. He refused to listen to any explanations, avoided our calls and held a grudge against our mother. But deep down, I sensed something was terribly off and chose to trust Mum’s account. Thankfully, the truth finally came out — and from a totally unexpected source. It turned out, my sister-in-law’s friend, who proved to be a decent soul, told me the real story. She revealed it was actually my sister-in-law’s calculated plan all along to manipulate her husband into evicting Mum from the house. She’d even gone so far as to take deliberate action to end her own pregnancy. When my brother learned the truth, he was furious and threw his wife out immediately. He then apologised to our mum with all his heart. A mother’s heart is always forgiving; despite all the ordeal, my mum welcomed her son home with open arms.

Couldn’t Bring Myself to Love Him — Girls, be honest—who here is Lily? — The woman eyed me and my friend with a cheeky grin. —I’m Lily. Why? — I replied, perplexed. —Here’s a letter for you, Lily. It’s from William, — the stranger produced a crumpled envelope from her dressing gown pocket and handed it to me. —From William? Where is he? — I asked, surprised. —He’s been moved to the adult care home. He waited for you, Lily, like a miracle from heaven. Wore his eyes out. He asked me to check his spelling before he gave me the letter to read. Didn’t want to embarrass himself before you. Well, lunch is soon. I work here, I’m one of the carers, — she gave me a reproachful glance, sighed, and hurried off. …One summer, my friend Sally and I strolled onto the grounds of an unknown institution. We were sixteen, enjoying the freedom of the holidays, craving adventure. Sally and I sat on a welcoming bench, chatting and laughing. We didn’t notice two lads approaching. —Hello, girls! Bit bored, are you? Shall we get acquainted? — One boy reached out, — William. I answered, —I’m Lily, and this is my mate Sally. And your quiet friend? —Leonard, — the second lad said softly. The boys struck us as old-fashioned and far too proper. William frowned and remarked, —Girls, why do you wear such short skirts? And Sally’s neckline is rather revealing. —Hmm… Boys, don’t look where you shouldn’t. Or you’ll go cross-eyed, — Sally and I teased, laughing. —Hard not to look. We are men, after all. What, do you smoke too? — William asked, persistent in his prim manner. —Of course we smoke. But only for show, — we joked. It was then Sally and I noticed something odd about the lads’ legs. William could barely walk, Leonard had a noticeable limp. —Are you being treated here? — I guessed. —Yes. I had a motorbike accident. Leonard misjudged a dive off the rocks, — William replied, reciting a well-worn story. — We’ll be discharged soon. Sally and I believed the boys without question. We had no clue William and Leonard were disabled from childhood, consigned to long-term care. To them, we were a taste of freedom. They lived and learned at a locked-away care home, each child inventing a story about some accident or fall or fight… William and Leonard turned out to be clever, witty, and mature beyond their years. Sally and I began visiting regularly—first, because we felt sorry for them and wanted to cheer them up; second, because we could learn so much from them. It became our weekly habit. William gifted me flowers picked from the nearest garden, Leonard always brought handmade origami, shyly pressing them into Sally’s hands. We’d all four squeeze onto the same bench: William at my side, Leonard turning his back, focussing entirely on Sally. My friend blushed, but she liked the attention from such a gentle soul. We chatted about everything and nothing. The summer slipped away in a haze of laughter and sunshine. Autumn arrived rainy and cold. School resumed. And, with Molly and I facing our final year, we simply forgot about William and Leonard. …Exams came and went, then the prom. Summer once more—full of hopes and new beginnings. Sally and I returned to the care home, thinking to visit our old friends. We settled on our usual bench, waiting for William and Leonard. William with his bunch of flowers, Leonard with his latest origami. We waited two hours, in vain. Suddenly a woman darted from the home and handed me William’s letter. I tore open the envelope: “Beloved Lily! You are my fragrant flower! My unattainable star! You might not have realised that I fell for you at first sight. Our meetings were my breath, my life. For six months, I stared out the window, hoping to see you. You forgot me. How it hurts! Our paths are different now. Still, I’m grateful to you for teaching me real love. I remember your velvet voice, your alluring smile, your gentle touch. Life without you, Lily, is unbearable! I’d give anything to see you one more time! I want to breathe, but I cannot… Leonard and I both turned eighteen. We’re being transferred this spring. We’re unlikely to meet again. My heart is in shreds! I hope I recover from loving you. Farewell, my dearest!” Signed, “Forever yours, William.” Inside the envelope I found a pressed flower. Guilt overwhelmed me. My heart ached that nothing could be changed. I remembered the saying: “We are responsible for those we have tamed.” I never imagined the depth of William’s feelings; I could never return them. I felt only friendly curiosity toward such an intelligent young man. Yes, I’d flirted a bit and teased him—but I had no idea my light-heartedness would fuel a fire that became a raging passion for William. …Many, many years have passed since then. William’s letter yellowed; the fly became dust. But I remember those innocent meetings, our carefree chats, and William’s infectious laughter. …And the story had a sequel: my friend Sally was moved by Leonard’s difficult fate. His parents rejected him for his “difference.” His leg was much shorter than the other. Sally finished teacher training and now works with disabled children. Leonard became her beloved husband. They have two grown sons. William, Leonard says, spent many years alone. When he was forty, his mother visited, saw her forsaken son, broke down in tears, rediscovered her love, and took him home to the countryside. What happened after has faded into mystery…