When my daughter Emma told me that her husband’s parents were in trouble – they literally had nowhere to live – I immediately said: “Let them come to us.” It was only temporary, after all – until they found jobs and saved up for their own place. Even if it was just a small house in our village, as long as it was theirs.
The in-laws arrived without delay. My son-in-law’s mother, Margaret, was crying on the phone, thanking me, swearing she would never forget our kindness and would definitely repay our hospitality.
Ordinary words. I would have said the same thing in her situation. But I didn’t need their gratitude – we weren’t strangers, after all. They had raised a wonderful man for my Emma, and she was happy with him.
But a month passed, then another, and I noticed something was off. My daughter spoke to me differently, as if she was hiding something. Her voice was tense, her smile forced.
I started catching her in small, seemingly insignificant inconsistencies. I called to ask how she was doing – she responded too cheerfully.
— “Mom, everything is great, don’t worry!”
But I was her mother, and I could feel that something was wrong.
I couldn’t wait any longer – I arrived unannounced.
***
The house was spotless – clean, cozy, everything just as I had kept it for years. But my daughter… She was exhausted, her eyes had lost their sparkle, her smile was fake.
That evening, I understood what was happening.
We sat at the table, I with her father-in-law, Richard, while Emma and her mother-in-law, Margaret, set the table. And then he threw out:
— “Did you see how dirty the glasses are? Wash them properly!”
— “Forgot the salt again? Now you’ll be running around while everyone is already seated?”
— “The potatoes are oversalted! You cooked them, right? So how am I supposed to eat?!”
I pressed my lips together. My daughter was neat, hardworking, an excellent homemaker. She had been used to order since childhood. She worked, earned her own money. And this man… was ordering her around.
Margaret stayed silent. My son-in-law, David, also said nothing.
But Richard didn’t stop.
— “In our family, money isn’t wasted,” he continued. “But your daughter? She spends like crazy! First she needs boots, then sneakers, then some other shoes! I almost ran away at the market!”
— “And those cakes she bakes – for what? Just to look nice? And the house? A mess! What kind of woman spends all her time in the kitchen?”
I looked at David. He remained silent.
I lifted my head.
— “Spending too much?” – I said louder. – “Father-in-law, have you forgotten something? YOU are living in OUR house, fully provided for! And you dare to lecture me about frugality? You lost your own home, and now you want to teach us how to live?!”
Richard jumped up! And David right after him. Funny, I thought, was he deaf before? But no – when it came to his father, he could hear just fine!
I won’t describe the scene – it’s unpleasant to remember. But that very day, three people left my house.
— “I only told the truth, and you immediately threw in my face that we lived here! That’s low!” – Richard fumed.
Whether it was low or not – that’s not for me to judge.
A month passed.
Emma became herself again – lively, confident, her eyes shining once more. David tried to return.
But I told him:
— “There’s no place for you in our home anymore.”
Since he and his parents had been living off my and Emma’s money, he had no alternative to offer. He slammed the door and declared:
— “You took your daughter’s happiness away.”
Maybe Emma is upset with me…
But I believe that one should stay far away from such “happiness.”
Am I wrong?
