My Mother-in-Law, My Best Friend

My mother-in-law became my dearest confidante.
‘How dare you speak of my mother so!’ Oliver slammed his fist upon the table, making the teacups rattle. ‘She’s always done her utmost for us!’
‘Her utmost?’ Margaret turned from the cooker, waving a ladle. ‘Your mother took the keys again and arrived unannounced! I was in my dressing gown, hair unbrushed! And she lectured me on household tidiness!’
‘What’s come over you? You used to adore Eleanor…’
‘That was when I was a naive fool!’ Margaret’s voice shook with anger. ‘I thought I’d won the mother-in-law lottery! Turns out she’s just monitoring my every move!’
Eleanor Wentworth stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, hearing every word. In her hands was a bag of pastries she’d baked that morning, hoping to cheer them. Her heart tightened with pain. Was she truly a bother? Did Margaret genuinely despise her?
‘Mum?’ Oliver spun round, seeing her. ‘How long have you been there?’
‘I…’ Eleanor looked helplessly from her daughter-in-law to her son. ‘I brought some pastries. Cheese and onion, your favourites.’
Margaret turned back to the cooker, shoulders rigid. An uncomfortable, heavy silence fell.
‘Mum, come in,’ Oliver pulled out a chair. ‘We’ll have tea.’
‘No, I’d best… head home,’ Eleanor murmured quietly, setting the bag down. ‘I can see my timing’s poor.’
She turned and walked quickly to the door, trying to hide her hurt. Behind her, Oliver and Margaret’s muffled voices rose, but she refused to hear the words.
At home, Eleanor sat by the window with cold tea. How had it come to this? When Oliver first introduced Margaret, she’d instantly warmed to the girl. So sweet, demure, with kind eyes. Margaret seemed sincere then, calling her ‘Mum’, asking advice on housekeeping.
And now? Was she truly intruding? Did she visit too often? But they lived only next door! And she longed to see little Daniel.
The telephone rang that evening. Margaret.
‘Eleanor, may I come over? Alone?’
‘Of course, dear, do.’
Margaret arrived, flushed and tearful. She sat opposite Eleanor, hands clenched.
‘I wanted to apologise,’ she said haltingly. ‘For this morning… In front of Oliver… I shouldn’t have spoken like that.’
‘Margaret, my dear, what truly troubles you?’ Eleanor leaned forward. ‘What’s got you so upset?’
‘It’s everything piling up,’ Margaret wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Talk of redundancies at work, I don’t know if I’ll stay. Daniel’s been poorly for weeks, the doctors aren’t sure. And Oliver… he doesn’t see how frayed my nerves are. Work, home, the child… Then you pop in, I’m unprepared, the place is a mess…’
‘Oh, my dear,’ Eleanor moved closer, putting an arm around Margaret’s shoulders. ‘Fretting over a bit of dust? I’m not some stranger, I’m family.’
‘That’s just it,’ Margaret sniffled. ‘You’re the perfect homemaker – everything spotless, cooking wonderful. Beside you, I feel utterly inadequate.’
Eleanor looked at her daughter-in-law, surprised.
‘Margaret, don’t be absurd! Inadequate? You’re a wonderful wife and mother. As for the house… Dust matters little when a child is poorly and work is precarious.’
‘You truly don’t mind?’ Margaret lifted tear-filled eyes.
‘Goodness, no. I trod that very path myself, raising Oliver. I recall when he had chickenpox, fever raging, I didn’t sleep for a week. My own mother-in-law visited, saw unwashed dishes, and scolded me. It stings still.’
Margaret smiled faintly for the first time in ages.
‘I thought you criticised me. Silently judging, “Look how she lives, home neglected, doesn’t feed her husband properly…”’
‘Gracious,’ Eleanor shook her head. ‘I only ever meant to help. Baking pastries so you needn’t cook. Sitting with Daniel while you run errands. Seems I just caused annoyance.’
‘You didn’t,’ Margaret said softly. ‘I’m the fool. All wound up and I snapped at you.’
‘Listen,’ Eleanor stood, heading to the kitchen. ‘Let’s have proper tea, with cake. Tell me about your work worries. Perhaps we can devise something.’
They sat talking until midnight. Margaret spoke of work stresses, her fears for Daniel, her exhaustion from the endless rush. Eleanor listened, nodded, offered quiet observations.
‘You know, I have an acquaintance in the education department,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps she might suggest something, if the redundancy happens.’
‘Really?’ Margaret brightened.
‘Certainly. I’ll ring Dorothy Smith tomorrow, see what positions might be open.’
When Margaret left, their embrace was different. Not formal, but warm, truly familial.
‘Eleanor, might Daniel and I come by tomorrow? I have an interview, and bringing him along would be awkward.’
‘Why do you even ask? Bring him, of course. The lad and I shall have a grand time.’
Oliver was surprised when his wife returned home cheerful.
‘Where were you?’ he asked, eyes not leaving the television.
‘At your mother’s,’ Margaret sat beside him, taking his hand. ‘Oliver, forgive me for this morning. I was wrong.’
‘Oh, don’t fuss,’ he shrugged. ‘These things happen.’
‘No, it’s not alright. Your mother’s one in a million. I was under pressure and took it out on her.’
Next day, Eleanor did call her friend, who agreed to see Margaret. Within a week, she’d been offered a position at a nearby school.
‘Can you believe it?’ Margaret told Eleanor joyfully. ‘The salary is even better than before! Nearer home, better hours too.’
Well, there you are,’ Eleanor smiled. ‘And you were so worried.’
Something shifted between them after that. Margaret began visiting Eleanor not just out of need, but to talk. Eleanor stopped appearing unannounced, calling ahead instead.
‘Margaret dear, is it inconvenient if I pop round this evening? I’d like to read Daniel his new book.’
‘Please do. I’ve just baked a cake; we’ll have tea together.’
Once, Margaret arrived looking troubled.
‘Eleanor, might I ask your advice?’
‘What’s the matter, dear?’
‘Oliver and I had a disagreement. He was off with his mates again until all hours, while I was home with Daniel. I said family should come first. He retorted he’d been working like a horse and deserved some leisure.’
Eleanor poured tea, pondering.
‘Men can be like that, Margaret. Less reproach, more explanation helps. Oliver’s a good man, but sometimes doesn’t grasp that his wife needs support too.’
‘But how not to reproach him, when he rolls in at two in the morning?’
‘Try another way. Say you miss him, that you’d love some time together. Frame it as a wish, not an accusation.’
‘Do you think that will work?’
‘Try it. And if not, I’ll have a word with him,’ Eleanor winked.
A few days later, Margaret arrived beaming.
‘It worked! I told him I missed him, longed to spend more time together. He agreed without argument! Weekends are family days now.’
‘There you go,’ Eleanor nodded approvingly. ‘Presentation is everything.’
Gradually, Margaret shared everything with Eleanor: work troubles, concerns about the boy, womanly confidences. Her mother-in-law always listened, offered sound advice, and crucially – never judged.
When Daniel started school and struggled, it was Eleanor who proposed a solution.
‘How about I help him with his lessons after school?
Margaret gratefully accepted, and as Daniel blossomed with newfound confidence, the quiet afternoons spent at Eleanor’s hearth became the enduring bedrock upon which their entire family’s contentment rested.