My Mother-in-law, My Best Friend

“Don’t you dare speak about my mother that way!” Oliver slammed his fist on the kitchen table, rattling the teacups. “She’s done nothing but put herself out for us!”

“Put herself out?” Emily spun around from the cooker, waving her ladle. “Your mum took our spare keys again and turned up without warning! I was in my dressing gown, hair undone! And she starts lecturing me about tidy habits!”

“What’s got into you? You used to adore Helen Watson…”

“I was a naive fool back then!” Emily’s voice trembled with anger. “I thought I’d been blessed with the perfect mother-in-law. Turns out she’s been watching my every move!”

Helen Watson stood frozen in the doorway, overhearing. She clutched a bag of pastries she’d baked that morning to cheer them up. Her heart clenched painfully. Could she truly be unwanted? Did Emily despise her?

“Mum?” Oliver turned, spotting her. “How long have you been there?”

“I… brought steak and kidney pies.” Helen glanced uncertainly between her son and daughter-in-law. “Your favourite.”

Emily turned stiffly back to the cooker. Heavy, awkward silence filled the kitchen.

“Mum, come sit,” Oliver pulled out a chair. “We’ll have tea.”

“No, I’d best… get back,” Helen murmured, setting the bag down. “Clearly I’ve picked a bad moment.”

She hurried towards the front door, forcing back tears. Behind her, Oliver and Emily’s muffled voices argued, but she couldn’t bear to make out the words.

At home, Helen sat by the window with cold tea. How had it come to this? When Oliver first brought Emily home, Helen instantly warmed to the sweet, shy girl with kind eyes. Emily seemed genuine then, calling her “Mum,” asking for household advice.

But now? Had she meddled? Visited too often? But they lived just across the estate – barely any distance. And she longed to see her grandson Danny.

Emily phoned that evening. “Helen, could I pop round? Alone?”

“Of course, love.”

Emily arrived tear-streaked and flushed, sitting opposite her mother-in-law, fists clenched. “I want to apologise… for this morning. With Oliver… I shouldn’t have.”

“Emily, what’s happened?” Helen leaned forward. “What’s upset you so?”

“Everything piled up,” Emily wiped her eyes. “Work cuts loom – I might lose my job. Danny’s been poorly for three weeks; doctors won’t say why. Oliver… he doesn’t notice how frayed my nerves are. Work, home, the baby… Then you drop by unexpectedly, and I’m a mess…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Helen shifted closer, embracing Emily. “Why fret about tidiness? I’m not some stranger – I’m family.”

“That’s… that’s precisely it,” Emily sniffled. “You manage everything perfectly. Cooking, tidying… I feel useless beside you.”

Helen stared, astonished. “Emily Watson, nonsense! You’re a wonderful wife and mother! And the house? Who cares when your job’s shaky and Danny’s unwell?”

“Truly not judging me?”

“Goodness, no. I only wanted to help. Baking pies so you’d have one less chore. Watching Danny while you handled things. Instead, I intruded.”

“You didn’t,” Emily whispered. “I’m a fool. Stressed and took it out on you.”

Helen rose. “Let’s have proper tea and cake. Tell me about work. Maybe we can sort this.”

They talked till midnight. Emily shared work struggles, Danny worries, exhaustion. Helen listened, suggested solutions. “I know someone in council education. If redundancy happens, she might help.”

“Really?” Emily brightened.

“Certainly. I’ll ring Patricia tomorrow about vacancies.”

When Emily left, their hug felt different. Genuine. Warm. Family.

“Helen, might Danny and I visit tomorrow? I’ve an interview… awkward with him.”

“Why even ask? Bring him. We’ll have a lovely time.”

Oliver blinked when his wife returned cheerful. “Where were you?”

“At your mum’s.” Emily took his hand. “Oliver, forgive my outburst this morning. I was wrong.”

He shrugged. “Water under the bridge.”

“No, it isn’t. Your mum’s absolute gold. Stress made me snap.”

Helen rang her friend Patricia, arranging an appointment. Within a week, Emily had a job offer from a local school.

“The salary’s better than my old one!” Emily told Helen excitedly. “Close commute, flexible hours.”

“See? All worked out,” Helen smiled. “No need for those worries.”

Something shifted between them. Emily visited Helen not just when needed but to chat. Helen stopped dropping in unannounced, phoning instead.

“Emily, free this evening? Thought I’d read Danny his new book.”

“Perfect – I’ve got a Victoria sponge baking.”

Once, Emily arrived upset. “Helen, may I get your advice?”

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Another row with Oliver. Out with mates till all hours while I’m stuck home with Danny. I said family should come first. He snapped that he works like a dog and deserves downtime.”

Helen poured tea thoughtfully. “Men need explaining to, not scolding. Oliver’s good-hearted but sometimes misses when you need support.”

“How can I not scold him arriving at 2am?”

“Try a different tack. Say you miss him. Ask for time together – not as criticism, but a request.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“Try. If not, I’ll have words,” Helen winked.

Days later, Emily rushed in beaming. “It worked! Told him I missed him and wanted family weekends. He agreed instantly!”

“Told you,” Helen nodded. “Presentation matters.”

Emily confided in Helen about work troubles, Danny, womanly concerns. Helen always listened, offered practical advice, never judged.

When Danny struggled at school, Helen proposed: “Why not let me tutor him after school? Plenty of time, and I taught decades.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Mind? My grandson! Besides, I’ll enjoy it.”

Danny loved visiting Gran. She explained things simply, stayed patient, praised effort.

“Mum, how’ve Danny’s marks jumped?” Oliver asked.

“Your mother tutors him,” Emily said. “She’s a born teacher.”

“Who knew Mum was so gifted?”

Emily just smiled. She’d long realised Helen wasn’t just a gifted teacher but a wise woman who understood people.

When flu struck Emily down, Oliver couldn’t get leave.

“No worries,” Helen insisted. “Send Danny to me. I’ll nurse you.”

Three days Helen cared for Emily like a daughter – homemade soups, hot baths. No complaints, no excuses.

“Helen, how can I thank you?” Emily asked after recovery.

“What nonsense. We’re family.”

Emily knew she meant it – Helen saw them not as burdens but kin.

Soon, Emily proved she saw Helen as family too. Helen’s sciatica flared – bedridden, every movement agony.

“Oliver, your mum’s ignoring calls,” Emily insisted. “Let’s check.”

They found her pale and exhausted in bed.

“Why didn’t you phone?” Emily fussed over her.

“Didn’t want trouble.”

“Absolute rubbish,” Emily fluffed pillows. “Oliver, ring the GP tomorrow. I’ll take leave.”

“You can’t skip work…”

“Work waits. You’re suffering.”

For two weeks Emily visited daily – cooking, cleaning, massages. Helen protested weakly but Emily persisted. “You nursed me.”

After Helen recovered, their bond deepened. Truer closeness, deeper trust.

“You know what, Emily?” Helen confessed. “I always dreamed of a daughter. Now I’ve got one.”

Tears pricked Emily’s eyes. “I always envied friends with good mothers. Mine died when I was twenty. You became mine.”

Now they chat daily, meet for coffees and theatre trips, stroll with Danny.

“I
Evelyn Williams paused by the kitchen door, the warmth from the bag of freshly baked pasties in her hands a stark contrast to the cold shock settling in her chest. Had she truly become an intrusion? What had happened to the bond they’d shared?
“Oliver?” Seeing his mother in the doorway, he stopped mid-sentence. “How long have you been standing there?”
“I… just brought your favourite Cornish pasties,” Evelyn stammered, looking between her son and her daughter-in-law, Lisa Fairchild, who turned abruptly back to the hob, her shoulders rigid. An awkward silence descended.
“Come on, Mum, have some tea,” Oliver offered, pulling out a chair.
“No, I… I think I’ll just head home,” Evelyn murmured, placing the bag on the table. “Bad timing.” She hurried out, not wanting them to see how much it hurt, their muffled voices following her down the path.
Back in her own living room overlooking the village green, Evelyn sipped cold tea. Where had things gone wrong? When Oliver first introduced Lisa, she’d adored her – such a bright, kind young woman. Lisa had seemed so genuine back then, calling her ‘Mum’, asking advice.
But now? Was she meddling? Did she visit their cottage across the green too often? She only wanted to see her grandson, Daniel.
The phone rang later. Lisa. “Evelyn, can I come round? Just for a chat?”
“Of course, dear. Come anytime.”
Lisa arrived with puffy, red eyes. She sat opposite her mother-in-law, fists clenched in her lap. “I needed to apologise,” she began haltingly. “For this morning… In front of Oliver… It was uncalled for.”
“Lisa, what’s really the matter?” Evelyn leaned forward, concerned.
“It’s everything,” Lisa wiped her eyes, smudging her mascara. “Possible redundancies at the office, I don’t know if I’ll have a job next month. Daniel’s been poorly for three weeks and the doctors aren’t sure. Oliver… he doesn’t see how wound up I am. Work, home, the baby… Then you pop round unexpectedly and I’m not dressed, haven’t tidied…”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Evelyn moved next to her, putting an arm around her. “Goodness, don’t be silly about a bit of mess! I’m family, not some visiting inspector.”
“That’s exactly it,” Lisa sniffed. “You run such a perfect house, everything immaculate, your cooking’s brilliant. I feel useless next to you.”
Evelyn stared at her incredulously. “Lisa, that’s nonsense! You’re a wonderful wife and wonderful mother. And the house? That’s the last thing anyone should worry about when a child’s ill and work’s in the balance.”
“Really? You don’t think badly of me?” Lisa looked up, hope dawning through her tears.
“Not at all, love. I went through it too raising Oliver. Remember him getting chickenpox? Fever through the roof, I didn’t sleep for a week. My own mother-in-law came round, saw unwashed dishes, and had a go at me. Still smarts.”
Lisa managed a weak smile for the first time in weeks. “I thought you were judging me. Thinking she’s made a right mess of things, doesn’t feed her husband properly…”
“Oh, my dear girl,” Evelyn shook her head sadly. “I only wanted to help. Baking pasties so you didn’t have to cook. Looking after Daniel if you needed a break. Seems I just caused bother instead.”
“You don’t,” Lisa said quietly. “I was just an idiot. Stressed and took it out on you.”
“You know what?” Evelyn stood decisively. “Proper tea. With Victoria sponge. And you can tell me all about work. We’ll sort it.”
They talked deep into the night. Lisa poured out her fears about redundancy, her worries over Daniel’s health, the sheer exhaustion. Evelyn listened, nodded, and offered support. “I know someone actually,” she said thoughtfully. “Tamara Phillips, works in Local Education. Might be able to give some pointers if the worst happens.”
” *Really*?” Lisa sat up straighter.
“Certainly. I’ll ring Tamara tomorrow, see what’s about.”
When Lisa finally left hours later, their hug was different. Warm, genuine, familial.
“Evelyn,” Lisa paused at the door. “Could I bring Daniel round tomorrow? I’ve an interview, and it’s awkward with him…”
“Ask? Of course! Bring him. We’ll have a lovely time.”
Oliver was surprised to find his wife looking cheerful. “Where’ve you been?” he asked, eyes on the telly.
“At your mum’s,” Lisa sat beside him, taking his hand. “Ollie, I’m really sorry about this morning. I was completely in the wrong.”
“Suppose it happens,” he shrugged.
“No, it doesn’t just ‘happen’. Your mum is solid gold. I was stressed and snapped.”
True to her word, Evelyn rang her friend, who arranged an interview. A week later, Lisa got an offer from the village primary school. “Better hours, less commute, *and* better pay!” she exclaimed to Evelyn joyfully. “Who’d have thought?”
“There you go, see?” Evelyn smiled warmly. “No need for all that worry.”
Something shifted after that. Lisa started dropping by Evelyn’s not just out of necessity, but for chats. Evelyn stopped popping over unannounced, instead calling first. “Lisa darling, would it be alright if I come by later? Got a new storybook for Daniel.”
“Lovely. I’ve just put a Bakewell tart in, we’ll have tea.”
One day, Lisa arrived looking upset. “Evelyn, can I ask your advice?”
“Bad news, love?”
“Fell out with Oliver again. Out with his mates ’til all hours, while I’m stuck here with Daniel. Told him family should come first. He reckons he’s working like a Trojan and deserves a break.”
Evelyn poured tea thoughtfully. “You know, Lisa love, men need things spelled out, not scolded. Oliver’s a good man, deep down, but he doesn’t always grasp that his wife needs a lifeline too.”
“How am I supposed *not* scold when he rolls in at two AM?”
“Try a different tack. Tell him you’ve missed him, that you want some time together – just you. Make it a request, not a complaint.”
“You reckon that might work?”
“Give it a try. If not, I’ll have a quiet word,” Evelyn winked.
A few days later, Lisa arrived beaming. “It worked! Just like you said! Told him I missed him and wanted us to spend more time together. He didn’t argue once, said he’d keep weekends free for family outings.”
“See?” Evelyn nodded, pleased. “Presentation is half the battle.”
Gradually, Lisa confided in Evelyn about everything – work troubles, worries over Daniel, personal matters. Evelyn always listened, offered practical wisdom, and crucially, never judged.
When Daniel struggled starting Year One, it was Evelyn who found the solution. “How about I help him with his learning after school? Retired teacher, plenty of time, and I know the ropes.”
“Evelyn, that’s too much…”
“Rubbish! He’s’
And so the next Saturday, Evelyn took Daniel to the football pitch while Lisa and Oliver finally managed that long-overdue lunch date at the local pub, both silently acknowledging that sometimes it takes a village – or at least one understanding mother-in-law – to raise a family.

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My Mother-in-law, My Best Friend