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My Mother-in-Law Decided to Redesign My Kitchen in Her Style While I Was at Work

My motherinlaw decided to redo the kitchen to suit her taste while I was at work. James, Im begging you

Marrying a Disabled Man: A Story Thank you all for your support—your likes, heartfelt comments, and generous donations from me and my five beloved cats. Please share your favourite stories on social media—it truly means a lot to the author! Lucy came home late from the hospital, where she worked as a nurse on the trauma ward. She took a long shower, then appeared in the kitchen wearing her dressing gown. “There are meatballs and pasta in the frying pan,” her mother offered, peering into her face and trying to gauge her mood. “Tired, Lucy? What’s wrong, love?” “I’m not eating—not that anyone would look at me anyway, but if I stuff my face, no one definitely will,” Lucy replied gloomily, pouring herself some tea. “What are you talking about?” her mother fussed, “There’s nothing wrong with you! You’ve a clever look in your eyes, your nose and your lips are just right—don’t go criticising yourself, Lucy!” “It’s just that all my friends have been married for ages and I’m still single! The only men who fancy me are total duds. The ones I like don’t even glance my way. What’s wrong with me, Mum?” Lucy asked, frowning, waiting for an answer. “You just haven’t met your soulmate yet, your time will come,” her mother tried to reassure her, but Lucy got even more wound up. “Oh, my ‘clever eyes’ just means they’re beady!” Lucy retorted. “My lips are thin, and look at the state of my nose! If I had money, I’d get plastic surgery, but we’re skint! So I’ve decided I’ll marry someone disabled—there are lads at the hospital whose girlfriends dumped them after accidents. What else am I to do? I’m thirty-three! I can’t wait forever!” “Oh Lucy, don’t say that…” her mum blurted, then let slip, “Your dad had trouble with his legs, I’d hoped at least your husband could help out on the allotment. It really helps us, you know? How are we supposed to cope otherwise?” She hurried on apologetically, “Don’t get me wrong, Lucy, but not everyone lives in luxury, and why would you want a disabled husband? Look, that neighbour, Alex—he’s a good lad, always had his eye on you. Strong fellow, your children would be healthy, and—” “Mum, stop. Your Alex can’t hold down a job, likes a drink, and what would we even talk about?” Lucy protested. “What do you need to talk about?” her mum insisted. “I’ll ask him to go dig the veg patch, then we’ll have lunch. Or send him to the shops. He’s a good enough lad, he tries—maybe it could work?” she suggested hopefully. Lucy just pushed away her tea and got up. “I’m going to bed, Mum. You really don’t get it. I thought at least you saw me as a person, but you’re just like everyone else—you think I’m a lost cause …” “Lucy, darling, don’t say that—” her mother followed, but Lucy just waved her hand. “That’s enough, Mum.” She closed the door in her mother’s face. Later, Lucy lay awake, thinking of the young man who’d recently arrived at the ward—he’d lost his leg at the ankle. A collapsing building had pinned his leg with a concrete slab. The house was already marked for demolition, but for some reason he’d gone inside. They’d rescued him too late to save the limb. No one had come to visit him, though he was young—not even thirty. At first, right after surgery, he’d looked at Lucy, holding her hand and searching her eyes pleadingly. Later, realising the full extent of his loss, he’d simply stare up at the ceiling, withdrawn. For some reason, Lucy felt especially sorry for him, maybe because he had no visitors at all. “Do you think I’ll ever walk again?” he’d asked her the other day, not looking her way. “Of course you will,” Lucy replied resolutely, “You’re young, you’ll recover.” “Everyone says that. Try living with no leg yourself—then say whether life’s worth living or not,” he snapped, turning his back to her as if she were to blame. “Why did you go in there anyway?” Lucy retorted, now annoyed herself. “It’s your own fault.” “Thought I saw something,” the man muttered, and from then on, when Lucy came into the ward, he’d turn to the wall. Lucy watched him: his eyes were light-coloured, cold as ice. Yet he was a handsome man—it was such a shame. “Pitying me, are you?” he caught her gaze one day, “I can see it—you’re feeling sorry for me. That’s all I’m good for now, isn’t it? Men like me, we aren’t loved.” “And women like me aren’t loved either—even with arms and legs—all because something about me is ‘off’. No one even feels sorry for me. Maybe I’d be better off like you—at least someone would pity me then,” Lucy snapped and, to her own surprise, felt tears sting her eyes. But then, Michael suddenly smiled at her for the first time, “You’re daft, you know that?” he said. “You think you’re not pretty? Are you mad? I look at you and honestly, any man you choose, I’ll just envy him. Do you believe me?” Lucy stared at him, and—strangely—she did believe him. She blurted out what had been pricking her tongue for days: “Well, if I choose you, will you marry me?” He stayed silent. “See, you’re lying, I knew it!” Lucy said, her lips trembling as she got up and headed for the door. But Michael propped himself up on his elbows as best he could, sitting up as if he might chase after her—then remembered he couldn’t, and called after her: “Marry me, Lucy! I swear, soon nobody will even notice I’ve got a bad leg. I’ll recover—don’t leave, Lucy!” Lucy stopped in the corridor, on the verge of tears, but now she sensed, deep down—he was The One. It no longer mattered that her nose was too big, her eyes too small, or that something had happened to his leg. They’d found each other—that was all. Her time had come, just as her mother had said… Michael threw himself into rehab with new passion. Now, he had a goal—he wanted to marry the wonderful girl he loved, and he needed to get back on his feet for both their sakes. He wanted Lucy to stop feeling sad or unwanted. He needed her—needed her so much there was no one else he wanted but her. “You’ve finally fallen in love, haven’t you, love?” her mother teased her gently one day. “Look at you—positively glowing! And you said you weren’t pretty.” Lucy just floated on air. Her biggest hope now was that Michael would walk again and get used to his new prosthetic. They went on ever longer walks—first around the hospital grounds, then through the twinkling pre-Christmas streets sparkling under snowy lights … “The old house, where I got trapped—that’s it, all levelled now,” Michael showed her once. “And why did you go in there anyway? What did you see? You never told me…” Lucy remembered. “You’ll laugh, but I saw a stray puppy—thin, all black with white patches. I thought he’d freeze, so I wanted to bring him home—didn’t want to be lonely anymore,” he told her. “Oh, look—there’s a skinny dog over there, eyeing us warily.” “Looks like him! That’s definitely the one!” Michael grinned, and the dog started following them at a distance—all the way home. “Lucky Lucy, found herself a handsome husband, younger than her, with his own flat and no mother-in-law!” her friends teased at the wedding. Lucy’s mum shed a tear of joy when Michael started calling her “Mum”. He’d been raised in care; no family at all. But he was such a kind, good soul—and most importantly—they loved each other. That’s all that mattered. And as for the allotment veggies—who really cares? Besides, Michael’s the practical type, and everything he tries, he manages! These days, Lucy, Michael, and the dog—Kuzma (now renamed Tommy)—all live together. But soon there’ll be four: Lucy and Michael are expecting a little girl. Never despair, or you might miss the happiness fate has in store for you. After all, life’s greatest beauty lies in its unpredictability…

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