I haven’t always gotten along with my in-laws. There was a
period of time right before we got married where James had to convince me not
to kill his mother; but after I got custody of the kids, the two of us developed
a friendly if not staggered relationship, only speaking when absolutely necessary,
but always in an amiable manner.
I didn’t want to kill her because she was rude, mind you. I
know not every mother is like mine – bless her heart, if she has one today –
but I hated her because she was so kind. She was deceptively kind. I spent the
first two months of my relationship with James absolutely paranoid that she was
being friendly with me just so she could gain my trust and then shank me in an
alley.
Yes, I see the irony in my fear, I’m still not wrong.
I brought my fears to James and he laughed at me before
reminding me that not everyone has an ulterior motive. Some people are just
nice. During the entire wedding process, she remained an absolute peach, so
excited that her son was happy. I remember going with her to pick out my
wedding dress – because, god-forbid I take my mother, I’d end up killing the
attendant before I picked out a dress.
As it was, I ended up slashing the poor girl’s throat later
that day to vent my frustration.
So there I was, with James’ mother, face lit up like a Christmas
tree because every dress was “oh my goodness, so beautiful”, and I blew up at
her. I yelled at her for being so fucking nice, and asked her how she managed
to raise her son when he couldn’t even stand up for herself. She stopped
smiling. I swear that was the first time she had stopped smiling since I met
her. And she just walked out the door.
I went to James that night, expecting to get an earful about
respecting his mother, only to discover that she hadn’t said a word to him. She
didn’t whine or complain, she kept her son safe.
I called her the next day and we met for coffee so I could
apologize. When I got there, she was already sitting there with a bouquet of
flowers. I lost it. I just remember being so angry that she had somehow gained
the upper hand in our relationship that I acted like a child. I threw the
flowers out and walked away.
Two weeks later – and after one
very long lecture from my finance – I worked up the courage to apologize and
have a frank discussion about my stress over the wedding. After that, things
were strained to say the least but we leveled out into a tolerable companionship.
It wasn’t until the week after I got the kids that we actually developed a sort
of kinship.
Sandra was absolutely intolerable
after she lost her mother. She wouldn’t talk to me, or eat anything I put in
front of her. She skipped school more often than she went during that first
month. Jason, following his sister’s lead as always, learned a lot of new swear
words in a very short amount of time and used any possible excuse to use them
on James and I. When he knew what he meant, his words stung.
On a really bad day, for whatever
reason, I found myself calling my mother-in-law – in tears – asking her to come
over. James was at work and the kids had both left so it was just me alone with
a bottle of wine. I just vented to her about all the problems I’d been having,
raising two preteen children, and she listened. She just listened and poured
wine while I cried into my glass. And then she smiled and said “I know.” After
that night we definitely established some common ground and that was the
beginning of our friendly working relationship.
Last week, she called me and told
me to meet her for coffee so last Wednesday I showed up after an exhausting day
at work and there she was, smiling as usual. She’s definitely aged well, which
I’m glad to know. Maybe James will get that gene and we’ll be that 70-year old
couple who could pass for 40.
I’m determined to be immortal – or
at least look like it – so hopefully we can not-grow old together.
We got our overly-expensive coffee
and sat down at a table in the corner, and then I listened.
She told me that she didn’t want
to know what was going on between the two of us – “your problems are your own”,
she said – but she told me to have patience. James is stubborn and emotional
but he loves me and whatever happens, I make him happy. But simultaneously, I
have to be attentive. We both did something wrong, whatever it was, and we need
to find a solution together.
It’s not something new to me. I’ve
heard all of this before. But coming from her, it seemed to strike a chord.
After I left her, I called James
and he agreed to stop by the house the next night.
He’d stopped shaving; that was the
first thing that came to mind when I opened the door. He was all scraggly and muscle-y
and
We had sex.
It was really good.
I have missed having sex with my
husband.
But that also means we didn’t
talk. In face we haven’t spoken since that night. I’m nervous. I think I
screwed up. I hate asking the internet for marriage advice but:
Readers, what do I do?
As always,
Stay Safe
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