Mother-in-Law Knows Best

Claudia set her spoon down. "These days, anything can be faked. A pregnancy's no different. You can steal an ultrasound online or have someone else take the test for you. I need to see it for myself to believe it. Isn't that what's best for this family?"

Claudia's years as a writer had sharpened her mind to a deadly edge. Without hard evidence, she trusted no one. That was all it took. Hailey's bravado cracked, and she collapsed to her knees with an audible thud.

"Claudia, I'm sorry!" she cried. "I lied! I'm not pregnant." Tears streamed down her face as the confession poured out. "But I really love Joe! I just wanted to marry him, so I made it up."

Joe's face went blank. "You're not pregnant?"

Hailey nodded miserably. "Every time I see Vera call you, I get so jealous. You said if I got pregnant, you'd marry me. But we've been together for so long, and still—nothing, so..."

Her voice broke, and she hugged Joe, sobbing harder. "Joe, you promised you'd love me no matter what. That hasn't changed, right?"

Joe hesitated, but his face softened as he awkwardly patted her back. "Yes, of course. No matter what, I'll always love you. Don't cry. We'll keep trying, and soon, we'll have a baby."

Then he turned to Claudia. "Mom, Hailey and I have been thinking about starting our own business—an agency. If you could invest, we'd work hard to make it a success."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Even after all this, Joe still didn't get his mother.

Claudia placed her utensils down. "You already have a solid job at the company, Joe. Stick to it and focus on doing it well."

Her eyes flicked to Hailey, dripping with disdain. "And you, Hailey. You quit your job to play house, but you can't even handle basic chores. What makes you think you could run a company?"

Joe and Hailey exchanged awkward glances but didn't argue. They knew better.

***

While they sulked, I threw myself into learning how to write novels during Luca's nap times. My days were a blur of baby care, cooking, laundry, and cramming in writing practice—outlines, characters, opening scenes. Every free second, I was learning.

Claudia, meanwhile, focused her laser-sharp criticism squarely on Hailey.

"Hailey, did you just put sugar in the soup instead of salt? This is supposed to nourish Joe, not send him into a sugar coma! How can you be so careless with your own husband's meals?"

"When you do laundry, hang the clothes up immediately. Leaving them in the washer overnight makes them stink. Now you'll have to wash them again!"

"Hailey, I asked you to buy a birthday gift for Joe's aunt, and you came back with a Hermès bag? Are you out of your mind? This family doesn't print money. Spend where it's necessary and save where you can. Return it!"

"How many times have I told you to wash Luca's clothes separately from the adults'? And you tossed in socks and underwear? Even if you lack common sense, don't you at least have a brain?"

Hailey turned crimson, her humiliation growing with every lecture.

Watching it all unfold, I couldn't help but notice how Claudia's expectations for her daughters-in-law were sky-high. Maybe it was my humble background, my years of handling chores without complaint, that had kept me off her radar.

But even Joe wasn't cutting Hailey any slack. A few days later, I overheard him snapping, "You can't even tie a tie? I'm going to be late for work!"