"What's she done now?"
"Nothing," was my quick response, but I could tell that he didn't believe me. However, Brad, my best friend since we were knee-high to a grasshopper, because he was such a nice person, let it go. And he then did his best to cheer me up. Two hours later, when I left the Red Lion, our favourite watering hole, I was in a much better mood. That was because of Brad's good company, but also because of the amount of beer that I'd consumed. I was a seasoned drinker, one who knows their limit, so even though I'd drunk a lot, I was still only tipsy.
It was a balmy night, so I decided to walk home rather than take a taxi. With a brisk pace I could be home in under forty minutes, but I was going to take my time. I was going to enjoy the journey.
And I was enjoying it. I even stopped to look up at the sky so that I could gaze at the stars. It felt good to be alive. Then I thought about her, and what she'd said. That dampened my good mood. Why did she have to be such a fucking bitch?
She'd arrived as I was about to leave. Unexpected, and as always, to see her Daughter rather than me. But because Lizzy was in the shower, she was forced to spend some time alone with me. I was OK with that, but it soon became apparent that she wasn't. And she was making no attempt to hide it.
"I'll make you a nice coffee."
From most people, that would have got me a thanks, or perhaps a smile. But from my Mother-in-law there was nothing. I took my time preparing it so that it would be just as she likes it. When I handed it to her, she took one look at it, and then she handed it straight back to me.
"I like it in a cup not a mug."
Since when? I've seen her drink from a mug on numerous occasions without complaining. However, I wasn't going to make an issue of it. I even apologised. If a cup was what she wanted, then she can have one. After getting one from the cupboard, I carefully poured the coffee into it. What was leftover I would drink.
"Enjoy."
But she didn't drink it, she again gave it back to me.
"It's chipped."
I examined it. It was, though on the side rather than on the rim. And it was minuscule. So small, that most people would never have noticed it, and even if they had, it wouldn't have stopped them drinking from the cup. She was just being difficult. That was something she was good at.
I was about to try again, when she said, "Don't bother. You're no good at making coffee. I'll wait until Lizzy comes down. She can make me one."
That wasn't just spiteful, it was untrue. However, I could be the better person, so I let it pass.
"I'm going to see Brad, do you mind if I leave you on your own until Lizzy has finished in the shower?"
Apparently, that wasn't worthy of an answer, so I just got a scowl, and a dismissive gesture from her hand that told me that I should go.
As I was leaving, she couldn't resist insulting me even more.
"Such a disappointment."
I didn't take her up on it, even though it was a nasty thing for her to say. She might be a bitch, but she was also a clever woman. If I was to question her about it, she'd say that she was referring to the coffee, but we both knew that it was aimed at me. According to her, I wasn't good enough for her precious Daughter, even though I was a successful businessman earning lots of money.
When I got home Lizzy was asleep. Snoring loudly. And if I didn't want to experience her displeasure then I needed to make sure that I didn't wake her while getting into bed. That was going to be difficult because she was a light sleeper. Thankfully though, I managed to do it.
In the morning, as we usually do, we had breakfast together. It's when we relax before we have to leave for work. The perfect start to the busy day that both of us will be having.
"Mother popping round last night was a nice surprise."
It might have been for her, but it definitely wasn't for me. However, I just said, "Yes it was." And while saying it I even managed a smile.
Regarding her Mother, Lizzy believes that I'm mistaken. That she is pleased that I married her Daughter. Pointing out that she is always nice to me. And she is, until we are alone. That's when I see her true feelings. Now, to avoid an argument, I keep it to myself. Hoping, that eventually our relationship will change. That she will start to like me. Though being honest with myself, that's just wishful thinking!
-
"I don't know what to do. Since she split up with Jeremy two months ago, it's as if her mission in life is to constantly humiliate me. And she is very good at it."
I wasn't just hoping to get some sympathy from Brad, I was expecting it, but what I got instead was criticism. And he wasn't holding back.
"It's your own fault, you need to grow a pair. Just tell it to her straight, that's she's a bitch, and you're not going to put up with it anymore. You're a man not a mouse."
"Thanks a lot. You're supposed to be my friend."
He was the best friend that any man can ever have. However, that didn't mean that he was always right. I understood why he'd said it, and if she wasn't my Mother-in-law then I'd take his advice. Venting my anger on Victoria would give me instant gratification, but that fleeting pleasure would come with a heavy price. She'd tell her Daughter about it, and then, until I'd profusely apologised several times for my outrageous behaviour, I'd be in the doghouse. Sleeping in the spare bedroom and no sex.
"What about killing her? I'll help you dispose of the body."
And he would, because he was that good a friend. I was now imagining all the different ways that I could kill her. And whilst doing it, I was smiling. Brad let me savour the moment before speaking again.
"Or you could win her over by being extra kind to her. But you're going to have to put a lot of effort into it, and it's not going to be a quick fix. It would be a marathon not a sprint. And there's no guarantee that it would work."
At last, a sensible suggestion. One that was worth considering. One that might actually be successful.
-
"Let me take your coat."
That surprised her, so much, that after handing it to me she forgot to scowl. What I got from her instead was almost a smile. But when I told her that Lizzy was out, and wouldn't be back for at least another hour, she wasn't pleased.
"You can make me a coffee."
Said without a please. It was a command rather than a request. I was happy to do it, but this time was she actually going to drink it? This time she did, and without complaining. So far so good. Time to start my charm offensive.
"I like your handbag, Is it new?"
At first, she was sceptical, not believing what I'd said, but then her expression changed. She smiled. A genuine one that was full of warmth.
"I bought it last week. I'm pleased that you like it."
"Another coffee, and what about a biscuit?"
"Just the coffee. I need to watch my weight."
"Don't be silly, you're in great shape."
That was over the top, and even though she must know that, hearing me say it had obviously pleased her. She was fifty six years old, well past her prime, but despite that, she was still an attractive woman. However, she was carrying a few extra pounds, especially around her waist. Then suddenly, as if a button had been pressed, her demeanour changed. The bitch was back. I had the good sense to stop my little game. I instinctively knew that If I was to continue flattering her, it wasn't going to please her, instead, it would just irritate her.
-
The next time I was with Brad I told him about it, and then I said, "What should I do now?"
