Chapter 1
I never liked my mother-in-law. That confession, by itself, would hardly make me unusual. What happened between us, however, is something I have never been able to explain without making myself sound like a monster. I know we all tend to find them burdensome, invasive, overly opinionated and protective. I am no different in this regard and as a result, many will find my actions in this story not only deplorable, but inconsistent and contradictoray. Of that, I am very well aware.
My mother-in-law found herself wed to a relatively older man at the young age of only twenty-one. A year later, she gave birth to her only child, a girl who they named Erica. A girl who would eventually become my wife. Their marriage would (unsurprisingly) not last very long, and when Erica was only three, they divorced. She was subsequently raised by her mother, with her father out of the picture. This series of events would shape their relationship and eventually our own.
When we first met, Erica’s mother was in her early forties. She is a tall and slim woman, with hard features and sleek blonde hair. Hair which, no doubt, has been tampered to mask the inevitable grey that creeps in with age (though I like to think it is not much different to how it looked in her prime). She is a woman who enjoys the sun, almost a dangerous amount in fact. In the Summer months, she would sunbathe most afternoons and acquire a fantastic tan that accentuated her beauty. Of this she was very proud, and aware.
When my relationship with Erica began, it did not take long for me to understand the dynamics of the relationship between her and her mother. They are two who share almost every detail of their lives between them. A bond similar to that of childhood friends who never drifted apart.I had never known a relationship like theirs. My own family had been different, quieter, more distant. While difficult, I did learn to live with it, as you learn to live with every negative and positive a relationship presents you with. Things would ultimately change, however, when Erica and I decided to get married four years into our relationship.
I must tell you now, before this story continues, why I began to hate Erica’s mother. This was not a typical anger or frustration the average person tends to have towards their mother-in-law. It was resentment. I detested the woman. My demeanor would change any time she entered the room. I would feel as one feels when they are being held against their will, and would rather be anywhere else than in her presence, let alone in conversation.
She often seemed like a walking contradiction. A woman who most would consider a recluse. She had very little friends, if any at all, and would spend most of her days watching cooking shows or telanovellas which even the lowest of Phillistines would perhaps consider unbearable. She seemed to somehow be full of empathy and lack it tremendously at the same time. A woman with an obstinate unwillingness to change or alter her daily habits or patterns. Yet, she would also move heaven and earth to make her daughter happy. To give her want she wanted. She loved her family, and was always ready to lend a helping hand. Somehow, things did not sit right with me. I always had a suspicion that there was malice within her. An ability and genuine want to cause disruption and chaos in her daughter’s life, if circumstances lead Erica away from her.
