Lila intends to conceal Carol’s birthday gift from Bill in order to save him the anguish and sadness that typically accompany his mother’s presents. She is sick of letting her cold and heartless mother-in-law ruin her husband’s birthday. However, as Lila’s secret is revealed, a number of things happen, and Lila gets called out by the family.
Bill, my spouse, was clearly anxious. His birthday was approaching, and each year his mother gave him a gift that felt like a kick in the face.
Bill sat with his shoulders hunched on our ragged couch.
Trying to appear casual, he asked, “Do you think she’ll actually care this time?”
I put my palm on his and moaned. I was at a loss as to what to say. My husband had a rocky connection with his mother, so I knew I had to reassure him.
“Perhaps,” I replied. “Remember, though, that it’s your birthday that we’re celebrating, not hers. Whatever happens, honey, we’re going to have a blast.”
Bill gave me a smile that did not quite get to his eyes. I was aware of his deep desire for Carol to love and value him, but she consistently let him down. It went beyond the presents alone. It was the emotion that mattered.
I had heard the story from Bill a long time ago. Although they had a great relationship, things took a different turn when Carol married Adam, her second husband. He was from his mother’s first marriage.
The birth of Bill’s younger brothers made matters worse. Carol told Bill that she now only had eyes for Adam and their sons.
“All right,” he replied. “This year will be different.”
I knew deep down that nothing would shift. Nothing could ever convince Carol that her ways were wrong because she was so entrenched in them.
A little package arrived two days before his birthday. Since Tom, our neighbor, was home, Bill and I took care of it.
“Hey, Lila,” uttered. “There was a delivery for you when I arrived home. You can simply pick it up from me later because I have signed for it.”
“Thanks, Tom!” I stated. “Please send me a photo?”
Tom texted me a picture of the package a short while later. There was a box that was wrapped and with a note that said,
Perhaps this will make you more alert!
I recognized it right away as coming from Carol.
Never again. Not another present that would merely serve to highlight Bill’s perception of his mother’s lack of concern. I was filled with a mixture of melancholy and rage as I looked at the picture.
How could she not see the consequences of her actions?
“What is that? What do you have your eyes on?” With the trolley rattling between us, Bill questioned as we made our way through the grocery shop.
Nothing significant, I replied. “Just one of the girls from work.”
I responded to Tom’s text:
Thank you; I’ll come collect it soon!
Tom replied right away:
Yes, exactly! Put it out of your mind.
When we returned home that evening, I told Bill that I would run errands while he prepared supper.
“I just need to get something from Lisa across the road,” I said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He responded, “Sure, honey,” slinging chicken about a pan.
Tom grinned as he opened the front door.
He said, “Hi,” as if he had been waiting for me all afternoon. “Come on in.”
As soon as I walked inside his house, I was drawn to the parcel that was sitting on the table.
He hovered while I read the note, asking, “What’s so secretive about this package?”
It comes from Bill’s mother, Carol. She sends Bill a terrible birthday present every year. And it breaks him every time.”
“What do you mean?” Tom enquired. “Not fancy enough?”
“Not even close,” was my response. It’s always something chilly and careless. I’m curious to see what’s inside because of this. I’m going to let it go if that’s her typical behavior.”
There was just one pair of socks in the packaging.
I stated aloud, “She’s ridiculous.”
Tom gave me a wide-eyed look.
He shook his head and questioned, “What’s wrong with her?”
While enjoying cocktails at home the night before Bill’s birthday, I made the decision to inform him about the package. I didn’t want the day to be marred by the knowledge that he would be waiting on anything from his mother.
“My dear,” I said. “Your mother sent a package while we were away. Tom, then, processed it. He stated he was away for the day and we could collect it from him later.”
My spouse’s face brightened.
He said, “It’s okay, love.” “We’ve got enough to focus on tomorrow.”
And we paid attention.
I had everything set up for Bill’s ideal birthday celebration. I really went overboard with the cake and food as we had invited a few friends around.
The nicest thing was that everyone who came brought meaningful gifts that expressed to Bill how much each of us valued him.
I hadn’t seen my hubby this happy in a long time. The contrast between his customary birthday disappointment and the excitement in his eyes and laughing was striking.
It seemed as though Tom had forgotten about our agreement a few days later, when he suddenly appeared at our front door with the package in hand. His error was explained by the slight alcohol odor on his breath.
As he entered, he remarked, “My dad was just as bad at picking gifts.” “This is from your mother.”
Bill laughed, his interest sparked.
“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”
His look went from inquisitive to disappointed as he opened the gift and took out the socks.
With obvious hurt in his eyes, he said, “Seriously?”
I wrapped him in my arm.
“I didn’t want your birthday to be ruined by this. I apologize so much, honey,” I said.
Bill inhaled deeply.
“I understand, Lila. I appreciate your efforts to keep me safe,” he stated.
However, I could still perceive the lingering disappointment. Not only were the socks an issue, but his mother’s persistent disregard for him was as well.
Regretfully, Mike, Bill’s brother, was also present at our residence. And he had listened to the whole exchange.
He questioned me, “Why would you hide it?” “It’s just a gift.”
“Just a gift?” I fired back. Are you blind to the pattern here? Really? She goes above and beyond for you and Sam every year, but Bill just seems to understand this?”
Mike gave a shrug.
“He is more senior. He doesn’t require pricey items.”
“But he has never gotten good gifts, even when he was your age,” I replied. “Mike, it’s not about the money. It’s all in the reasoning behind it.”
From there, things quickly got out of hand. Being the mama’s boy that he was, Mike called their mother and spilled the beans.
My phone soon started beeping with messages. Carol, my mother-in-law, was incensed.
Lila, how dare you withhold my gift? You awful girl. You are cruel and pampered.
It continued after that!
Carol attacked me in the family group chat, accusing me of poisoning her connection with Bill and labeling me toxic. His brothers rushed in, defending their mother and claiming that I had no authority to get involved.
I informed Bill, “I’m not going to entertain this,” while he sucked down his beer.
I penned a lengthy note, describing all the years of careless presents Jake had gotten in comparison to his brothers.
I wanted to celebrate my husband’s birthday—your son—without causing him any pain or sadness. He should also feel appreciated.
It was a harsh reply. Jake quickly went once they expelled me from the group chat.
Later, Carol sent me a private message in which she once more referred to me as poisonous and accused me of causing rifts between Bill and his family.
However, I was aware that my spouse had been in pain for a very long time before I was born.
During a stroll through our neighborhood one evening, my spouse turned to face me.
“I’ve been thinking, you know. Perhaps some new customs should be established. ones that don’t involve holding out for my mother’s parcel.”
“That would be nice. What if we started organizing something unique for your upcoming birthday?” I enquired.
Bill smiled.
Why not take a road trip? Only the two of us?”
How would you have responded in that situation? Was it wrong of me to defend my husband?
Here’s another story for you to enjoy if you liked this one.
At my birthday party, my boyfriend brought food from his mother for him to eat.
Jamie, Gabi’s boyfriend, would prefer to eat supper with her alone when she organizes a private birthday dinner for her closest friends and family. Jamie arrives at the party with his own food, prepared by his mother, after feeling pressured to give in. He feels misled and hurt, so Gabi gives him a lesson.
I’m naturally an introverted person. That was simply one of the factors that shaped my identity. I therefore just wanted to spend a weekend with my loved ones for my birthday.
I started cooking, poured some tea, and lighted candles all over my house. I desired perfection in everything. I wanted to prepare the dinner, but I knew my folks would bring the birthday cake.
I had thoughtfully planned my menu to ensure that everyone who was invited would have at least one dish they enjoyed. I wanted everyone to feel welcomed and at home.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you out to dinner, Gabi?” Jamie, my boyfriend, questioned me the previous day while we were getting coffee.
Yes, I replied. “I want to prepare food for everyone. Nicole, Jenna, and the boys are the only others there save you and my parents. Just those who are closest to you.”
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Though it has been romanticized for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.
The publisher and author disclaim all liability for any misinterpretation and make no claims on the veracity of the events or character portrayals. The thoughts represented in this story are those of the characters and do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or publisher. The story is offered “as is.”