“You ungrateful bitch!” my mother-in-law snapped.
I looked at her for a few seconds. Then I smiled. “Ah. Finally, you’ve run out of arguments.” Carmen’s face froze.
My husband, Javier, who was standing by the kitchen counter with a bottle of water in his hand, slowly lowered his eyes.
His sister Lucía, sitting across from me, immediately stopped tapping on her phone.
Even Antonio, Carmen’s husband, put down his fork.
It was Sunday, a little after two in the afternoon, and just fifteen minutes earlier, everyone had been eating peacefully at our house.
Well… almost peacefully.
Carmen had started by criticizing the potatoes.
Then the chicken.
After that, she asked why we had bought a new coffee machine when “the old one worked perfectly fine.”
I let it go.
So did Javier.
Then she noticed the two boxes beside the living room door.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Some things for Lucía,” I replied.
Lucía looked up.
“For me?”
“Yes. The plates, the small electric oven, and the glasses you wanted.”
She smiled.
“Oh, right! Thanks, Elena. I was actually going to ask when I could come pick them up.”
“Take them today.”
Carmen studied the boxes.
Then she frowned.
“And the microwave?”
“What microwave?”
“The one you had before.”
I immediately understood where she was going with this.
Three weeks earlier, we had replaced several appliances in the kitchen. Our old microwave still worked, so we decided to give it to a student who had just rented her first apartment in our building.
“We gave it away,” I said.
Carmen put down her fork.
“To whom?”
“Our neighbor on the third floor.”
“Why?”
The question caught me off guard.
“Because she needed one.”
“Lucía could have needed it too.”
Lucía immediately raised a hand.
“Mom, no. I don’t need one.”
But Carmen was already ignoring her.
“You could at least have asked the family before giving your things away to strangers.”
“It was our microwave.”
“I know perfectly well whose microwave it was.”
“Then I don’t understand the problem.”
Carmen straightened in her chair.
“The problem, Elena, is that in a normal family, you think of your own people first.”
I looked at Javier.
He sighed.
“Mom, Lucía just said she doesn’t need it.”
“This isn’t only about the microwave.”
Of course it wasn’t.
With Carmen, it was never only about a microwave.
She took a sip of water before continuing.
“You two have changed a lot lately.”
“Who’s ‘you two’?”
“You and Javier.”
“How have we changed?”
“You live in your own little bubble. You make every decision yourselves. You buy whatever you want, go wherever you want, give your things to whoever you want…”
I couldn’t help smiling.
“Yes. That’s generally what two adults do.”
Antonio lowered his head to hide a smile.
Carmen noticed.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“Nothing,” he replied.
She turned back to me.
“You know perfectly well what I mean.”
“Not really.”
“Javier used to be much closer to his family.”
This time my husband put down his bottle.
“Mom…”
“What? It’s true.”
“I see you almost every week.”
“That’s not the same.”
“What isn’t the same?”
Carmen hesitated.
Then she said:
“You used to ask for our opinion.”
Javier gave a short laugh.
“About what?”
“Lots of things.”
“Give me one example.”
Silence.
Carmen thought for a few seconds.
“Your car.”
“My car?”
“When you bought your first car, you asked your father for advice.”
Antonio immediately added:
“He was twenty-two.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Javier nodded.
“Exactly. I was twenty-two. I’m thirty-eight now.”
“That’s no reason to stop listening to your parents.”
“I listen to you. That doesn’t mean you get to decide.”
Carmen’s expression hardened.
And that was when I knew lunch had officially gone off the rails.
She turned toward me. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
“What?”
“That way of talking.”
“Javier was the one who just spoke.”
“But he didn’t talk like that before he met you.”
Lucía closed her eyes.
“Mom, stop.”
“No, I’m not stopping. Someone has to say it.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“Then say it.”
Carmen looked me straight in the eye.
“Ever since he’s been with you, my son thinks he doesn’t owe anyone anything anymore.”
“I didn’t know he was in debt.”
“Don’t twist my words.”
“I’m not.”
She started counting on her fingers.
“When you moved, who helped you?”
“We paid movers.”
“Your father-in-law still carried boxes!”
Antonio raised his eyebrows.
“Three boxes.”
“Antonio, please.”
I answered calmly.
“And we took you both out to dinner that same evening to thank you.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Fine. Keep going.”
“Who gave you the microwave when you moved in?”
I looked at her.
“The microwave we were just talking about?”
“Yes.”
“My mother.”
A strange silence fell over the table. Lucía lowered her eyes.
Javier coughed into his fist.
Carmen blinked.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m speaking generally.”
“Fine. Generally, then.”
She crossed her arms.
“We have always been there for you.”
“And we have always been there for you too.”
“Oh, really?”
The way she said those two words got under my skin.
“Yes.”
“When?”
I placed my napkin on the table.
“Do you really want to start keeping score?”
“I’m not keeping score.”
“You literally just started.”
She didn’t answer.
So I continued.
“Last year, when your car broke down, who lent you theirs for nine days?”
Carmen pressed her lips together.
“Javier.”
“Our car. The car I used to get to work.”
“Fine.”
“When your bathroom was being renovated and the workers were three weeks behind schedule, whose house did you shower at almost every evening?”
Antonio murmured:
“Yours.”
“Exactly.”
“Elena, those things are normal in a family,” Carmen shot back.
“I agree. That’s why I never held them against you.”
She realized too late where I was going with this.
I continued.
“When Lucía moved last year, who lent her fifteen hundred euros for the security deposit?”
Lucía looked up.
“Elena…”
“This isn’t about you.”
“I know.”
Carmen, however, had gone quiet. “And when you celebrated your fifty-fifth birthday, who paid the restaurant bill because your card wouldn’t go through?”
“I paid you back!”
“Three weeks later. And I had absolutely no problem with that.”
“Then why are you bringing it up now?”
“Because you just asked what we’ve ever done for you.”
Javier sat down beside me.
“Mom, Elena’s right.”
Wrong sentence.
Very wrong sentence.
Carmen’s expression changed instantly.
“Of course she’s right.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“She’s always right now.”
“Mom…”
“And I’m always the one who gets in the way.”
No one answered.
Carmen pushed her chair back.
“I just wanted a family to remain a family.”
“But it is a family,” I said.
“No.”
“Why not?” “Because this isn’t how a family works.”
“How does it work, then?”
“Everyone only thinking about themselves.”
That was when I felt the last of my patience disappear.
“Carmen, we have lunch together almost every Sunday. Javier calls you several times a week. We help Lucía when she needs something. We lent you our car. We let you stay with us. We host Christmas every other year. What exactly do we still need to do to qualify as a ‘real family’ in your eyes?”
She stared at me without answering.
“Give you the keys to our apartment?”
Silence.
“Ask your permission before we buy something?”
Still nothing.
“Show you our bank accounts?”
Javier murmured:
“Elena…”
But I wasn’t finished.
“Or maybe we should call you before giving away an old microwave to make sure nobody in the family wants it first?”
Carmen’s face turned red.
“You’re deliberately exaggerating.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“You’ve been trying to do exactly that for the past twenty minutes.”
Antonio lowered his eyes again.
Lucía was staring at her plate now.
Carmen placed both hands on the table.
“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”
“That’s not the point.”
“You always have an answer for everything.” “Only when someone asks me questions.”
“And always with that little arrogant smile.”
I hadn’t even realized I was smiling.
“Carmen,” Javier said firmly. “Enough.”
She spun toward him.
“See? You’re defending her again.”
“Because you’re insulting her in our own home.”
“I haven’t insulted her!”
I tilted my head slightly.
“Not yet.”
Carmen shot me a furious look.
“Ever since you came into this family, I’ve made an effort with you.”
I said nothing.
“I welcomed you into this family.”
“Yes.”
“I treated you like my own daughter.”
Lucía suddenly looked up at her mother.
So did I.
Then I asked:
“Do you tell Lucía how to spend her salary too?”
Carmen didn’t answer.
“Do you ask her how much every dress she buys costs?”
“That’s different.”
“Do you show up at her apartment without warning?”
“Elena…”
“Do you criticize her cooking in front of her guests?”
“Stop.”
“Do you tell her that a normal woman should take better care of her husband?”
The silence became heavy.
Javier looked at his mother.
So did Lucía.
Carmen clenched her jaw.
“You twist everything.”
“I’m just repeating your own words.”
“Because you remember everything so you can throw it back in my face someday!”
“No. I remember because you say these things pretty often.”
Antonio sighed.
“Carmen, maybe we should…”
“You stay out of this!”
He fell silent.
And that was the moment everything finally tipped over the edge.
Carmen stood up. “Ever since you came into this family, everything revolves around you.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“Yes! Javier plans his vacations around your work. He buys furniture with you. He decides with you where you spend Christmas. He asks your opinion before making decisions.”
I waited two seconds.
“Carmen… you just described a marriage.”
Lucía suppressed a laugh.
Her mother turned toward her.
“You think this is funny?”
“A little, yes.”
“Of course. Now you’re both against me.”
“No one is against you, Mom,” Lucía replied. “But listen to yourself.”
Carmen grabbed the handbag hanging over the back of her chair.
“Fine. I can see I’m not wanted here.”
Javier stood up.
“No one said that.”
“No one needs to. It’s perfectly clear.”
She took two steps toward the door.
Then she turned back to me.
“I hope you’re happy now, at least.”
“About what?”
“That you managed to turn my own son against me.”
I stood up too.
“No, Carmen. I just think you don’t like realizing that your son can disagree with you without someone manipulating him.”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
“You wanted to talk about the microwave, so we talked about the microwave. You talked about everything you’ve done for us, and I reminded you of what we’ve done for you. You said Javier had changed, and he explained to you himself why. You claimed I was keeping him away from you even though he sees you every week.”
I gave a small shrug.
“So what’s left?”
Carmen was trembling with anger.
“You’re…”
She stopped.
I waited.
“You really are…”
Another second.
Then she exploded.
“You ungrateful bitch!”
The room went instantly silent. Javier turned pale.
“Mom!”
Antonio stood up.
“Carmen, that’s enough.”
Lucía sat there with her mouth open.
I looked at my mother-in-law for a few seconds.
Then, despite myself, I smiled.
“Ah. Finally, you’ve run out of arguments.”
Carmen stared at me.
She understood.
And apparently that one sentence hit her harder than if I had started shouting.
“I’m leaving,” she spat.
“I think that’s best,” Javier replied.
She spun toward him.
“You too?”
“Yes, Mom. Because you just insulted my wife in our own home.”
For the first time since the argument began, Carmen had nothing to say.
She grabbed her coat.
Antonio followed her into the hallway.
Before leaving, he turned back toward us.
“Thanks for lunch.”
Then, after a brief hesitation, he added: “And the chicken was really good.”
Lucía burst out laughing.
Even Javier couldn’t hold it in anymore.
From the hallway, we heard Carmen shout:
“Antonio!”
The door slammed shut.
For a few seconds, no one said anything.
Then Lucía looked at me.
“You know she’s going to tell the whole family you threw her out, right?”
“I didn’t throw her out.”
“I know.”
“And you know that too.”
“I know.” Javier sat back down and ran a hand over his face.
“I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to apologize for her.” He looked at the boxes beside the door. “All this over a microwave.”
Lucía stood up and picked up her plate.
“No.”
She picked up her mother’s plate too.
“The microwave was just the latest excuse.”
I looked at her.
She shrugged.
“Mom isn’t angry because you don’t ask for her opinion anymore.”
“Then why is she angry?”
Lucía smiled faintly.
“Because she’s starting to realize that you never needed her permission in the first place.”
And for once, no one at the table had anything left to add.