Mia and Bob’s anniversary trip is supposed to be a romantic paradise, until her mother-in-law crashes it. Linda books a room next to theirs, sabotages every romantic moment, and whispers horrible things to Mia. But Linda has no idea that Mia is about to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.
Bob and I had needed this trip.
After months of stress, juggling work, parenting, living with his mother, Linda, after our house fire, and barely having time to breathe, this Hawaii getaway was our first break in years. And we were celebrating our seventh wedding anniversary, too!
No kids. No responsibilities. Just us.
For the first three days, it was absolute heaven.
We slept in while wrapped in the softest hotel sheets you’d ever imagine. We had slow breakfasts on the balcony while watching the waves crash against the shore. We spent afternoons lounging on the beach, sipping cocktails, and touching each other like we were newlyweds again.
For the first time in forever, I had my husband all to myself.
Until she arrived.
I turned my head slowly, like a horror movie protagonist realizing the monster was standing right behind them.
There she was.
Linda.
My mother-in-law!
“Mia! Bobby!”
That high-pitched, singsong voice that I had spent the last three months trying to escape.
She stood there, wearing a bright floral dress, oversized sunglasses, and a smug little smile plastered onto her face.
“I thought you’d get bored without me!” she chirped. “So, here I am!”
I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.
Bob, on the other hand, nearly choked on his drink.
“Mom? What the hell are you doing here? Seriously?”
She strolled right up to us, planted her feet in the sand, and beamed.
“I bought a ticket last minute! I figured that you two lovebirds could use some company. And honestly, I needed some sunshine too. I deserve this too.”
“Linda,” I gasped. My throat was suddenly dry. “Where are the kids? Are they okay? Is something wrong? Why are you here?”
She waved a hand dismissively.
“Calm down, Mimi,” she said. “Don’t worry, dear. The kids are with Irene, my best friend. She was missing her grandkids anyway, so she couldn’t wait to spend time with the kids. Her grandkids are literally across the country. This is good for her.”
What on earth was this insane woman going on about? I thought.
I felt my jaw clench.
This woman, who had practically begged us to babysit so we could finally get time alone, had just abandoned our three kids… to stalk us across the Pacific?!
I turned to my husband, Bob. That man looked like he was on death row. His face was suddenly hollow, and his eyes were sunken and tired.
How?
We had been so full of life moments ago.
“What do you have to say about this?” I asked him, setting my cocktail down.
“She’s already here, Mia…” he muttered. “We can’t just send her back. I’m sorry, honey. I guess we just have to put up with this.”
I felt something deep inside me crack open.
Was my husband really going to let his mother crash our anniversary vacation? Was he really going to sideline me while he did everything for her? Did he think that this was okay?
Seriously?
“I’m going to get Mom a drink,” he said, already making his way to the beach bar.
Oh, goodness. It had already started, I thought to myself.
And then, Linda took Bob’s seat and leaned in.
“Mia, do you really think that you’re my son’s main woman now? Don’t lie to yourself. I still am.”
I swear, even the ocean went silent.
But what the hell did she mean? I had been with Bob for nine years. We had been married for seven of those years. I was the main woman. I was the mother of his children. I was his priority.
Right?
Right…
I didn’t say anything. I just sighed and waited for Bob to return.
But as the afternoon went on, Linda booked a room right next to ours and spent the rest of our trip ruining everything.
That first night, Bob and I were supposed to have a picnic on the beach with other couples. We had already ordered the food through the hotel’s room service menu. All we had to do was pick up the basket and go down to the beach.
But guess what happened?
Linda had taken the entire basket to her room and helped herself to it.
But that wasn’t all.
The romantic sunset cruise?
Linda suddenly “felt dizzy” and needed Bob to take her back to her room.
The private dinner on the beach?
Oh, Linda had “accidentally” changed the reservations to seat a table for three.
The couple’s spa evening?
She “couldn’t sleep alone” because of “nightmares” and begged Bob to “just come back to her room for a second.”
I was seething.
But on the third night, as she knocked on our door for the fourth time, I snapped.
“Bob, don’t open it,” I whispered. “Please. Just don’t do it.”
“But she… what if she isn’t okay? What if she needs us?”
“Don’t you dare open that door,” I said through gritted teeth.
I had enough. More than enough. I was frustrated. I was exhausted. My anniversary felt like a nightmare.
Then, the next morning I made a phone call.
“Endless Adventures, Hawaii. How can we help?” a voice said.
“Hi,” I said, slipping into the bathroom to not wake Bob. “I need your most exclusive experience. No, I won’t be attending. But my mother-in-law will. She’s going to love this!”
“Not a problem, ma’am. We’ll send over a schedule to your room shortly. Give me all the details, including any possible health issues that your mother-in-law may have.”
By the time Linda woke up, she had a full day waiting for her.
6:00 a.m.: Sunrise Hike (10 miles and only one break).
9:00 a.m.: Volcano Tour (Barely any shade and scorching temperatures).
Noon: Traditional Hawaiian Dance Class (Long, tiring, and absolutely unavoidable).
3:00 p.m.: Cultural Cooking Class (Mandatory for the package. Three hours of chopping, stirring, and sweating).
6:00 p.m.: Private Night Safari (Sleep for who?).
She came knocking on our door just before 7 a.m. Bob opened it slightly, just enough for me to see Linda standing there, looking flustered, sweaty, and confused. He let her in.
“Mia, Bob, did you guys sign me up for something? My phone keeps sending me all these reminders for activities… but I seem to have missed some hike because I was asleep.”
I gasped, hand to my chest, acting like my life depended on it.
“Oh no, Linda! Did they put you in some activity program by accident? Maybe you agreed to something when you checked in. That’s so weird.”
Bob, my sweet, oblivious, and annoying husband, blinked.
“Do you… do you want to cancel?” he asked.
She hesitated.
See, Linda had a big mouth and a lot of pride. She would do anything to save face. If she said yes, she’d have to admit she couldn’t keep up. She would have to admit that she was struggling.
And then, we’d all know that I had outplayed her.
So, she lifted her chin and forced a smile.
“No… no, I’ll go. I wouldn’t want to waste the experience. And I don’t want them to charge my room for things I didn’t do.”
Good. Very good.
She dragged herself through every single activity. And every time she thought she had a break, someone was right there to take her to the next thing. But at least she was looking forward to the cooking class.
By day two of the activity schedule, she was too exhausted to call or text.
By day three, she tried finding us, but every time she got close, a tour guide was ready to whisk her away.
“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, ma’am!” they would always say.
By day four, I got the call.
Her voice was weak and desperate.
“Mia, please help me. Please make it stop. I just want to go home. You guys can do whatever you want here, but I want to go home. My body is sore…”
Oh, Linda.
Mission accomplished.
“Don’t worry, Linda,” I said. “I’ll call the reception and cancel whatever they did.”
There was a pause.
“You did this, didn’t you?” she asked after a moment.
“I did,” I said simply. “But you deserved it. Especially after what you said on the beach that first day. And how you ruined every romantic thing we had planned.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I couldn’t believe my ears.
“What?” I asked.
“You heard me, Mia,” she said. “I’m sorry. I was lonely. And I wanted to come on holiday with you guys. Irene told me to do it, and I did. It was impulsive and stupid.”
“You overstepped,” I said. “I get it. I get feeling stuck and feeling lonely. I understand the need to want to get away. But you could have spoken to us. You didn’t have to buy a ticket and come on our anniversary trip. You didn’t have to be nasty to me and say that you were my husband’s main woman.”
She was silent again.
“Our home will be ready by the time we get back,” I continued. “We’re going to move out and see you on weekends.”
“I’m going to miss having you guys at home.”
“I’m booking you a flight back this afternoon. Or tomorrow morning. I’ll see what’s available,” I said, ignoring her.
I managed to find a flight that afternoon.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Bob asked as he tucked into an omelet.
“She flew here by herself,” I said, digging into mine. “She will be just fine.”
We took her to the airport that afternoon. She was slumped in the rental car, too drained to argue and too exhausted to plot anything else. But I had a feeling that she was thinking about our earlier conversation.
As Bob helped her out of the car, I leaned in, my voice soft and low.
“Maybe I’m not Bob’s number one, Linda,” I said. “But at least now you know, I can outdo you at surprises.”
She froze. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and they widened just a fraction. And in that moment, it hit her.
She couldn’t pull these stunts anymore.
“I’ll see you guys at home,” she said quietly. “And I know that you’re going to move out soon. I’m going to enjoy spending time with the kids while I still have them.”
“Yeah, that’s what you should have been doing all along,” Bob said. “But at least you learned how to make some Hawaiian food. That’s always a good thing.”
Linda chuckled weakly.
“Well, this is me,” she said. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
And do you know what?
Linda never pulled another stunt like that again.
What would you have done?
