When my mother-in-law gifted me an old car that hadn’t run in over a decade, I thought it was her attempt to humiliate me.
Little did she know, I’d restore it into a masterpiece worth thousands. But just when I was ready to celebrate my success, she demanded it back.
Hi, I’m Elisa, and I’ve always been obsessed with cars.
My dad was a semi-professional racecar driver, and from the moment I could toddle over to the garage, I was hooked.
He taught me everything, from tightening bolts to understanding engines.
By the time I turned 12, I could change a tire in record time. My teenage years were spent more in garages than malls, and I didn’t mind.
Cars fascinated me, and I knew early on that I’d make a career out of working with them.
Fast forward to adulthood, I became a senior mechanic.
My job didn’t just pay the bills.
It fueled my passion.
I believed my life was great. That is, until I met my now MIL, Christine.
But I’ll get to her later. First, let me tell you how I met Henry.
We were introduced by a mutual friend.
Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much.
I mean, I’m a free spirit, and the idea of dating a doctor sounded, well, boring. But the moment we met, my assumptions flew out the window.
Henry wasn’t dull in the slightest. He had this warmth, this spark, and, surprisingly, a real interest in cars.
One evening, during our first conversation, I casually mentioned I was a mechanic.
His eyes lit up.
“Wait, you actually fix cars?” he asked, sounding more impressed than I expected.
“Yep,” I replied. “Engines, transmissions, you name it.”
“That’s awesome!” he exclaimed. “My dad used to take me to car shows as a kid.
I’ve always loved them, but I can barely change a tire without a manual.”
It turned out we had more in common than I’d thought. Over the next few months, we went to car shows together, watched vintage car auctions, and even planned road trips to explore hidden automotive gems. Our connection grew stronger with every shared laugh and tank of gas.
Eventually, Henry told me it was time for me to meet his mother.
We were sitting on my couch, eating takeout, when he brought it up.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” he began, pushing a stray piece of broccoli around his plate.
“It’s probably time you met my mom.”
I paused mid-bite, suddenly feeling like I’d been handed a test. “Your mom?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking sheepish. “She’s… well, she’s a bit of a character.
But I want her to meet you.”
I smiled, though I couldn’t shake the slight knot forming in my stomach.
“Okay,” I said. “When?”
“How about next weekend? I’ll call her and set it up.”
And just like that, I was about to meet Christine.
Little did I know, this would be the beginning of a rollercoaster relationship unlike any I’d ever experienced.
The following weekend, Henry and I drove to Christine’s house.
I decided to bring flowers because I wanted to make a good impression.
Even though Henry told me his mom could be “a bit of a character,” I thought giving flowers would at least make her smile.
As soon as she opened the door, I plastered on my warmest smile and held out the bouquet.
“These are for you, Christine,” I said, trying to sound polite and friendly.
“Oh, how sweet,” she said, taking the flowers without much enthusiasm. Her Southern drawl was as thick as molasses, and her tone didn’t exactly scream excitement. “Come on in, y’all.”
The living room smelled faintly of lavender and coffee.
Henry and I settled on the couch while Christine perched on an armchair, eyeing me like she was trying to size me up.
“So,” she began, folding her hands in her lap, “Henry tells me y’all been seeing each other for a while now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “It’s been about eight months.”
She nodded, then turned to Henry. “And you’re happy, I take it?”
Henry smiled.
“Very happy, Mom.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said, though her tone didn’t match her words. She turned back to me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And what is it you do, Elisa?”
Here we go, I thought.
“I’m a mechanic,” I said proudly, meeting her gaze.
“A mechanic?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“You mean you fix cars?”
“That’s right,” I said, keeping my tone steady.
Christine leaned back in her chair and let out a dry laugh.
“A woman fixing cars?” she said. “That’s not a real career!”
The air felt heavier all of a sudden. I could feel Henry tense up next to me.
“It’s not like that, Mom,” he said firmly.
“Mechanics earn well and it’s a nice job.”
She gave him a skeptical look.
“Oh, I’m sure it is, honey,” she laughed. “I just think it’s mighty unusual. Women these days, always tryin’ to do men’s work.”
I forced a smile, but inside, I was fuming.
Before I could respond, Henry spoke up.
“I love Elisa, and you’ll just have to accept that, Mom. She’s amazing at what she does, and I’m proud of her.”
Christine’s lips tightened, but she nodded. “Well, if you’re happy, that’s all that matters, I suppose.”
The rest of the visit was just as awkward.
She pretended to accept me, but I could tell she wasn’t thrilled about me being in her son’s life.
After we left, I turned to Henry.
“Your mom doesn’t like me,” I said bluntly.
“She’s just… set in her ways,” he sighed. “But don’t worry, Elisa. I’ve got your back.”
We got married a year later, and though Christine attended the wedding, her lukewarm attitude toward me hadn’t changed.
Henry and I bought a house just a few blocks away from hers, which meant I had to see her more often than I would’ve liked.
Every time we visited, she’d find some way to make a snide remark about my career or subtly imply that I wasn’t go
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