My wife and the closet

[fbhjr]

As I have written about several times, my mother and her mother did not
approve of my wife. They tried many different things to break us up
including bribery, extortion and slander.

At one point in 1985 we did break up for a fairly short time. About a
month.
And in that time my mother went on at great lengths about how happy she was
that it had happened, and how much better my life would be.

So, when we got back together I didn’t bother to mention it to my mother.
For a year or so.

She suspected. After all, my (now) wife and I lived in the same building,
had many of the same friends, attended the same events and did a lot
together.

Every time my (now) wife would show up at some event where I was at, my
mother would question me as to why, offer bribes to me to keep away (which
I turned down) and threaten me with removal of the car she had told me she
would give me on graduation, or removal of the funds needed to finish my
degree.
I always was able to explain why my (now) wife was there without there
being a romantic reason.

One Saturday we were at the beach, and my mother’s sister told my mother
about it. But, all my friends who lived in the same building with us had
also gone. So, it seemed to make sense that my (now) wife who lived in the
same building would also be there.

That Sunday morning my (now) wife and I were in my bedroom of my apartment
when I heard the doorbell ring. It was about 7 in the morning, which was
very unusual.
This was before I gave up drinking and there were a lot of parties at our
apartment. They often ran very late, and mornings were usually fairly
quiet with most people recovering from the night before.
I thought about going to get the door, but then I heard one of my roommates
out in the hall and knew they’d get it.
Then I heard my roommate yebo shout:
“Well hello MRS HUNT!”

I realized that my mother was coming up the front stairs to our apartment.
We lived on the 4th floor and it would take my mother a while to climb the
52 stairs to the top. But, my door opened right across from the front
door, so she would be able to see the door to my room long before she
actually reached the top.
I looked out and could already see her on the top landing coming up the
last section of stairs as yebo stood in the door trying to
delay her some.

“Who is it?” my (now) wife asked.
“It’s my mother,” I said. “You should hide.”

My wife was not a big fan of my keeping my parents in the dark about our
relationship. She didn’t like my mother’s unending series of bad things to
say about her either. And, 7 on a Sunday morning was not the time to
resolve the situation.

My room was fairly large, but lacking in good places to hide. So, my wife
climbed into my closet and I gathered up her various items of clothes and
such and put them in there with her. Then I moved around some of my stuff
so she couldn’t be seen.

My mother pushed past yebo and pushed open my door just as I
was about to open it.

“I know you’re dating her again and we’re taking your car!” my mother
shouted at me.
“What on earth are you talking about?” I asked.
“My sister saw you with her at the beach yesterday! You wouldn’t have
brought her there if you weren’t dating!”
“All of my roommates where there as well as all the folks from her
apartment downstairs,” I said. “If this means I’m dating her, then I must
be dating all of them as well!”

We argued about this for about 10 minutes while my father relocated the car
they had planned to give me.
As I understand it, my mother’s plan had been to drive the hour to where I
lived, use her keys to move the car to a hidden place. Then, wait for me
to panic about this and call them. At that point she would demand the
cessation of my romance in return for the location of the car.
This plan failed because:
1) She couldn’t find a very good hiding spot for the car
2) She couldn’t resist confronting me about it.
3) She hoped to, and nearly did, catch me at it.
Finally she agreed that she did not have enough proof and agreed to give me
the location of the car. (I could see it out my front window along with my
father looking confused next it as he looked up at my windows.)
She left and my mother stalked off to join my father for the return hour
home.

I called into the bed room that it was all clear and then sat down in the
living room to make sure they really left and complain to yebo
about my parents.
After another 10 or so minutes, he asked “shouldn’t (my now wife) have come
out by now?”

I went into the bed room and discovered that she had been buried enough not
to hear me shout the all clear. So, I dug her out from the insulation and
related all that went on.
The delay in getting her clear was an issue with us for a while.
I think, 29 years later, that she has forgiven me for it by now.
But, I’m not 100% sure of that…

It was some time later that I finally did tell my mother about my
relationship with my (now) wife. I waited until I actually got my degree
and that couldn’t be stopped. I finally told her at one of the big formal
dinners for her ancestor club she likes so much. (Daughters of the
American Revolution.) So, she couldn’t get into a shouting match with me
when I told her.
She did take the car back, and I did agree to pay her back for college
before I got married. (I thought it wouldn’t take long as an engineer.
Took 8 years.)

These days I just avoid her. I have not seen or spoken to her in 4 ½
years. I sent her an ecard for her 83rd birthday 2 days ago. Another one
is queued up for Mother’s day this Sunday.
That’s more than enough contact with her for my taste.