A loud, demanding knock rattled the flimsy front door of our rental apartment so hard it sent the cat leaping off the windowsill. “Mike, don’t just stand there—grab the bag and bring it inside!” my mother-in-law barked from the hallway in that familiar voice that never invited discussion. “And not on the rug, for heaven’s sake. It’s leaking. Put it on the linoleum.”
The apartment door flew open so hard it looked like someone had shoved it with a battering ram. First through the doorway came a huge plaid duffel bag, nearly taking out the coat rack. Behind it stumbled Mike, red-faced and breathing hard under the weight of it.
Bringing up the rear was Susan, my mother-in-law—a large, loud woman who had never met a room she couldn’t take over. She had a way of filling every inch of space, including the air above everyone else’s heads. I was in the kitchen, finishing my morning coffee and trying to get my head in the game for a stressful quarterly report I had to submit from home that day.
It was my one day off, and I had planned every hour carefully. The last thing I wanted at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning was an unannounced visit from Susan.
But reality, as usual, had no interest in my plans. I set my mug down on the counter and walked into the hallway, adjusting the belt of my robe on the way. I put on the polite smile I saved for moments like this.
“Susan,” I said evenly, “what brings you here so early? Mike and I weren’t expecting company this weekend.”
She looked me up and down with open disapproval. “Since when do I need an appointment to see my own son?” she shot back. “I’m not some stranger off the street.”
With that, she kicked off her dusty shoes right in the middle of the narrow hallway, revealing worn nylon footies over thick tights, and marched straight toward our kitchen like she owned the place.
“Good grief, it’s stuffy in here,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Do you people ever open a window? What do you breathe in this place?”
Meanwhile, Mike dropped the bag in the far corner of the hall with a heavy thud. A sour, fermented smell began spreading from it immediately. Within seconds it overpowered the smell of my coffee.
“What exactly did you bring us?” I asked, nodding toward the bag and trying not to inhale too deeply.
