Claire just wants to be the beautiful mother of the groom. But when she finds out that her daughter-in-law has her own ideas for the wedding, Claire decides to focus on her outfit. This leads to a fight between her and Alice on the wedding day. Alice claims that Claire ruined the wedding by taking her dream dress, while Claire thinks she did nothing wrong. Who is actually at fault?
All I wanted was to be the mother of the groom. That’s it. I just wanted to be a loving mother who adored her son more than anything. But this is the story of how my effort to make my son’s wedding perfect turned into a day we’d all rather forget.
When Mark introduced Alice to us, she was nothing like the person I expected him to fall in love with. Mark, my son, is a lawyer at a top firm, a job he got right after graduating from Stanford.
I’m going to be a lawyer, Mom,” he once told me when he was in high school and working on an essay about his future career.
“I can see that,” I said, making him breakfast as he studied.
“It’s to help fight injustices. For children, specifically,” he added, sipping his orange juice.
Mark had big dreams, and I knew he would always reach for the stars.
Alice was different from Mark. She was light and carefree, while Mark was serious and thoughtful. Alice was a self-taught coder who worked from their cozy apartment. Their personalities, views, and interests didn’t match.
But they made it work—and they were a sweet couple for the most part. But love can be blind.
When Mark proposed to Alice, we were invited to help surprise her.
“Please, Mom,” Mark said on the phone. “Alice isn’t close to her family, so having you and Dad there will show her she’s supported.”
“Of course, honey,” I replied, imagining their wedding.
I put aside my worries and offered to pay for the wedding. James and I had saved money for Mark’s education, but he had received scholarships that covered it all.
“We can use that money for the wedding, Claire,” my husband suggested at lunch the day after the proposal.
“It’s the best thing we can do for them,” I agreed. “This way they can save to move out of that small apartment. I know Mark wants a house with a garden for a dog.”
When we told Mark and Alice, I thought it would bring us closer. I didn’t have any daughters, so I saw this as my chance.
I could get to know Alice better—and it would be good for Mark to see that his wife and mother got along. But planning the wedding only highlighted our differences.
A few months into the planning, I met Alice at a coffee shop to discuss details. But we clashed over everything.
“I think roses are timeless,” I said, enjoying a slice of cake.
“They are, but they’re also overdone,” Alice replied, sipping her tea. “Mark and I want peonies.”
We went back and forth and couldn’t agree on anything.
“How about this?” I suggested. “You pick everything else, and just tell me the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses, so there won’t be any clashes.”
“They won’t be wearing green,” she said. “I’m leaning toward pink.”
I paid the bill, and we parted ways without resolving much.
Then one afternoon, Alice texted me.
“Hi Claire, just picking out my wedding dress with the girls! I wish you were here!”
She attached photos of her top five dress picks.
I knew Alice and I had different ideas about the wedding, but I wanted to be included in the big decisions. I wished she had invited me dress shopping.
“At least she’s sending you the top picks,” James said as he read the newspaper beside me.
“I know, but it’s not the same,” I replied.
“Do they look good?” he asked. “Can I see them?”
We scrolled through the dress photos together. They were fine, but nothing special.
None of them seemed to meet the standard I expected for my future daughter-in-law.
Alice’s favorite dress wasn’t what I expected.
I typed back, telling Alice it wasn’t the best choice and hoped my financial support would matter. James and I hadn’t set a budget; they had everything available to them.
“Why not consider the second one? It might be more flattering for you.”
James chuckled beside me.
“You’re overstepping,” he said.
Before I could respond, I got a message from Alice.
“Sorry, but I disagree. This is the dress I’m choosing.”
That night at dinner, as James plated our salmon, I shared my frustration.
“Alice isn’t even considering my opinion, and I’m paying for the dress!” I said.
James tried to mediate and even texted Mark to let him know how I felt.
“I think you should let them handle the wedding planning now,” he said. “Focus on yourself and your dress.”
Mark eventually convinced Alice to wear the dress I preferred.
I had to admit, it was the easier option, and I hadn’t had time to shop for my dress before that.
So, I visited a few boutiques and found my perfect dress. It was emerald green, which I knew would highlight my eyes.
“That’s beautiful,” James said when I tried it on for him.
I felt different. I no longer felt like the sidelined mother of the groom. Instead, I felt beautiful and confident every time I thought of the dress.
As the wedding week approached, James and I made sure to be present at all the events Mark and Alice needed us to attend, including the rehearsal dinner, where we raised our glasses to toast them.
“All sorted, Mom?” Mark asked me. “Your dress and everything?”
I smiled at my son. Even with the tension between Alice and me, he always checked in on me.
“Of course,” I replied. “I’m ready to celebrate you and Alice.”
On the morning of the wedding, I put on my green dress and did my makeup. It was everything I had wanted to look like for my son’s wedding—elegant and classy.
When I arrived at the venue, the atmosphere was thick with whispers. I ignored them, thinking everyone was just surprised to see me in something different.
I went straight to the bride’s dressing room, hoping to see Alice and compliment her before she walked down the aisle.
When I opened the door, Alice looked up, and her joyful expression turned into one of devastation. She looked me up and down and then burst into tears.
“Why did you do this to me, Claire?” she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion.
Confused, I stepped into the room and closed the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Your dress!” she exclaimed.
“What about it?” I asked, second-guessing everything.
“It’s my dream wedding dress, just in another color,” she said, nearly shouting.
I was taken aback.
“Alice, honestly,” I said. “I didn’t realize—they look so different in color.”
But Alice wasn’t listening. She sat on the couch, her head in her hands.
“How could you?” she cried. “You’ve made this day about you! Just because we didn’t take any of your suggestions!”
Mark, hearing the commotion from his dressing room, rushed in.
“Mom? What’s going on?” he asked, looking between us for an explanation.
Trying to calm the situation, I explained slowly.
“I didn’t see the resemblance, Mark,” I said. “I truly just loved the dress, and I thought—”
Alice stood up and marched toward Mark.
“No!” she shouted. “You thought you’d show me what I could’ve had, but in green. Isn’t that it?”
“Mom, please,” Mark said. “Let’s just try to get through the day. Please, for me.”
I agreed and left the dressing room, wanting to find James and sit quietly until the day was over.
I knew Alice and I were on a thin line, but I didn’t expect her to shout at me like that.
Naturally, I was upset, but I didn’t want to ruin their day any more.
Looking back, maybe I should have been more open to Alice’s wishes. It was her day after all, not just mine to control. The question of whether I was wrong weighs heavily on me.
Yes, in trying to impose my vision, I may have lost sight of what truly mattered—Alice’s happiness and Mark’s peace on their special day.
Was I wrong for what I did?
Rich Landlord Evicts Poor Old Lady from Rental Home, Goes to Family Dinner and Sees Her There — Story of the Day
A heartless landlord gives a woman who falls short on her rent notice. But when he goes to his sister’s house for a family dinner, he is shocked to find her there.
Life is hard, and it becomes even harder if the hearts that surround us are made of stone. Diane Salinger knew about life. At sixty-two, she’d seen a lot more dark days than sunny and cried a lot of tears.
But Diane wasn’t the kind of woman to give up. Every time life knocked her down, she bounced back up again, ready to fight again. She had lost her husband three years before, then a tornado razed her home. But she just picked up the stakes and started over again.
Even when Diane explained why she was short on the rent, Chris showed no sympathy. | Source: Shutterstock.com
She took her savings and bought herself a small grocery store in a pretty mid-sized town in Michigan. It was perfect for her. A big enough town that would appreciate a few of the exotic items she intended to carry, small enough to be cozy and warm.
Cozy and warm might describe the community in general, but not Diane’s landlord, Chris Turkle. It was from Chris that Diane rented her small apartment within walking distance of the store.
When the going gets tough it’s important to be there for each other.
As far as it went, Diane was the perfect tenant. She was quiet, didn’t damage the property, and always paid her rent on time. And then one month, she was short.
Chris fanned out the money he’d taken from the envelope in front of Diane and waved it in her face. “$120 short, Mrs.Salinger.”
Diane’s house was destroyed by a tornado. | Source: Unsplash
Diane blushed. “As I was explaining, Mr. Turkle, since so many of the small businesses have been struggling during Covid… Well, I extended credit to some needy families…And this month, I’m a little short. But you know I’m good for it! I will pay you the $120 in two weeks…”
“If you’re willing to go under playing Mother Teresa, that’s YOUR problem,” Chris snapped. “I, Mrs.Salinger, am a businessman, not a charity! I want you out by the end of the week!”
“But Mr. Turkle…” Diane protested. “It’s only for a week, and it won’t happen again!”
Diane opened a lovely little grocery store. | Source: Unsplash
“It happened once, and it’s enough for me, Mrs.Salinger. You’re OUT.” Chris said coldly, and he turned his back and walked out. He felt quite justified. He’d seen Diane’s grocery store, and it did brisk business.
There were always people trooping in and out with heavy shopping bags full of delicious-looking produce, and her deli section, he’d heard, was extremely popular. “Short on cash indeed!” he snorted to himself. “Taking advantage is what it is!”
Chris went home and got himself ready to go to dinner at his baby sister’s house. Vanessa was his favorite sister, and he often worried about her. She had married and divorced a man who seemed to be constantly unemployed, and Vanessa worked two jobs to make ends meet.
He’d offered to give her 16-year-old son a weekend job, but Vanessa always refused, blushing. “It’s okay, Chris,” she’d say. “I’ll make do!” But Chris had seen the dark shadows under her eyes and how thin her face was getting.
One month, Diane was short on her rent. | Source: Unsplash
It was his nephew’s birthday, so Chris tucked a $20 note into an envelope and put it in his jacket pocket. Then he headed for the door and walked the three blocks to Vanessa’s house.
He knocked on the door, and Vanessa welcomed him with a happy smile. She looked more relaxed and a lot happier. Whatever she was cooking for dinner smelled delicious, and his mouth watered.
“Hey there!” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Where’s the birthday boy?”
“Playing video games with Diane!” Vanessa smiled. “Come on in!” Vanessa walked to the stairs and shouted: “Joss, Diane, come on down! It’s dinner time!”
“I want you out by the end of the week!” | Source: Unsplash
To Chris’ chagrin, in walked Mrs.Salinger, the tenant he’d just booted out of his property, and she seemed to be on great terms with his nephew and his sister! Diane was just as stunned to see Chris, but she was admirably cool.
“Hello,” she smiled. “Nice to see you. I didn’t know you were Vanessa’s brother…”
Chris blushed and cleared his throat. “Ehr…Yes, my younger sister…you know…”
“Come on, everyone,” cried Vanessa. “The roast will get cold!”
Chis was shocked to see Diana at his sister’s house. | Source: Pexels
“Roast!” cried Joss. “That’s my favorite…But mom, I know you only get paid next week! How can we afford this?”
Diane smiled at Joss and patted his hand. “Don’t you worry about that,” she said. “Your mom’s credit is good with me. That smells AMAZING, and I’m starving!”
In a low voice, Chris leaned in and asked, “Is Vanessa the person you’re helping?”
Diane smiled. “She’s one of them,” she replied. “Maybe she didn’t tell you, but one of her jobs fell through, so I’m just helping out until she’s back on her feet.”
Chris felt a wave of shame color his cheeks. “I’m so sorry about…you know… But why doesn’t Vanessa come to me?”
Dinner was a wonderful roast from Diane’s store. | Source: Unsplash
Diane said gently, “You know, we all have our pride. Vanessa wants to stand on her own two feet and raise her boy. Help from a friend is one thing — being a poor relation asking for charity is another.”
Chris whispered, “I tell you what, from now on, you have the apartment at half-price — call it an investment in the town’s well-being and my sister’s!”
By the end of the evening, Chris had discovered that Diane was a very lovely and funny woman and that he enjoyed her company immensely. That night, his perception of his community shifted. He was going to follow Diane’s example. He was going to give a helping hand.
After that dinner, Chris started helping the community. | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
- When the going gets tough, it’s important to be there for each other. Diane was quietly helping the poorer people in town by selling them food on credit she knew they could never repay.
- Being able to admit you’re wrong and change your ways is an extraordinary thing. Chris not only realized he was wrong about Diane, but he also started to help those who were struggling.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a curvy girl who arrives at a dinner party to discover her fiancé there with a woman assuming her identity.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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