Everything was ready for our long-awaited Aruba trip until my passport disappeared the morning of our departure. When my MIL calmly stated, “Maybe you weren’t meant to go,” I knew it wasn’t an accident. But how can I convince my husband?
I almost skipped Aruba. Not because I refused. I ached to. Because someone else said I shouldn’t.
Start at the beginning.
We planned a family trip to Aruba. We took our first genuine vacation in years with my husband Nathan and our seven-year-old daughter Emma.
We hadn’t taken a vacation in years due to work, education, and other adult obligations. This vacation meant everything to me.
Sun, sand, and no work emails… I needed peace like oxygen.
But then Donna, my MIL, arrived. She was single and lonely after breaking up with her lover.
Two weeks before we left, she contacted Nathan and said, in her adorable, “poor little me,” voice, “Maybe I could tag along, Natie. Not been anywhere in ages. I dread staying home alone while you have fun…
I wanted to avoid taking my judgmental MIL with a superiority complex on my ideal vacation. I could not exclude her without being rude at that time.
So I smiled at Nathan and said, “Sure.” Why not?”
I believed I could handle a few awkward dinners for beach time.
Big mistake!
I ran around checking everything the night before the flight.
I triple-checked our bags, packed everything down to the toothbrush caps, and zipped my, Nathan’s, and Emma’s passports into a travel folder on the kitchen counter.
We prepared.
Donna insisted on staying the night before the flight so we could all go to the airport together.
Fine. One less hassle, I thought. Naturally, she couldn’t sleep like a regular person.
Instead, she ambushed Nathan around 10 p.m. and asked him to demonstrate the guest room Echo speaker. “So I can adjust the fan or the temperature, Natie,” she replied, helpless and amazed.
That item was in there. Baby Emma. She could only slumber in the guest room, which we used for lullabies and white noise throughout her sleep regression.
Today, guests find it convenient. Saying, “Alexa, turn on the fan,” works. Simple.
But Donna? She required a whole tutorial. I understood it. Not the speaker. To dominate Nathan’s attention.
I watched her smile at him and say, “It’s just so complicated, Natie,” from the hallway. You always made tech seem easy.”
Naturally, he bought it. He taught her how to say, “Alexa, lower the temperature,” like a good son while I died within.
I remained silent. Nathan never listened to my criticism of Donna’s manipulation. I finally accepted that his rose-colored glasses were fused to his face.
Nathan woke me up the next morning.
Are you ready, babe? We must go in an hour!”
I sped through my routine, my heart hammering with pre-trip anxiousness, and grabbed the travel folder.
It was on the counter, as I left it. When I opened it, my passport was gone.
I froze. I rechecked. I searched the folder like the passport might appear if I looked hard enough.
Nothing.
I searched cabinets, trash, junk mail, Emma’s backpack, and the fridge but found nothing.
I panicked as I went upstairs and into the bedroom.
I panted, “My passport, Nathan. Not in the folder.”
He frowned. Didn’t you put it in last night?
“Yes! I organized everyone. On top was mine.”
He searched with me. Flipped couch cushions and shook laundry baskets. Still nothing.
Donna then drifted downstairs like the Queen of Calm.
“Oh no,” she murmured, clutching her chest. “Is something wrong?”
I said, virtually crying, that my passport was missing. Her response?
“Well, dear…” Such things happen. Maybe you weren’t supposed to go.”
She flicked her eyes slightly. And that smug grin? It could have been a confession.
She did.
I remained silent. Not yet. Nathan would defend her if I accused her without proof. Donna is too adept at acting helpless, and Nathan, bless him, always falls for it.
I swallowed my anger and decided.
“Go to the airport,” I told Nathan. “I’ll figure it out here.”
He paused. Are you sure?
Yes, I said firmly. Delaying longer means missing the flight. One should enjoy the vacation.”
“Go, Natie,” Donna said, feigning concern and beaming. I’ll keep Morgan safe.”
I smiled at her the sweetest I could.
Actually, Donna, I’ll be fine alone. Pack your last things.”
She said, “Oh, well, if you insist,” without hiding her disappointment.
She had ruined my holiday, so I wouldn’t let her enjoy watching me suffer.
I turned and went to the guest room after everyone left for the airport. I had searched the house upside-down and found it last.
Similar to a crime scene detective, I meticulously searched the guestroom. The search for a lost passport became a mission.
I found it in a Ziplock bag under a stack of Better Homes and Gardens magazines in the nightstand drawer.
Passport.
My concerns were confirmed: Donna stole and hid my passport to ruin my vacation!
The final straw. Her bull was bearable for years, but this? This put her in “MIL from hell” zone, and I wouldn’t let it go.
How could I convince Nathan she stole my passport?
He would believe Donna’s explanation about how it got in the bedside drawer unless I had proof.
I reevaluated my possibilities in the room. The little bookshelf across from the bed caught my attention.
I grinned. Wanna play games, Donna? I have some.
I called the airline after putting my passport in my suitcase.
I was stunned. The next aircraft out arrived three hours after theirs with one seat left.
But I didn’t text Nathan. Donna should think she won.
After landing in Aruba before dusk, I took a cab to the resort and walked to the front desk.
The receptionist booked me a suite down the hall from my family’s accommodations at my request.
Since they had an outdoor restaurant dinner reservation, I waited until dessert.
Tiki lights illuminated Nathan, Emma, and Donna from afar. Donna laughed while sipping wine. Glowing.
I walked up.
“MOMMY!” Squealing, Emma leapt from her chair.
Nathan stood up, stunned. “Morgan? You found your passport!”
Donna shook her wine glass. But…how did you…?
I grinned.
Donna, it was as you left it. In Ziplock. Under magazines. In guestroom.”
Silence fell across the table. Nathan looked at his mother in amazement and betrayal.
He asked “Mom?”
Donna sputtered. “That’s ridiculous. I have no idea what she means.”
“Oh? Luckily Alexa recorded everything you said, so let me remind you.” I pressed a phone button.
Alexa opened the recording by saying the temperature was dropping. Donna then spoke clearly via the speakers.
Her vacation is undeserved. Maybe she shouldn’t come if she can’t find her passport. Natie may finally relax without nagging.”
Donna whitened sheet.
Emma clutched my leg, puzzled, as Nathan glanced between us, startled.
Donna got up.
I expected a fight or justification, but she left.
Emma slept as Nathan and I sat on the terrace.
He added, “I thought it was weird that your passport vanished like that, but I never thought Mom would do something so extreme.”
“You didn’t want to see it,” I said. “But this is the line. You cannot let her rule us anymore.”
He nodded. You’re right. So sorry.”
When we arrived home, Donna tried fixing it. First she cried and begged, then she raged.
One day she shouted through the screen door, “I was just trying to protect my son!” “You are a bad influence! You puppeteer him!”
“You’re not welcome in our home anymore,” I said, closing the door in her face.
A few weeks later, I planned a solitary spa weekend. All-inclusive. No Donna. No drama.
The best part?
That excursion was paid for with the reimbursement from the flight she canceled.