At the End of the Wedding, My Mother-in-Law Put the Gift Envelopes into Her Bag, but Her Face Changed After My Calm Answer

Music was still playing in the wedding hall when my mother-in-law opened our gift box and began putting the envelopes into a bag. For several seconds I simply stood and could not breathe. The heavy lower part of my white dress was spread across the floor, while the little glass leaves stuck into my hair jingled with every movement. Almost two hundred guests were laughing, dancing, and congratulating us on our new life. Linda, meanwhile, was calmly emptying the box, as if she were collecting napkins from the table.

“Elene, is everything all right?” my cousin Nino put a hand on my shoulder.

“Look over there,” I said, barely managing to find my voice.

Nino looked. Beside Linda stood a large black bag, and beneath it, on the chair, lay a small golden card with the wedding menu. She took the envelopes one by one, did not even read the names, and threw them into the bag.

“Is your mother-in-law taking the gifts?” Nino asked me in a whisper.

“Apparently.”

I went over to Linda. I was strangely calm. Inside, however, such anger was gathering that it was as if I had locked a fire inside my heart.

“Linda, what are you doing?”

She raised her head and looked at me in surprise.

“Oh, darling, don’t worry. I’m just putting them in a safe place.”

“They were already safe. They were in the box.”

Linda laughed.

“Dear, we paid for half of this wedding. I’m simply keeping our half.”

“You mean the gifts from our guests?”

“Exactly. We spent money, money came back. What is strange about that?”

Behind her, the shadows of the dancers trembled on the wall. The DJ’s loud music covered her last words, but I still remembered every one of them. My aunt had driven for four hours and put a check in the envelope. My grandmother had written with a trembling hand: “May this be the first brick of your home.” Linda saw everything as reimbursement of expenses.

“These gifts were given to Daniel and me,” I said.

“Daniel is called my son,” she answered coldly. “If I bring money into his life, the money received from his family is also my concern.”

At that moment I saw my mother at the hall door. She too had paid for half of the wedding—with the savings she had been collecting since I was eleven years old. In her hand she held a small wooden box where she kept the greeting cards left by the guests. Mother saw everything, but did not come over. She only shook her head slightly.

No.

That one movement was enough. I did not quarrel with Linda. She closed the bag, pulled the zipper all the way up, and left as if she had carried a vase out of the room.

The next morning I went to my mother. The smell of hot coffee and cinnamon stood in the kitchen, but the heavy air of yesterday’s hall was still stuck in my throat.

“Call Daniel,” I said. “He needs to talk to Linda.”

Mother put the cup on the table.

“Not yet.”

“Then I’ll call him.”

“You either.”

“She took our gifts!”

“I know.”

“And she mocked me.”

“I know that too.”

Mother handed me the phone.

“Call her and invite her to dinner.”

“To dinner?”

“Tomorrow evening. Tell her I’m cooking.”

“Mom, she is stealing money and you are offering her dinner?”

For the first time Mother smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes. There was only determination.

“Elene, sometimes anger makes a person hide their own truth themselves. I want Linda to say everything in her own words.”

That night, at twelve minutes past ten, I called Linda. She answered as if nothing had happened the previous evening.

“Of course I’ll come,” she told me. “I hope this time we’ll also have time to count the gifts.”

I hung up. Mother was already standing by the kitchen cabinet and taking out a yellow folder. She brought her hand to its lock, but stopped before opening it…

Her hand froze above the lock. Mother looked first at me, then at the clock. It was almost eleven at night.

“What is in there?” I asked.

“What will make Linda listen to her own words tomorrow.”

“Mom, are we calling the police?”

“Not yet. Tomorrow she herself will decide whom to call.”

A small device appeared from the side of the folder. Mother told me that there had been security cameras in the wedding hall and that the recording had already been downloaded. My heart contracted.

“You planned everything in advance?”

“No. I only waited for Linda to show her true face.”

The next evening, at eight o’clock, Linda entered our dining room. She held the same large bag in her hand. Candles were burning on the table, and a small card lay beside each plate.

“How ceremoniously you have arranged everything,” she said.

“Sit down,” Mother answered.

Linda put the bag on a chair and immediately asked:

“Where are the remaining envelopes?”

Mother put the folder on the table.

“First let us hear your version.”

Linda’s smile did not disappear, but her fingers gripped the bag’s handle so tightly that the skin turned white.

“Which version?”

Mother began opening the lock, and at that very moment there were three knocks on the door…

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The knocking on the door sounded in the room as if someone had dropped a heavy stone on the table. Linda pulled the bag onto her knees.

“Who are you expecting?” she asked me.

Mother did not answer anything. I opened the door. On the threshold stood Nino’s husband, Irakli, holding a small memory device in his hand and wearing such an expression that I immediately understood: this was no longer only a family conversation.

“Sorry for being late,” he said. “The hall administrator sent me the recording.”

Linda stood up quickly.

“This is absurd. You are my family and you are using cameras against me?”

“You used our wedding against us,” I told her.

Mother turned on the television. The same hall appeared on the screen again: the clock showed ten at night, I was standing in a white dress, and Linda was taking envelopes from the box. The sound could be heard clearly.

“It is our half,” Linda was saying in the recording. “We spent money, money came back.”

Silence fell over the room.

“It was only a joke,” she said.

“Then why did you take the bag as a joke?” Irakli asked her.

Linda looked at the screen and, for the first time, her face grew pale.

“I simply kept it temporarily.”

“Twenty-eight envelopes?” I asked.

Mother opened the folder. Inside were all the receipts for the wedding expenses, a bank statement, and a list of the amounts put in by the guests, which Daniel and I had made the next morning.

“Linda,” Mother said calmly, “you took two thousand four hundred and fifty lari there. You returned part of it, and already transferred part to your own account. This is visible in the bank transactions.”

Linda looked toward me.

“Elene, will you really believe your mother?”

“I believe your recording. Your words.”

At that moment the sound of a car engine came from beyond the door. It was Daniel. As soon as he entered the room, he saw his own mother on the screen throwing envelopes into the bag.

“Mother…”

Linda turned toward him.

“Daniel, they edited everything.”

“That is your voice,” he answered.

“I was doing it for you.”

“You took the gifts from my wedding for me?”

Daniel took the receipts from the folder. His fingers were trembling.

“And this?”

Linda fell silent.

Mother put the phone on the table.

“This conversation ends if you do not return the money by tomorrow morning. Otherwise, we will hand the recording and the bank data to a lawyer.”

Linda pulled the chair back so forcefully that its wooden leg scratched the floor.

“You want to destroy me!”

“No,” I said. “We simply will no longer protect you from the consequences you created yourself.”

She left. She slammed the door hard.

Daniel remained at the table. For a long time he said nothing.

“Elene, I did not know this.”

“Now you know.”

Just then his phone rang. The call was from Linda’s lawyer. Daniel answered, listened for several seconds, and his face changed.

“Mother says that the recording is not the only problem. Apparently tomorrow morning she must submit another document to the bank…”