Bernie has a sister. We call her The She-Devil. She has a husband. We call him Mr. Wonderful (don’t let the dripping sarcasm hit you).
They live ten minutes away from us and truly, we see my brother and sister-in-law in MN more frequently then we lay eyes on the other couple.
To be honest, I have a lot of anger toward them. Many things have happened in the years since Bernie and I got married to put me off. I am trying to forgive what I feel are slights, slams and brush-offs; but I am having a hard time.
Mr. Wonderful stopped by Jim’s shop earlier in the week and proceeded to try to “chat” with him while Bernie was trying to work. He had some questions about a vehicle problem and, if the past in any indication, he was trying to get the work done for free. Bernie couldn’t take the time to look at the vehicle and offered to stop by their home that evening to diagnose it; but when he got there no one was home. He came home pretty steamed. I was cooking supper when there was a knock on the door. Mr. Wonderful “dropped by”. Great. He then proceeds to answer his cell and have a 20-minute conversation with his next door neighbor. TWO HOURS LATER, he finally left and dropped the truck off at the shop the next morning. One of Bernie’s co-workers helped him and commented to Bernie “Wow, you could have warned me. That guy is an asshole”.
I happened to call the shop that afternoon and got to talking with one of the other guys there. He mentioned that they were having a great time just listening to Bernie’s stories about his family and asked my opinion. I said it would take to long to explain in a phone call. They really wanted to know, and I like to hang at the shop and watch them work, so I stopped by on the way home and told them what I thought.
First, we have to explore the family dynamic a bit. Bernie’s parents are both deceased. Many of my friends are jealous of the fact that my married life does not involve a meddling parents-in-law; but folks, the one sister he does have makes up for that in spades!
First story: The betrothal of Bernie and me. He proposed to me very off-the-cuff. Literally looked over at me one night and said “Do you want to get married?”. I’m no dummy, so I jumped at the chance. We picked out a ring together and, as luck would have it, said bauble ended up being just a mite larger than the She-Devil’s. It’s not that big; but she felt it would be oh-so-appropriate to replace her original ring with one just a little bigger than mine. So be it.
Story two involves my bridal shower. She-Devil (then pregnant with kiddo #2) attends and brings Bernie’s niece along to open all of my presents. I love this little tow-head with all my heart and we had a great time. Now, my mother is a very wonderful woman who will go out of her way to make someone feel welcome. She sort of took She-Devil under her wing and they did a bit of bonding. More background about Ma…my Da likes to design wonderful (very expensive) jewelry and she likes to wear it on special occasions. Being that it is my bridal shower, she’s tastefully displaying her 4-carat anniversary ring and quite a brooch. She-Devil zeros in on this…the bitch can smell money at 100 paces, and promptly invites my mom to the baby shower that she is throwing for herself the next weekend. Mom goes out and buys three things off of the arms-length registry and is still waiting with bated breath for any type thank-you note to be deposited into her mailbox. The kid is almost seven years old. Probably not gonna happen at this point.
Story three involves the Christmas from Hell. My nephew is to have a birthday party a couple of weeks before Christman and Mr. Wonderful asks Bernie if he might help mow the lawn and do some general maintenance prior to the appointed time. BUT, no times were ever mentioned and no one ever called to firm anything up with Bernie. My Bernie is a busy guy and sometimes even lets his cell phone battery run down. Mr Wonderful makes She-Devil call and bitch her brother out for not showing up to do the his bidding and we are subsequently uninvited to the little tyke’s celebration (she says we aren’t welcome; but she will bring the birthday boy over to collect his presents from us later that evening).
Fast forward to Christmas. She is hosting a dinner at her McMansion and after refusing to return calls or answer e-mails from is since the birthday party incident, invites us via e-mail (not so much a “Will you come?” deal either, more like Emily Gilmore on expired crack). I let her know that we are passing on her “kind invitation” and plan to spend a quiet evening at home. She then proceeds to call me at work and bitch me out about how we are bad people for not coming to the birthday party and otherwise not doing their bidding. Bernie and I talked about it a little later and decided to go for the sake of the kiddos. It’s not their fault that they were bred by complete and utter assholes. Christmas Eve dawns light and fair with me throwing up blood. I was so stressed out about having to put on a happy face that I made myself sick. Bernie makes the call. She answers the phone and says, “I know why you’re calling. Fuck you”. No concern that something might be wrong…just Fuck You. Bernie slams the phone down. He’s mighty pissed. She calls back not five minutes later. To offer an apology, you ask? Nope, Bernie picks up the phone and she says “WHEN DO WE GET OUR PRESENTS?” Needless to say, he hung up without a word.
Then there was the matter of my Grandmother dying. She was tired and just ready to go. Our entire clan was on deathwatch for a couple of weeks. I figured that I had better let She-Devil know what was up, since we would have to travel when the inevitable happened and I didn’t want her to drive by the house and wonder why there was a strange car parked in the driveway (a kind co-worker had offered her services as doggie-sitter). Grandma’s nurse called my mom on a Friday morning and said that Grandma was asking for me. I got the call and left work immediately to be with her. This day also happened to be my birthday. Bernie saw She-Devil the next morning and found out that she had e-mailed me the day before and was wondering why I never responded. He explained that I was spending time with my dying Grandmother. She-Devil’s reponse? “Wow, it must be nice to be able to skip work on your birthday”.
She-Devil also enjoys hosting “home parties”. In fact, the only time she contacts either her brother or I is when there is a gift-giving occasion or she is having one of these functions. I would go to these gatherings and have to admit, she always made an effort to make her guests feel comfortable and welcome. It got the the point, though, that I would get a call about an hour prior to the appointed arrival time and she would request that I bring MY SERVING DISHES along with me. I guess she liked my pattern better than she liked hers? I don’t even want to try to understand that one.
Things have actually taken an amusing turn since my niece has gotten old enough to figure out how to use the phone. She’ll call me to let me know that “mommy was talking about you again”. My favorite so far has been when my niece asked if she and nephew could visit our home and play with our dogs. Her mother told her “We don’t need to go over there anymore. Our house is bigger and cleaner”. I love that a seven-year old tuned into how wrong that was and I laughed out loud when she called me to relay it.
Bernie’s co-workers were in stiches until I relayed this one.
After my dear Grandma did die, I got a call from She-Devil. She had the BALLS to ask the following:
“We need to know how much money your Grandma left you. Since you can’t have kids, we figure all of your money will go to our kids, so we’d like to do a little financial planning and need to know.”
Stunned silence.
And an affirmation that I am not wrong in my anger.
