My Daughter Called Me Telling about a Screaming Woman in My Bedroom – I Rushed Home but Was Not Ready to See This

When Tammy gets a panicked phone call from her 13-year-old daughter, Piper, she does what any mother would do. She rushes home to make sure that everyone is okay, especially because Piper said that there was a woman with her husband, Paul, and they were locked in the master bedroom. But when Tammy gets home, she sees that not everything is what it seemed.

I was barely paying attention to the droning voice on the other end of the conference call when my phone vibrated violently on the table. It was Piper, my daughter. Heart skipping a beat, I excused myself from the call and answered quickly.

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

“Mommy, please come home, there’s a woman screaming!” Piper’s voice trembled with fear.

Panic surged through me.

“Honey, where’s Dad? Wasn’t he supposed to pick you up from school today?”

A shocked woman | Source: Unsplash

A shocked woman | Source: Unsplash

My daughter hesitated, sighing deeply before she continued.

“Dad is here! He’s in your room! He and the woman are in your room,” she replied, a note of confusion in her voice.

Piper was 13; she was still innocent to the world and everything that came with it.

Teenage girl on the phone | Source: Pexels

Teenage girl on the phone | Source: Pexels

But hearing her, my heart started racing.

“Baby, stay where you are. I’m coming right now.”

I quickly returned to my conference call, saying that I had a family emergency to get to. I pulled my keys off the Lego hook Piper had made me, and left the office immediately.

Car keys hanging on a hook | Source: Unsplash

Car keys hanging on a hook | Source: Unsplash

Thoughts of betrayal sliced through me as I sped home.

But it made no sense, Paul was the most considerate person I had ever met. And he was the complete opposite of me. Paul was warm and loving, whereas I could be cold and straightforward.

A smiling man sitting outside | Source: Unsplash

A smiling man sitting outside | Source: Unsplash

He was into alternative medicine and healing and knew everything he could about crystals and the like. He healed through his hands. There was no way that he would willingly hurt me like this.

But then again, my daughter was in the house. And Piper wouldn’t lie about this.

Assorted crystals | Source: Pexels

Assorted crystals | Source: Pexels

Is he really cheating on me? I thought as I gripped the steering wheel. With our daughter right in the house?

It would be unforgivable. It would be the end. I would leave Paul and never go back.

As I sat at a red light, I thought about what Piper was thinking. Surely, hearing a random woman scream was enough to shake her to her core.

Twenty frantic minutes later, I pulled into the driveway, nearly colliding with the mailbox in my haste. Now that I was here, my panic had intensified deeper.

A red traffic light | Source: Unsplash

A red traffic light | Source: Unsplash

I thought about looking for Piper first, but I didn’t want to alert Paul and his guest to my presence. I wanted to catch him in the act.

I took my phone out of my handbag and was ready to confront the worst. I had my camera recording. I heard sounds coming from my bedroom, followed by a woman’s loud whimper.

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

Pushing open the door, the scene before me halted me in my tracks.

Paul, my husband, was massaging a woman in our room.

But it wasn’t what it seemed; that was clear. My husband’s hands were professional and focused.

An opened bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

An opened bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

My husband worked as a masseur and reiki master, and while he had his own rooms, sometimes clients would come home for their appointments.

But this was the first time that he had set up his table in our bedroom. Then it dawned on me; we were renovating Paul’s office outside the house.

A person giving a massage | Source: Unsplash

A person giving a massage | Source: Unsplash

Of course, he had no other place to work from home. He had all these ideas about turning our garden cottage into an entire Zen space for himself.

But our contractors were working at their own pace, and the project was taking a lot longer than it should have.

At the sound of my gasp, they both turned and jerked in surprise.

A home renovation | Source: Unsplash

A home renovation | Source: Unsplash

“I’m so, so sorry,” I stuttered, the blood draining from my face as I realized the gravity of my misunderstanding.

Turning off the camera, I felt a rush of embarrassment.

I went to Piper’s room and found her sitting under the covers with a book.

An embarrassed woman blocking her face | Source: Unsplash

An embarrassed woman blocking her face | Source: Unsplash

“Come on, sweetheart,” I said. “Let’s go make some cookies.”

I needed to do something with my hands. I felt an impossible sense of guilt. I should have known that Paul would never cheat on me; he just wasn’t that type of man. If he was feeling unfulfilled in any way, then he would have told me straight out, rather than betray me.

Mom talking to daughter | Source: Pexels

Mom talking to daughter | Source: Pexels

But it was more than that; Paul was an incredible father, and he always ensured that Piper was taken care of first. It was one of the reasons that he was renovating the space outside, so that he could always be around for her.

The thought of Paul doing anything unsavory in front of our child was unheard of, and yet I still believed it.

A father and daughter duo | Source: Unsplash

A father and daughter duo | Source: Unsplash

But as I went about taking all the cookie ingredients out, I realized that I was justified in my feelings.

I reacted as any mother would. I reacted to the panic of my daughter, however misunderstood it now was.

I knew what I needed to do. I needed to explain it all to Piper; she needed to know that there was nothing wrong with Paul’s actions.

“Honey, do you know what Dad does for work?” I asked, trying to smooth over the confusion in her mind.

Baking ingredients | Source: Unsplash

Baking ingredients | Source: Unsplash

“Yes, he massages people, right?” she said, picking her way through the chocolate chips.

“So, the woman upstairs, she’s one of Dad’s clients,” I continued gently.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

I measured the flour as Piper helped herself to a glass of milk.

A container of chocolate chips | Source: Unsplash

A container of chocolate chips | Source: Unsplash

“But then, why was she screaming?” my daughter asked. “Was Dad hurting her? Isn’t a massage supposed to feel good? I know how you feel when Dad massages your feet.”

I stood beside her and gently bumped my hip to hers.

A person getting a foot massage | Source: Pexels

A person getting a foot massage | Source: Pexels

“Well, some massages are a bit more intense, honey. You can ask Dad when he’s done, and he can explain it to you. You know, once, Dad did an anticellulite massage for me; I screamed the entire time because it was so painful, but it helped me! If the woman was screaming, it wasn’t meant to hurt her beyond helping her heal.”

Piper looked at me for a moment and then nodded.

A person getting a massage | Source: Pexels

A person getting a massage | Source: Pexels

“Dad wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I said as I put the first batch of cookies into the oven.

“Why did Dad do it here?” she asked, her mind still racing.

“You can ask Dad, but maybe she just needed to see him today. And he wasn’t at his rooms, remember? He needed to pick you up from school.”

School parking lot | Source: Unsplash

School parking lot | Source: Unsplash

Piper looked down at the counter and added chocolate chips to her milk. Not that they would do anything to the flavor.

Finally, she seemed satisfied with all my answers.

I washed the dishes while the cookies baked. Piper told me all about her day at school and how much she loved her new art class.

A person using paint | Source: Unsplash

A person using paint | Source: Unsplash

“We can do whatever we want, Mom!” she said. “Like, today, we were told to paint something with the color blue. That was the theme, and we could do whatever we wanted within those lines.”

As the oven bell went off, I took the cookies out and left them for Piper.

Woman taking out cookies | Source: Pexels

Woman taking out cookies | Source: Pexels

I went back upstairs, ready to apologize to my husband and the woman once again. As I entered my bedroom, Paul was wrapping up and folding the towels. The client, now dressed, offered an awkward apology before leaving, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Once we were alone, I approached Paul, who was blowing off the candles with more force than necessary.

Lit candles | Source: Unsplash

Lit candles | Source: Unsplash

“Paul, I’m so sorry,” I began. “I thought the worst. I feared the worst. I fed off Piper’s energy because she didn’t know what was happening, so I was terrified at the panic in her voice.”

My husband stopped and looked at me, his expression softening.

“I saw the look on your face, Tammy,” he said. “I should have realized how this looked and warned you. I should have explained it to Piper, too. Cheryl is very loud when it comes to these things.”

Couple talking | Source: Pexels

Couple talking | Source: Pexels

“You need to talk to Piper,” I said. “I think she understands, but at the same time, it would make more sense coming from you. She’ll feel comforted.”

My husband enveloped me into a bear hug.

We held each other, the earlier adrenaline giving way to a shaky relief.

“Let’s just make sure we talk more, okay? I never want to feel that way again,” I murmured into his chest.

As we disconnected from the embrace, I felt the tension dissipate. We had stumbled, yes, but we had also found our way back to trust.

A couple embracing | Source: Pexels

A couple embracing | Source: Pexels

We went downstairs, and Paul took out a tub of vanilla ice cream to make ice cream sandwiches.

Paul was going to talk to Piper, and I was going to shower to give them some space.

I knew that he would make her understand everything properly.

Ice cream sandwiches | Source: Unsplash

Ice cream sandwiches | Source: Unsplash

What would you have done?

My MIL Called Me Ungrateful for Not Eating Food She Cooked While I Was on a Pre-Surgery Diet, and My Husband Backed Her Up

When Mel has surgery scheduled, she has no choice but to follow a strict diet in preparation. But one day, her mother-in-law shows up, ready to cook up a storm and disrespect Mel’s new regime. Soon, tempers flare…

My husband, Dave, and I have always had a solid relationship. Sure, like most couples, there are ups and downs, but we handle them pretty well in general.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

Except when it comes to his mom, Margaret.

Margaret has a knack for inserting herself into our lives, often under the pretense of being helpful. She’ll just drop by unannounced, often claiming to be worried about how I’m taking care of her son.

“Mel, it’s just my mom’s way of showing her love,” Dave would say, dismissing it all. “She’s always been so dramatic, and that’s just one of those things.”

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

But to me, it just felt invasive.

Recently, things took quite a turn for the worse. I have a chronic condition that requires surgery on my spine. As a result, my doctor has put me on a strict pre-surgery diet.

“It’s not going to be great, Mel,” he told me when I went for my last check-up. “But it’s necessary, I promise you. We need you to cut down on your body weight so that after the surgery, the stress on your spine will be less.”

A woman sitting at a doctor's office | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney

I understood the assignment, and I was committed to my health.

“Look, honey,” I told Dave when I went home after my appointment. “You don’t have to change your diet at all. I’ll still get you everything you want to eat, and cook what you want, too. But there’s a bunch of food that I have to avoid.”

A couple standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A couple standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“No,” my husband reassured me. “I’ll do it with you. Just put the list of forbidden items on the fridge, and I’ll know what to avoid.”

I had to admit, I was surprised by Dave. This man loved his fried food. The greasier the better when it came to my husband’s diet. But this change was good for both of us, and I loved that he was being supportive.

Notes on a fridge | Source: Midjourney

Notes on a fridge | Source: Midjourney

So, we began diligently avoiding sugar, limiting carbs, and eating lots of greens and lean proteins. It was quite a lifestyle change, because now I had to be strict about everything I put into my mouth. But I knew that it was going to be worth it in the end.

But then, Margaret turned up like a storm about the disrupt our peace.

Last weekend, as I was reading in our home office, Margaret showed up with bags full of groceries.

A person holding a grocery bag | Source: Midjourney

A person holding a grocery bag | Source: Midjourney

Without even asking, she started preparing Dave’s favorite meal: fried chicken, mashed potatoes drenched in butter, and a decadent chocolate cake.

“Do you need any help?” I asked her when I realized that she was about to cook up a storm.

“No, darling,” she said. “You go and relax; I’m fine here.”

An older woman cooking | Source: Midjourney

An older woman cooking | Source: Midjourney

So, I let her take over the kitchen. The aroma filled the house, and I felt my stomach rumble. But I knew that I couldn’t eat any of it. On one hand, I felt that Margaret was being inappropriate, but on the other hand, I was glad that Dave was getting some good food that he enjoyed.

When dinner was ready, I politely declined.

A plate of fried chicken | Source: Midjourney

A plate of fried chicken | Source: Midjourney

“I’m really sorry, Margaret,” I began while taking out my salad greens and leftover grilled chicken from the fridge.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at the food that I laid out on the counter, ready to make myself dinner.

“There’s more than enough food, Mel. You don’t need to make more,” she huffed.

A woman looking into a fridge | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking into a fridge | Source: Midjourney

“I’m just making my dinner,” I said slowly. “As incredible as your meal smells and looks, I can’t eat any of it. I’m on a strict diet for my surgery. I cannot afford to have any slip-ups.”

Instead of understanding the situation like any rational person, my mother-in-law’s face twisted in displeasure.

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, come on, Mel,” she said. “I worked really hard on this meal. Just a little won’t hurt.”

“I appreciate it, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and that you cooked this meal for Dave, but I just cannot risk it. This surgery is too important,” I insisted.

Cue the meltdown.

A close-up of an expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of an expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney

She started muttering under her breath about how ungrateful I was, making a big show of serving Dave a heaping plate of food. I felt a knot form in my stomach, not from hunger, but from the tension.

Then, she turned to Dave.

“Isn’t it a shame? I go through all this trouble, and she can’t even try a bite of it.”

A plate of food | Source: Midjourney

A plate of food | Source: Midjourney

I looked at my husband, expecting him to defend me. Instead, he shrugged and put a forkful of mashed potato into his mouth.

“Maybe just have a small bite, honey,” he said with his mouth full. “Just be polite. Have a piece of chicken and some mash.”

I couldn’t believe it. He was the person who didn’t mind changing up his diet and his routine because he wanted to support me. What was this? What was this change of behavior?

A man eating at the table | Source: Midjourney

A man eating at the table | Source: Midjourney

“Dave, you know I can’t. It’s not just about being polite. It’s about my health. You know I only have a few weeks to get ready.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed as she picked up a plate for herself.

“It’s just one meal, Melissa. I don’t see what the big deal is. Is that really how you speak to my son? And you’re making me feel like my food isn’t good enough for you.”

A close-up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s not it at all, Margaret,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m sure the food is delicious as always, but I need to be strict here. I cannot afford any setbacks. This is my spine we’re talking about!”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You’re just being overly dramatic. People have been eating real food like this for centuries without all these modern health scares.”

I could feel the heat rise in my blood. My anger was building, and so was my disappointment.

A close-up of an angry woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of an angry woman | Source: Midjourney

But before things could escalate further, the doorbell rang.

It was George, my father-in-law, dropping by to pick up some tools. He walked into the kitchen just as Margaret was going on about how I was “too good” for her cooking.

George surveyed the scene quickly and then looked directly at Margaret.

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

“Margaret, you know she’s on a diet for her surgery. This isn’t about politeness or niceties. It’s about Mel’s health. She has been trying to sort out her spine issues for years now, Marg, you know this,” he said. “You need to respect that.”

Margaret opened her mouth to argue, but George didn’t give her a chance.

“If you can’t respect their boundaries, maybe you should stop coming over unannounced.”

An older woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

An older woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

I was stunned.

George had never intervened in these situations before, and to see him take such a strong stance was both surprising and incredibly comforting.

Margaret stormed out of the dining room, clearly upset, but George stayed behind.

An upset woman storming out | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman storming out | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, gosh,” my husband muttered, putting his piece of chicken down as he pushed his chair back to run after his mother.

George turned to me with a kind smile.

“You did the right thing. Don’t worry about Margaret; she’ll come around,” he said. “Your health is so important.”

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

Dave came running back in, looking thoroughly chastened.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything or tried to force you to eat any of this. I just didn’t want to upset Mom, but I realize now that I should have supported you.”

George nodded approvingly.

A man sitting at a table and holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting at a table and holding his head | Source: Midjourney

“You’re right, Dave. This is your family, and you need to prioritize your wife’s well-being.”

“Please, you two carry on eating,” I said, returning to the kitchen. “I’m going to make some salad.”

A salad with grilled chicken on a counter | Source: Midjourney

A salad with grilled chicken on a counter | Source: Midjourney

While I was in the kitchen, I saw Margaret sitting on the bench outside. I could have gone to her, but I hated the way she had spoken to me.

Later, after the three of us had eaten, George took Margaret home.

An older woman outside | Source: Midjourney

An older woman outside | Source: Midjourney

As we got into bed, Dave apologized to me again and promised to be more supportive in the future.

It felt good to clear the air, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Before they left, Margaret had just walked past us, not even saying goodbye.

Anyway, I still had bigger things to worry about. My surgery was more important.

A couple sitting in bed together | Source: Midjourney

A couple sitting in bed together | Source: Midjourney

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