I stared at the numbers on my laptop screen, my stomach twisting into knots. My maternity leave was almost over, and no matter how I adjusted our budget, the cheapest daycare option was still too expensive.
“If only that place near the mall still had space,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.
“I still don’t understand why you want to waste money on daycare when I can watch this little angel for free,” Kelly, my mother-in-law, said from behind me.
I turned to see her gently rocking baby Lily in her arms, a warm smile on her face. “Those prices are ridiculous!”
My jaw tightened. From the moment my husband, Jordan, introduced us six years ago, Kelly had made it clear that no woman would ever be good enough for her son. She always had something to say about my cooking, the cleanliness of our home, and now, my parenting choices.
“I don’t know…” I hesitated.
Kelly tutted and gave me a pointed look. “It’s simple, Lauren. Just say ‘yes.'”
I looked at Lily, sleeping peacefully in Kelly’s arms, her tiny fingers curled into a fist. My heart squeezed.
“I’ll think about it, Kelly.”
That night, I discussed it with Jordan. He immediately thought it was a great idea.
“I know you two have had your differences,” he admitted. “But she raised me just fine, didn’t she? And it’s only temporary. You said the daycare might have an opening soon.”
I sighed. “Okay, fine. But she needs to follow our rules—no guests, no long phone calls, and definitely no afternoon glasses of wine.”
“I’ll make sure she understands,” Jordan promised, kissing my cheek. “Don’t worry, babe. Everything will be fine.”
And for the first week, it was.
Kelly sent me regular updates about Lily—how much she ate, how well she napped, and even little pictures of their park strolls. When I got home from work, dinner was waiting, and the house looked neater than I had left it.
Maybe this arrangement could work.
“Thank you so much, Kelly,” I told her sincerely that Friday. “This has taken a huge weight off our shoulders.”
Kelly smiled, her eyes never leaving Lily’s face. “Being a grandmother is the greatest joy of my life. I should be thanking you.”
But then, the nanny cam incident happened.
On Thursday evening, I walked into the house and immediately felt something was off. Kelly stood in the kitchen, wringing her hands.
“How was your day?” she asked, her voice a little too bright.
“Fine…” I set down my bag and studied her face. “Where’s Lily?”
“Napping in her crib.”
“Is everything okay?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh and pulled something from her pocket. “Actually, there was a little accident. I was dusting around the shelves, and this fell.”
She handed me the nanny cam. Its screen was completely shattered.
“I’m so sorry,” she continued. “I know how expensive these things are.”
I turned the device over in my hands. Kelly never touched electronics. She barely knew how to use her phone. And now, she had accidentally knocked over the one thing monitoring her?
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, forcing a neutral tone. “Accidents happen.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Of course not.”
That night, after Kelly left and Jordan went to bed, I connected the damaged nanny cam to my laptop. The screen was ruined, but the audio files were still intact.
I hesitated. Was I being paranoid? Maybe. But my gut told me something was wrong.
I clicked play.
At first, everything sounded normal—Kelly singing lullabies, Lily cooing, the soft creak of the rocking chair.
Then, the front door opened.
“Hello?” Kelly’s voice.
“It’s just me,” a man replied. A voice I didn’t recognize.
My heart pounded.
“You sure she won’t find out?” the man asked.
Kelly laughed. “Relax. She’s at work. We have hours.”
Footsteps. Cupboards opening. The clink of glasses.
“Wine?” Kelly offered.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Flirty giggles followed.
My stomach twisted. Kelly wasn’t just babysitting—she was using my house as her personal dating spot.
I snapped the laptop shut, my hands shaking. I couldn’t sleep that night. By morning, I had a plan.
“Have a good day at work!” Kelly chirped as I kissed Lily goodbye.
“You too,” I replied with a smile. “See you later.”
I left, but instead of heading to work, I parked a block away and waited. After thirty minutes, I crept back.
As I approached, I heard laughter inside. My blood boiled.
I unlocked the door and stepped in.
There they were. Kelly and a silver-haired man I’d never seen before, sitting at my dining table with two half-empty wine glasses.
“Where’s Lily?” I demanded.
Kelly jumped. “Lauren! What are you doing here?”
The man shifted in his seat. “Uh, I should go—”
“No, you should stay,” I said sharply. “I’d love to know why my mother-in-law is entertaining guests in my house instead of watching my child.”
A heavy silence filled the room. I could hear Lily fussing in the other room—probably had been for a while.
Kelly recovered first, crossing her arms. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Greg is a nice man from my church group!”
“I don’t care if he’s the Pope!” I snapped. “You’re ignoring my daughter for a date!”
“She’s in her crib, perfectly safe,” Kelly huffed.
I stormed into the nursery. Lily’s face was scrunched in discomfort. I checked her diaper—soaked.
I turned to Kelly, holding up the evidence. “Really? You call this ‘perfectly safe’?”
“Oh, I wasn’t ignoring her!”
“You’re done babysitting her.”
That evening, I told Jordan everything. His face darkened as he listened. Then, he called Kelly on speaker.
“Mom, what were you thinking?” he demanded. “Lauren told me everything.”
“Oh, I see,” Kelly said. “She’s turning you against me now.”
“I heard the recording myself,” Jordan said coldly.
“I was lonely!” Kelly protested. “Greg is just a friend!”
“And Lily was ignored. Her diaper was soaked while you drank wine with a stranger.”
“You’re overreacting! If your wife stayed home like she’s supposed to—”
“Don’t,” Jordan warned. “You crossed a line. We’re finding other childcare.”
“You can’t mean that!” Kelly cried. “She’s my granddaughter!”
“And she’s our daughter,” Jordan replied, hanging up.
Then, he called a locksmith.
“Just to be safe,” he said as the locks were changed.
That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. “Do you think we did the right thing?”
Jordan squeezed my hand. “Yes. My mom thought she could treat our house like a social club. She was wrong.”
I let out a breath, finally feeling at peace.
We’d figure out childcare. But one thing was certain—no amount of free babysitting was worth our daughter’s safety or our peace of mind.
