A sinking feeling overwhelmed me as I realized Donna had been sabotaging my cooking to discredit me. Opting against immediate confrontation, I chose a different approach.
“Eva, can you come here?” I beckoned my daughter aside, her curiosity piqued.
“What is it, Mom?” she inquired.
“I need your assistance with a little act. Can you keep up the charade?” I knelt to her level, conspiratorially.
Confused, Eva agreed, “What’s the plan?”
I explained, keeping it simple, “I saw Grandma add citric acid to the pasta. She’s been tampering with my meals to make me look incompetent. We’re going to expose her during dinner.”
Eva, wide-eyed, consented, “Okay, Mom. I’m with you.”
As dinner commenced, and the pasta was served, Eva initiated our plan. “Mom, this pasta tastes unusually sour,” she announced loudly enough for all to hear.
Feigning distress, I clutched my throat, gasping, “Oh no, call an ambulance!”
I slumped back, pretending to faint, causing immediate commotion. Simon rushed to my side, panic-stricken. “Natasha, stay with me! Call 911!”
The guests scrambled, bewildered and concerned.
“What’s happened? Why is she choking?” Simon’s voice cracked with emotion.
Eva, sticking to the script, added, “Dad, there’s citric acid in the pasta. Mom’s allergic. But how did it get there? Mom never uses it.”
All eyes turned to Donna, her complexion turning ghostly pale. Caught, she faltered, “I… I just wanted to…”
Simon’s voice rose in anger, “You did this? Why?”
Tears welled up in Donna’s eyes, “I’m sorry, Simon. I thought I was teaching her a lesson.”
Choosing this moment, I “awoke,” feigning confusion. “What happened?”
Eva chimed in, “Grandma put citric acid in the pasta to teach Mom a lesson.”
Silence enveloped the room. Donna, overwhelmed by guilt, apologized, “I’m so sorry, Natasha. I never meant to harm you.”
I responded, “Donna, I’ve tried to fit into this family. What you did was not only dangerous but cruel. We need to establish some boundaries.”
Simon supported this, “Mom, this behavior is unacceptable. Apologize and make it right.”
Donna nodded, remorseful, “I understand. I promise to do better.”
As the evening settled and the guests departed, Donna’s actions had been brought to light, strengthening our family unit. Though not a perfect resolution, it marked a beginning towards healing and mutual respect.
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