My MIL’s Old Recipe Book Revealed a Horrible Secret That Shattered Our Family

Lila adores her mother-in-law's cooking, and constantly wants to learn Margot's culinary secrets. But when Margot takes a stand at giving Lila a recipe, she finds that there's a lot more cooking than just the food...

I've always looked up to my mother-in-law, Margot, for many reasons, of course. But mainly because her culinary skills were something else. She had this way of making even the simplest dishes taste like they were sent down from the heavens themselves.

Since Alex and I got married, Margot was always the one who cooked whenever we had any family gatherings. But recently, I've had the urge to learn from her. My husband's favorite dish was Margot's roast chicken with a secret herb blend that would make you believe in magic.

That was the first thing I wanted to learn from Margot.

Our wedding anniversary was approaching, and I thought that doing a romantic dinner at home would be the best gift.

So, I approached Margot with my best daughter-in-law smile, along with a box of donuts that she loved. I just hoped that she'd let me in on the secret. It was for Alex, after all.

But her reaction was not what I expected.

"I'm sorry, Lila," she said. "But some things are meant to stay in the family, okay, dear?"

She gave me a small smile, but there was a mixture of firmness and something else I couldn't place. Naturally, I was taken aback, but I decided not to push it.

Two weeks later, Margot and Frank were going out of town for Frank to have his cataracts removed.

"Lila, will you feed Joey, our cat?" Margot asked me the day before they left. "We'll be gone for a week."

One day after work, I went over to my in-laws' house. I played with Joey, bribing him with treats, and found myself on a cleaning spree in Margot's kitchen. Putting her spice bottles away in the pantry, I stumbled upon an old, leather-bound book.

Margot's recipe book.

Curiosity got the better of me — I wanted that recipe.

Instead of a carefully indexed guide to Margot's recipes, like her pantry — the book was covered in notes and scribbles in the margins that seemed harmless at first glance.

Yet, the more I read, the more I realized they were anything but simple, harmless fun.

They seemed to be coded messages talking about secret meetings and hidden affections. Was this how my in-laws flirted? At first, I thought it was the cutest little thing — that they still showed affection for each other in such a romantic way.

But then things started to get a bit more cryptic.

I poured myself a glass of orange juice and continued to look through the book. I knew Margot's handwriting, so it was easy to decipher that. But then, I realized that the other messages were signed off by someone named "Blue Comet" — a name that just kept popping up.

Who on earth was "Blue Comet"? I wondered.

And then a family dinner conversation clicked into place. Alex had once told me a story about his Uncle John, Frank's brother. He was nicknamed the "Blue Comet" for his flashy blue car.

Uncle John!

He lived in my in-law's guesthouse, but he and Joey didn't get along, so he wasn't bothered about feeding the cat.

Then, the puzzle pieces started falling into place. It appeared that Margot and John, her brother-in-law, had been having an affair for years — hiding it right under everyone's noses.

I went home that evening wondering whether I should tell Alex about my discovery or not.

How could I? It would destroy him to know. But also, how could I not tell him? He loved and admired his father more than anything — if he found out that Margot had been unfaithful to him for so long, it would destroy him.

"Lila, what's wrong?" Alex asked when I got home, Chinese food in hand.

"Nothing," I mumbled. "I just had a long day."

Alex and I ate dinner in front of the TV — he didn't have any more questions, so I was left to my thoughts.

While driving home, I decided that I would keep Margot's secret until she returned. There was no point hurting Alex before anything was confirmed.

The day Margot returned, I went over to my in-law's house, ready to confront Margot.

"Tell me everything," I said when her eyebrows rose to meet her hairline.

Her admission came with tears and stories of a love that had spanned years— kept alive through messages hidden in a recipe book.

"So, it's John, isn't it?" I asked.

My mother-in-law's tears welled up in her eyes again as she nodded, her voice breaking.

"Yes, it's been John all these years. We thought we were careful, but love, Lila. Love finds a way, doesn't it?"

Her confession was a mix of sorrow and relief.

"Why didn't you tell Frank the truth?" I asked. "And Alex?"

Margot continued to slice into an apple in silence for a moment.

"I couldn't risk breaking up our family," she said. "And what about Alex? I don't think I could have handled telling him the truth."

"But Frank lives a few feet away," I said.

"I know," she admitted. "So close but so far."

"Don't you want to just be happy?" I asked. "To live with John?"

Margot smiled at me.

"I've got to get dinner going," she said. "It's curry night."

I went home thinking that maybe I had finally gotten through to Margot. Of course, I didn't want to break up the family dynamic. And the thought of Alex getting caught up in the crossfire filled me with guilt.

But the thought of Margot and John living so close to each other, but being worlds apart — their love story surviving in the pages of an old recipe book filled me with a deep sadness.

I lay in bed trying to understand why Margot would keep such a love hidden for so long.

But soon after, the truth came out, and the family was thrown into a tumult of emotions. Frank found a letter from Margot, sitting on the kitchen table — it was a confession of decades of love and betrayal.

I have to try and pursue happiness with John, she wrote. We're not getting any younger, Frank. We all deserve to be happy. I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused.

Frank was devastated, his world turned upside down in moments. But it was Alex who stepped in to bridge the gap.

"Dad, we're here for you. We'll get through this together," he said.

My husband was angry and hurt, as I had expected, but in bed one night he admitted his truth.

"I always suspected that something was going on," he said. "Mom's eyes always shined when Uncle John entered a room. She and my dad have always been good together, but they've been friends. With John, it was always different."

I asked him how he really felt, and he sighed deeply.

"I'm worried about my dad," he said. "This is heartbreaking for him. And I feel betrayed that my mother kept it hidden for so long. But there's a part of me that's happy that she chose herself."

A few days later, we welcomed Frank into our home.

"Just for a few weeks," Alex said. "He needs us."

Frank became another pillar in our home — he was devastated, but he was also coming to terms with the reality of the situation.

"Lila," he told me as I made him waffles one morning. "This was the shake-up that I needed. I'm going to go out with my friends. I'm going to do things. I'm going to live!"

I was proud of him for trying to get out of his comfort zone and to try new things.

"I'm going bowling with some of the guys tonight," he said. "You and Alex are more than welcome to join."

Then, to add to everything — a few weeks later, John and Margot showed up at my home. My mother-in-law carried a large chocolate cake and she had a notebook tucked beneath her arm.

"Here you go," she said, handing me the book. "All my recipes, without the love notes."

The three of us sat and ate cake. We spoke about Frank and Alex — with Margot saying that she was just going to give them a bit of space.

But even now, as I sit and think about the entire episode — I am torn between feeling happy and content for my mother-in-law, and feeling guilty that I unraveled this change of events.

This evening, we had our first family dinner in months — Margot and John were there, and so was Frank, with his new friend, Linda.

"Here's to new beginnings," Alex toasted, as we sat down to dinner. The aroma of roast chicken taking over the room — my first successful attempt at recreating the recipe.

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