Everything was set for our long-awaited Aruba vacation until my passport disappeared the morning of our departure. But when my MIL Everything was set for our long-awaited Aruba vacation until my passport disappeared the morning of our departure. When my MIL calmly stated, “Maybe you weren’t meant to go,” I knew it wasn’t an accident. But how can I convince my husband?

I nearly missed Aruba.

Not because I was unwell or missed my flight, but intentionally. Someone told me not to go.

Let me start again.

Caleb and I had been planning a family vacation to Aruba with our seven-year-old daughter Lily for about a year. We hadn’t taken a vacation since Lily was in diapers due to my busy nursing career, Caleb’s long hours at his law practice, and the craziness of parenting.

We were going to have seven days of turquoise seas, sand between our toes, and no obligations. I counted minutes.

Caleb’s mother Barbara threw a curveball.

Barbara, single and dramatic, terminated her sixth romance in six years. Two weeks before we left, she phoned Caleb with a distinctive sigh.

“I’ve been thinking, sweetheart,” she said, sugary. “Maybe I could join you. I haven’t traveled in a while, and I I don’t want to be alone when everyone makes memories.”

She was doing precisely what I expected.

Barbara often entered our lives at awkward moments. If I declined, I’d be the villain. The indifferent daughter-in-law who ignored the lonely widow.

So I bit my tongue and said Caleb, “Sure. She can come.”

I believed I could handle a few forced discussions and eye-rolling remarks to have my beach getaway.

I misjudged Barbara. Severely.

I checked my mental checklist for the tenth time the night before the trip: sunscreen, flip-flops, swimwear, passports.

I put mine, Caleb’s, and Lily’s in a navy-blue travel organizer on the kitchen counter next to our carry-ons.

We were set.

Barbara stayed the night so we could depart together in the morning. “Less fuss,” she remarked. I looked for positives. An airport stop may be cut.

While setting out Lily’s clothing around 10:30, I heard Barbara in the hallway.

“Caleb, honey, can you help me use the guest room speaker? This is quite elegant. Never understand how they work.”

An Echo Dot was the “fancy speaker”. Saying, “Alexa, turn on the fan,” works.

But Barbara wasn’t present for tech class. Her role was damsel-in-distress. She attracted Caleb’s attention. I noticed her beaming at him like a prom-goer.

Caleb, the nice son, taught how to adjust the thermostat and switch on white noise. I remained mute. I’d had this chat with him before — the one about how Barbara manipulates events to center herself.

He never saw it.

Caleb woke me up at 5:15 a.m. the following day.

Are you ready, Jules? Airport shuttle in an hour.”

I leaped up, humming with that pre-flight enthusiasm. Nothing was wrong until it was.

I took the travel folder.

Two passports.

Mine was gone.

I blinked.

Then I looked again.

Emptied the folder. I checked the counter. Drawers. The rubbish. I ripped up Lily’s bag in a rage, thinking she took it out while playing.

Nothing.

Heart fell to stomach.

“Caleb!” I gasped and shouted out. “My passport disappeared!”

He ran in, drowsy. “What? That’s absurd. You had it yesterday night.”

Yes, I did. It was highest.”

We searched everywhere. The bedroom laundry basket beneath the fridge. With less than an hour to depart, I felt tense.

Barbara arrived at the top of the stairs calmly, keeping her silk robe closed like a soap opera character.

Oh my, she muttered, blinking slowly. “Something wrong?”

“My passport’s missing,” I said. “I packed last night. It’s gone.”

Barb inclined her head, hardly concealing a grin. “Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you weren’t supposed to go.”

I was chilled by her easy, planned delivery.

She did it.

But I had no evidence. I knew Caleb would be defensive, bewildered, and attempting to preserve the peace if I accused her without it.

Swallowed the knot in my throat and grinned.

“You and Lily should go,” I replied. “I’ll figure it out here.”

Caleb paused. Julia, I don’t want to leave you—

It’s fine. Waiting means missing the flight. “Just go.”

Barbara grabbed his shoulder and turned to him. “She’s right, darling. We can’t hurt Lily.”

Naturally, she was eager. Her idea succeeded, she thought.

After they left, I breathed deeply and looked in the guest room.

It was my sole unsearched area.

I started with the closet, then the drawers. Nothing. I sat on the bed trying to think like her. She’d conceal something where? Where could she be sure I wouldn’t look?

My gaze fell on a nightstand full of Better Homes and Gardens magazines. They seemed too perfect.

Lifted them.

My passport was in a Ziplock bag under the stack.

My hands shook. Bitterly chuckling, I stood up. I knew. This time, I had physical proof that Barbara sabotaged me.

Still, not enough. Caleb, no. He’d merely ask how I knew she’d placed it there. Maybe she discovered it and didn’t know where to put it. Maybe Lily concealed it. Excuses.

I recalled something then.

Echo Dot.

Barbara spent over 20 minutes “learning” how to use it last night.

I grabbed my phone and opened Alexa.

It existed. A voice command history and, lucky me, an 11:12 p.m. recording.

Barbara says, “She doesn’t deserve that vacation. Maybe she shouldn’t come if she can’t find her passport. Natie can finally unwind.”

My pulse was racing as I stared at my phone. I had her. Motivation, not simply action.

I phoned the airline. Luckily, one seat remained on the following flight. I booked immediately.

I didn’t text Caleb when I arrived in Aruba before sundown. I wanted to see Barbara celebrating her win. I wanted her face when I arrived.

White beach, palm palms swinging in the air, and waves crashing were magnificent at the resort.

I reserved a suite down the hall from Caleb’s at the front desk. I waited.

I expected them at the seashore restaurant for 7 p.m. supper.

As dessert platters came, I stepped up.

Lily saw me first.

“MOMMY!” she shouted, running into my arms.

Caleb stood, dumbfounded. “Jules?! You survived?

Glass-cracking grin from Barbara.

I kissed Lily’s forehead and whispered, “I found my passport.” “Right where it was hidden.”

Barbara became pallid.

“Under magazines. In the guest room. In a Ziplock.”

Caleb frowned at her.

“Mom?”

Her lips opened to grab her wine glass. “That’s ridiculous. I never—

I grabbed my phone.

“Ask Alexa.”

I pressed play. Voice of Barbara permeated the air.

It seems Caleb was struck in the stomach.

“How could you, Mom?”

Barbara stood slow. “She poisons you against me. I was attempting to protect you.”

“By sabotaging my wife?” Caleb said. You need aid.”

Barbara remained silent. She grabbed her purse and left, heels clicking against the tile like punctuation marks in the silence.

Caleb and I watched the waves from the balcony after Lily fell asleep in our suite.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. It was new to me. But now I do.”

“I don’t want to fight your mother,” I said. “But I won’t keep defending myself against someone who wants me gone.”

He nodded. We don’t want her if she treats you like this.

When we came home, Barbara attempted damage control—flowers, tears, voicemails. When nothing worked, the mask fell off.

“You’ve always controlled him!” she shouted through the screen door one day. “You turned him against me!”

I shut the door silently.

I scheduled a weekend spa trip a month later. Ocean vistas. Arrival champagne. No drama.

Poetically paid for with the flight reimbursement she attempted to take from me.