My mother-in-law wore a white lace dress and hugged my husband like the bride. I ignored it. At my BIL’s wedding years later, she pledged not to repeat the stunt but wore the same dress! A savvy photographer discovered her deception and subverted her.

Only a meticulously cropped and altered photo of my husband and me standing before the chapel remains from my wedding.

All other photographs are on a flash drive in a nested folder, so I never inadvertently find them.

Please understand: I love my husband, Jeff, and our wedding was lovely.

Without Linda, my MIL, my wedding would have been perfect.

My mother-in-law arrived late to the chapel entry, but she made a magnificent entrance like a Hollywood red carpet just as the summer season was beginning to fade.

Wearing a floor-length white lace dress.

Not vanilla or “coastal chic.” It was bridal white.

It yelled “Notice me” to everyone within three miles.

It works. That girl stole the show.

Wider eyes and cameras appeared. Gasps, whispers, and laughter filled the chapel.

Someone might pull her aside and say something about wedding clothing.

But no.

As the initial shock subsided, people grinned uncomfortably. Like they were unable to look away from a slow-motion train accident.

In my wedding dress, I watched this mother who reared my husband decide that my day was also hers.

The ground seemed to dissolve beneath me.

Before taking her front-row spot, she stalked the aisle like a bride.

Jeff’s eyes reflected my dismay and an unnerving resignation.

Behind me, my maid of honor said, “Is she for real right now?”

Jeff murmured, “Just breathe.” Still your day, love; our day. Stop her from taking it.”

So I inhaled and nodded at Jeff.

“Don’t let her steal it” was my daily mantra.

I kept saying that as Linda clung to Jeff like a barnacle for photos and glided around the reception like a crowned monarch.

I was supposed to shine, but Linda made me feel like a gatecrasher sneaking free champagne.

I overlooked it. At least attempted.

I had a professional remove Linda from the mantel photo and hide the others.

It helped that Jeff and I moved across the state soon after our vows.

We still had big family gatherings, but a four-hour journey to Linda helped keep things peaceful.

However, letting things slip might sting you in the same white lace gown.

Years passed, and life continued.

Finally, Dylan, my nice brother-in-law, proposed to his fiancée. Sarah is humorous and friendly, remembering your birthday, bringing handmade brownies to family dinners, and making everyone feel welcome.

When I received the news, I felt I had to warn her.

We drove in for a weekend to visit Sarah and Dylan before the wedding. During cake tasting, I grabbed Sarah away.

“Hey… Watch Linda, I whispered. “Don’t be surprised if she wears white.”

Sarah laughed.

“Don’t worry. Dylan told me about your wedding, so I asked Linda about the clothing code. She swore to keep it low,” Sarah winked.

A sigh of relief. Maybe Linda learned from my wedding. Maybe someone told her about her stunt. I hope she wears navy or purple this time.

Spoiler: she didn’t.

The ceremony had scarcely began when we heard heels clacking on the garden path.

I looked at Jeff. The sole absent guest was Linda. He called Linda before Sarah walked down the aisle, and Linda stated she was stuck in traffic.

She had to be! I turned and gasped at her dress.

Linda wore my wedding white lace dress!

She just wore a red sash around her waist, as if that changed it.

One more thing. With thick red lipstick, she looked like a movie star.

Is it real? Whispered to Jeff. Or am I having a trauma flashback?

Someone whispered behind me, “Isn’t she chilly in that thing?”

“Julie, she wore that to your wedding?” another murmured.

I nodded, seeing Sarah’s expression sink at Linda. The bride looked like she wanted to disappear in her gorgeous gown.

Because I understood her pain, my heart broke for her.

Linda wrapped herself around the groom like ivy after the vows.

She laughed too loudly, joined every conversation, and pretended to be the “star of this wedding.”

The photos followed. We didn’t see it coming, but Linda was about to face truth after years of denial.

Linda photobombed every group photo the photographer took!

Before the photographer waved to catch everyone’s attention, I was thinking about telling Sarah the editor who erased Linda from my wedding photo.

“Just the bride and groom, please.”

Everyone except Linda retreated.

She smiled smugly and reached for Dylan’s hand again.

But the photographer kept going.

Not you, ma’am. Bride and groom only. “Are you the bride?”

She froze. Excuse me? No! Being his mother.”

“Oh.” Photographer tilted head with innocent uncertainty that sliced like a razor. “I was confused since you were wearing a white bridal gown and holding the groom’s hand all day.”

It was the best comeback ever! Silence fell over the crowd like a cake.

It was short-lived.

One laughed, then another. A groomsman’s snort-laugh got everyone laughing.

Linda went crimson like her lipstick. Her jaw tightened.

She hissed, “I’m the mother. Choose what to wear. My status as the most significant woman here makes everyone jealous!

The illusion was broken.

People looked at Linda sideways.

Sarah remained silent, lips pursed.

Dylan then made an audacious move that left me gasping.

Looking Linda in the eye, he pulled Sarah close with his arm.

Linda gasped.

She then proceeded to stomp across the lawn in stilettos, ranting about “disrespect” and “how dare he speak to me like that.”

“Well,” the photographer said, “that’s a first.”

The photographer returned to Dylan and Sarah.

He took images of simply the bride and groom, beaming in the spotlight, without a photobomb, ego, or drama in white. I couldn’t help but smile.

I was nearby when Linda’s sister and aunt met her at the buffet.

“A white dress again?” Linda’s sister said. “‘Really?’

“Two weddings, same stunt?” Linda’s aunt sighed. “When will you learn, Linny?”

Then Linda snapped.

She tossed her locks, flung her purse over her shoulder, and snapped, “I don’t have to stay where I’m not valued!”

She swung around and roared out in lace, perfume, and ego.

Did she just…? Sarah started.

“Yes,” I answered. “She left her son’s wedding because someone called her out for wearing white.”

The rest of the wedding went smoothly.

Weeks later, Sarah video-called to tell me the wedding photos came.

“You know what?” Sarah said, viewing the images. “I think this turned out better than I might have imagined.”

As for Linda?

We wondered what she might wear to the next family wedding. I’m betting on white again because some people never change.