I Came Home to Find My Son’s New Girlfriend Cooking in My Kitchen — I Shockingly Recognized Her

After starting a new job, Mrs. Rodgers is stunned to find her son’s girlfriend, Isabel, cooking in her kitchen. Isabel, who had cruelly rejected her during a previous job interview, now pretends to be sweet, but the tension is palpable, and conflict brews beneath the surface.

Let me tell you about the day my world turned upside down.

A serious and thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

Firstly, you should know that I’ve been a chef for over thirty years. I used to have a great job, but it came to a fiery end when the building burned down. Fortunately, nobody suffered any injuries, but the restaurant never reopened, leaving all of us without jobs.

I was forced to look for a new job at fifty-five, and it wasn’t easy. Searching for a job is never fun, but last month I had the worst interview I’ve experienced in my life.

A sad woman | Source: Pexels

I was all set to meet Isabel, the manager of a health-conscious eatery. This place was all about its organic ingredients and boasted about its vegan and Paleo-friendly menu options.

I was excited to work with such an interesting menu and walked into the office with a big smile. My grin quickly faded when I saw the woman at the desk scan me from head to toe with a look of barely disguised disdain.

“Isabel?” I approached the desk and held out my hand. “I’m Mrs. Rodgers. It’s nice to meet you.”

A woman at a desk peering down her nose | Source: Pexels

“No.” She shook her head and pulled a face. “We have a big, open kitchen that allows customers to see their food being prepared. You are way too old and fat to work here. It would reflect badly on our establishment to have someone who looks like you preparing our food.”

I was stunned. I just stood there, staring at her.

“Hello?” She waved at me. “The interview’s over. You can go.”

Woman sitting at a desk grimacing | Source: Pexels

I walked out of there feeling like trash. The restaurant industry is fast-paced and most people working in it tend to be blunt, but this was downright disrespectful!

Luckily, I landed a job soon afterward at a popular steakhouse. It’s demanding, and I love it! The food is nothing fancy, but the place is always busy and the pay is great.

The job was a godsend, but I never forgot the sting of that arrogant little manager’s attitude. Little did I know that one day, I’d get the chance to teach her a lesson she’d never forget!

A serious woman | Source: Pexels

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, I came home to an unexpected sight. There, in my kitchen, was Isabel, the very same girl from the interview. She was stirring a pot on my stove, looking annoyingly at ease.

“What are you doing in my kitchen?” I snapped at her.

She jumped and screwed up her face as she looked at me. “I know you…”

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t even remember kicking me out of that interview last month before I could even discuss my work.” I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

But then my son Alex walked in, grinning ear to ear. “Mom! I thought I heard you! Sorry if she surprised you, but let me introduce you to Isabel, my girlfriend!”

I was trying to digest the information when Isabel bounded over and hugged me, her smile as fake as her sincerity.

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“It’s SO nice to meet you, Mrs. Rodgers!” she gushed, then leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Let’s forget what happened last month.”

I was tempted to drag her across the coals right then and there, but then I thought better of it. Instead, I smirked and hugged her tighter than necessary.

“Sure, dear,” I said, my mind already spinning with the implications of her dating my son. Alex was generally a good judge of character, so I decided to give Isabel a chance.

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Over the next few weeks, Isabel showed her true colors. She had this way of being sugary sweet to Alex while making snide remarks about my age and weight when he wasn’t around.

One day, as I was scrubbing the kitchen floor, she “accidentally” spilled a glass of juice, watching me with a smirk as I cleaned up the mess.

“Oops, sorry Mrs. Rodgers. I guess I’m just a bit clumsy.”

“No problem, Isabel,” I said, forcing a smile, but inside I was seething.

Spilled liquid | Source: Pexels

Her behavior escalated from there. One afternoon, I was baking cookies for a charity event, humming to myself in the kitchen. I reached for the sugar, only to realize, too late, that Isabel had swapped it with salt.

The batch was ruined. Isabel walked in just as I discovered the mistake, her face a mask of mock innocence.

“Oh dear, did I mix those up?” she said, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Rodgers.”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s alright, mistakes happen.”

Two women in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

Then there was the dinner incident. Isabel decided to make a special meal for Alex and me. As we sat down, she placed a steaming bowl of chili con carne in front of me. I took one bite and felt the fire spread through my mouth.

I gasped, reaching for my water glass, tears streaming down my face.

Isabel feigned concern, her eyes glinting with malice. “Oh no, Mrs. Rodgers! Did I put too much chili in? I’m so sorry!”

I forced a smile through the pain. “It’s fine, Isabel. Really.”

A bowl of chili con carne | Source: Pexels

Her cruelty knew no bounds, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my frustration from Alex. I just knew that one day, all the biting remarks I’d held back to preserve the peace would explode out of me.

I decided it was time to teach Isabel a lesson. But I had to be strategic about it. Losing my temper wouldn’t do any good.

I proposed a special family dinner, suggesting that Isabel help me prepare it.

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She agreed, probably thinking it was another opportunity to undermine me. Little did she know, I had something else in mind.

We started in the kitchen, the air thick with tension. Isabel chopped the vegetables while I browned the meat. We finished preparing the meal, and I called Alex.

He came in, oblivious to the undercurrents of hostility. “This smells amazing, Mom! You too, Isabel.”

“Thank you, Alex,” we both said in unison.

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

I asked Isabel to help Alex set the table while I dished up our plates. The moment her back was turned, I added a heavy dose of chili to Isabel’s portion.

We sat down to eat, the three of us. Isabel dug into her stew with enthusiasm, her arrogance making her blind to my careful machinations. I watched her closely, waiting for the moment the spice would hit.

It didn’t take long.

A plate of beef stew | Source: Pexels

Her face turned bright red, and she began to sweat. She reached for her water glass with trembling hands.

“Is everything alright, Isabel?” I asked, feigning concern.

She nodded, but her eyes were watering. “Just… a bit hot, that’s all.”

Alex looked puzzled. “You okay, babe? You look really flushed.”

Isabel forced a smile, her voice strained. “I’m fine, Alex. The stew’s just a little spicier than I’m used to.”

A woman looking doubtfully at her meal | Source: Pexels

I hid my smirk behind my napkin. “I’m so sorry, Isabel. I hope it’s not too much for you. I tried to make it mild.”

Isabel excused herself to the bathroom, practically running from the table. Alex looked at me, concern etched on his face. “Mom, do you think she’s okay?”

I patted his hand. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, dear. Sometimes spice can just catch you off guard.”

She returned a few minutes later, pale and shaky but determined to keep up appearances. I watched her closely, satisfaction blooming in my chest.

A woman with a coy smile | Source: Pexels

After dinner, Alex went to the living room to watch TV. I seized the moment and pulled Isabel aside into the kitchen.

“Isabel, we need to talk,” I said calmly.

She glared at me, still red-faced and angry. “What did you do to me?” she demanded.

I smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of my lips. “Oh, nothing much. Just added a little extra spice to your meal. You see, Isabel, I know every trick in the book. Remember that the next time you think about crossing me.”

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She was speechless, her face a mix of anger and fear. “You—”

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Isabel, it’s important to respect others, especially in their own home. You may think you’re clever, but rudeness and spitefulness have consequences.”

Her anger flared again. “You had no right—”

“Now,” I continued, ignoring her outburst, “if you want to stay in this house and be part of this family, you’ll need to show some respect. Otherwise, you can leave and never come back.”

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Isabel stared at me, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. She nodded stiffly and walked away.

From that day forward, Isabel’s behavior towards me improved. She was more respectful, and her snide remarks and petty actions disappearing entirely. She even started helping around the house without being asked.

I made sure Alex remained unaware of the true events, maintaining the harmony in our home. The dynamics of our relationship shifted positively, and for the first time, I felt a sense of peace.

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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.