Lucky Me, I Have Three Mothers-in-Law

With three mothers-in-law, how lucky can a man get.

Only a handful of regular season games remained now. According to the veterans, the end of the season was normally the busiest time of year, with postponed games piling up in droves — but not this year. The schedule had already been compressed because of the pandemic, and adding a flood of make-up games on top of that would have been physically impossible to absorb.

So the league office had thrown home/away designations out the window, cramming games into domed stadiums wherever possible, minimizing rainouts, and if worst came to worst, forcing a decision through a mercy-rule game. Thanks to that, the number of postponed games was genuinely down to a precious few.

The Seoul Twins, whose home park was a dome in the first place, reportedly had exactly four extra games to make up — and the veterans were even saying they wished every season worked this way.

Of course, playing a season like that meant grinding through that hellish schedule with almost no days off, so everyone quickly changed their tune.

Anyway, the season was winding down and the standings had more or less solidified. Unless someone strung together an absolutely absurd losing or winning streak, the rankings weren't going anywhere.

Naturally, there'd been talk after we recently stumbled that we might drop to fourth place — except the Giants sitting in fourth happened to be slumping at exactly the same time.

On top of that, the fifth-place Bears were on such a terrifying hot streak that people were instead asking whether we'd be the ones getting leapfrogged.

But whatever anyone said, the standings hadn't budged since August.

"Which is why I plan to give the bench players as many opportunities as possible in the remaining games."

And so, in this very moment, Manager Jeong Jin-haeng was finally acting on his rotating-door instincts.

The starters responded to that announcement with a mixture of relief and bewilderment.

"The bench? Do we even have anyone who can play...?"

"Coach, during the season it was 'no one to sub in, so just gut it out,' and now this?"

"I feel a little bad saying this about the juniors, but... they're going to need a LOT of prep work."

Hard to blame them. Of course the starters wanted rest too. In a situation where the Seoul Twins leaned this heavily on their core players, when had any of them been able to take a day off mid-season? Unless they were genuinely hurt, they played through everything.

Some, like Sang-gu hyung, had gotten injured and been written off entirely, and leaving aside the catcher spot — where Baek Joo-seon sunbae and Minsu hyung split duty down the middle — every starting position player was wheezing from pure exhaustion by now.

And now, at this late date, he wanted to bring in the subs? Never mind that they lacked the skill to make the first team in the first place — most of them had barely any first-team experience to speak of, so nobody held out much hope.

So the starters were thinking: the standings might be half-settled, but they weren't locked in, and if we tank our way into some ridiculous losing streak, the rankings could flip. Is that really okay?

But even against the starters' perfectly reasonable objections, the manager stood unmoved.

"It's time for us to prepare for autumn. The playoffs, the Southern Series — all the way to the Korean Series! You may not believe in yourselves yet, but I've seen plenty of potential."

His argument: grinding out the rest of the season at full strength wouldn't change the standings anyway, and running the exhausted players into the ground would only keep them from performing in the playoffs.

Honestly, even from where I stood, it looked like the kind of move that would go down in history as a legendary boneheaded blunder if we rested too early while the standings were still up for grabs and blew our position. Risking that for the sake of the future seemed a little reckless.

"Yi-seon, I know how you feel. You want to chase twenty wins, don't you? If we tweak the rotation a little and win out the rest of the way, it's not impossible."

"No, that's not really—"

"But this time, do it for the bigger stage and listen to your manager. From today, you and Min-hyuk are on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mandatory rest. This is your first season out of high school, and you two have done more than enough."

"That's really not what I was—"

"And I'm sorry, but there's one thing I'd like to ask of you. When the playoffs come around, you and Min-hyuk will be our one-two punch in the rotation. I'd love to send veterans with solid resumes like Hyun-seok or the foreign arms out there as our opener, but the rotation math just doesn't work unless I lean on you two."

"Would you let me finish a sent—"

"Don't think of this rest as simply time off. Think of it as a preparation strategy for the Twins' first postseason in three years. Don't sulk about it — just devote yourself to recovery."

Nope. Not happening. There was no conversing with this man. He was completely off in his own little world.

Judgments made by people this buried in their own heads are never sound. If we actually stumbled down the stretch and missed the postseason because of this, what then?

"Besides, aren't you away from your pregnant wife too much as it is? She may say it's fine now, but 'my husband was never around' is a classic entry in the grievance repertoire later on. Parents during the holidays, a kid buried in exam prep — those are the big three. Watch yourself."

"Yes, sir!"

And just like that, I completely reversed my opinion, thanks to the manager's sage advice.

Right — come on, would we really collapse into a ten-game losing streak? As long as we avoided that, third place was practically a lock.

For someone in my position — who had to keep a pregnant woman and a college exam student happy at the same time — rest was a gift. I accepted the manager's proposal with my whole heart.

"In any case, both of you are moving down to the second team for the next two weeks. In exchange, Ye-han and Ho-yeol slot into the starting rotation, and if Hyun-seok wants rest too, have him ready by the Series. Team training is waived for those two weeks as well — devote yourselves entirely to recovery work and rest. Dismissed!"

And so I accepted the two-week final rest period before the playoffs began and headed home with a spring in my step.

That villa I'd originally rented on the spur of the moment because I wanted to live near my dorm — which had somehow, before I knew it, become an honest-to-goodness newlywed home.

All I had to do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now was lounge around with the women I loved until autumn baseball rolled around.

Part of me even felt a twinge of guilt — was it really okay to be collecting a salary during the season while living like this? The thought this is an absolute jackpot began creeping into my head.

Granted, that thought lasted all of three days.

"You're not having more?"

"Yeah... no appetite... ugh!"

"Whoa, whoa!"

Ye-eun was approaching the stable stretch of her pregnancy now, and her morning sickness was only getting worse — someone had to look after her.

"Whew... Min-ah, you need anything?"

"I'm fine. You should be looking after Ye-eun unnie first."

"... No, it's just, I wanted to talk with you more too."

"I told you I'm fine? Take care of the pregnant lady, not the perfectly healthy one."

Then there was our exam student Min-ah, who insisted she was fine while quietly sulking because it felt like she got less attention than the others.

"Yi-seon... Noona was really trying to hold it in... but I hardly ever see you, and it's been so hard..."

"You're always welcome here. Come by whenever you like."

"How could I? I do have some sense of propriety, you know."

And then there was Seo-hee noona, who claimed to have a sense of propriety while showing up at the door because she couldn't stand not seeing me — she needed looking after too.

"Oh my~ So you're taking a little break? Then maybe Auntie should come see our Yi-seon's face for the first time in a while? I've seen you a few times lately, but never together with my daughter, have I?"

"Is our son-in-law doing well? There's no point raising a daughter, I swear — I call her and she couldn't care less about her oppa or whether her mother is even alive; it's nothing but talk about our son-in-law. The business updates are nice, but you have to pass along personal news too. Let's meet up face to face and have a proper chat."

"Player Kim Yi-seon. I heard from my secretary last time — you're looking for a new house, yes? You need a private training facility, it can't be too far from the ballpark, the neighborhood has to be livable, and you want a detached house in a well-secured area... Listings like that are never on the open market. They're owner-director deals you have to visit and negotiate in person. I'll come with you, so clear your schedule."

And for reasons beyond my understanding, summons from the mothers-in-law came pouring in on top of it all.

So much for rest — this was more like half a year's worth of neglected personal life crashing down on me at once.

To be fair, everyone was being considerate of the fact that the season was technically still going and I was on break, so these were kept to a minimum — urgent matters only, all of them.

But even those alone put me at full capacity. Pregnant Ye-eun. Min-ah, who'd chosen to go straight into university. Seo-hee noona, working so hard to have our relationship properly acknowledged by her family. A wedding scheduled right after the season ended. Hunting for a new newlywed home. Preparing for the baby...

Because I'd dug myself such an elaborate hole, the pile of things that could no longer be postponed had turned into a mountain.

I was beginning to suspect, quite reasonably, that the manager hadn't given me this vacation to rest at all — he'd sent me off to sort out my personal affairs first.

Then, with my activity level dropping off a cliff, the physical tension I'd kept taut all season long finally loosened for just a moment —

"Cough... c-cough! Haa... haa... I might catch it, so don't come near me. Go on, get away."

"... Thirty-nine degrees. You're burning up. The doctor said it's just a bad cold and rest is the best medicine, but at this rate shouldn't you at least take a fever reducer?"

"During the season you avoid medication as much as possible. Being careful about doping issues comes first."

"... Fine. I get it. Just rest, then."

Still, it was inevitable that I'd come down with something brutal. All things considered, a total collapse was practically scheduled.

Kim Yi-seon had collapsed from exhaustion.

At first, given the state of the world, everyone panicked and wondered if it was COVID, but thankfully the doctor said it was nothing serious — just a nasty flu.

Still. A bad cold? Kim Yi-seon, of all people?

"He actually catches colds pretty often. Doesn't suit him, right? Turns out he's kind of delicate."

That offhand remark from Lee Ye-eun. And for all her breezy delivery, even now, this very moment, her eyes kept flicking back toward the door of the room where Kim Yi-seon slept.

And she wasn't the only one. Kang Min-ah, who practically lived in that house, and Han Seo-hee, who'd been dropping by constantly these days — both wore faintly guilty expressions as they stared at that same door.

Their consciences couldn't help but prickle. It was news to them that Kim Yi-seon went down with exhaustion spells regularly, but frequent or not, the fact that his body had finally given out meant he'd been carrying an enormous load of stress and fatigue.

It would be easy to shrug it off — so that's how hard the season was on him — but Kim Yi-seon's women simply couldn't think that way.

Hadn't someone once said that marriage means taking on many sets of parents? Lately, now that Kim Yi-seon and his girlfriends were all easing into adulthood, the relationships were shifting from something as light as dating toward something serious — marriage.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Lee Ye-eun went without saying — the marriage registration was stamped and a baby was already on the way. With Kang Min-ah, the only reason there'd been no filing was the age gap; her mother had long since accepted the relationship. Han Seo-hee's father was still lukewarm, but her grandfather and mother had turned out surprisingly supportive, so things were progressing step by step.

Which is to say: on top of caring for pregnant Lee Ye-eun, exam student Kang Min-ah, and workplace superior Han Seo-hee, Kim Yi-seon had been pouring considerable energy into three separate in-law families — connections they'd all assumed were friendly and low-stakes.

No wonder the man got sick. This was a schedule that would have broken Kim Yi-seon even if he hadn't been throwing complete games and shutouts like meals and had never once skipped a turn in the rotation.

Worry for the Kim Yi-seon who still had to carry them through the postseason. The ache of seeing him sick. And the guilt of knowing they themselves were the cause.

The three women came to an agreement: they would resolve these feelings by nursing Kim Yi-seon back to health themselves.

"Anyway. If we keep moping around like we've committed a crime, that dummy will worry about US and neglect his own recovery. Act normal."

"I agree with that, but then unnie should rest too. Isn't that ice pack you're prepping—"

"His head is boiling over. Someone has to prep it."

"That's not the point — he told you to stay away because catching it could be dangerous for the baby."

"Oh, relax. The doctor said it's fine. Don't make a fuss, just go do your thing."

"The one making the fuss is Yi-seon oppa, not me, unnie. Even if you do look after him, would his mind be at ease? I'll go, so don't do anything reckless and get some rest."

"Well... Min-ah, you're an exam student too. Yi-seon worries about that constantly. So instead of either of you, I'll do it."

"Seo-hee unnie has club duties."

"Right. If you're hovering next to him, the kid will just worry more, won't he?"

And so the only thing they'd agreed on was the fact that someone needed to nurse him.

And it was all Kim Yi-seon's fault. The guy who was normally so clueless, bounding around like an overgrown puppy, was now groaning weakly in bed — and the devastation factor was off the charts.

Hadn't even Han Seo-hee, who'd sworn she would never fall for Kim Yi-seon, fallen for that? That look of his, kicking every protective instinct into overdrive, those misty eyes that somehow seemed more grown-up than usual — with guilt already in the mix, it was only natural that a little something greedy crept into all three of the women.

Round after round of you're out, I'm the one nursing him later, the endless argument finally reached its conclusion — far more anticlimactically than anyone expected.

In other words, the three of them hadn't settled anything through rational debate — the conclusion had arrived courtesy of outside intervention.

Without a moment to stop them, all three mothers-in-law converged on the same house, on the same day.

Lee Ye-eun, the puppet master who normally orchestrated everything from behind the curtain. Kang Min-ah, who met every situation with cool, unshakable composure. Han Seo-hee, who always presented the picture of a brilliant career woman.

This time, all three could do nothing but wear the expression of complete idiots and cry, how did this happen.

"Cough... cough... Ah... Haet-nim's gonna love that."

The man at the center of the whole affair, meanwhile, was lying there staring at the glow-in-the-dark dinosaur stickers on the ceiling, spouting nonsense.