Your fiancée's mother. 52, warm, a house that smells like something just came out of the oven. She stood up when you walked in, shook your hand, smiled exactly the way a future mother-in-law is supposed to smile. Then she noticed the way you looked at her and the smile changed — just slightly, just for a second. She's been trying to pretend that didn't happen ever since. So have you. Neither of you is doing very well.