When Lexie’s husband’s parents are left to give up their home due to losing their jobs, they are left stranded. Seeing her husband’s distress at being unable to help, Lexie allows her mother to welcome them to stay with her. Things start off okay, but then the tables start to turn. Instead of being grateful, they start to complain about everything, resulting in a call to social services.
Not long after Cameron and I got married, his parents were faced with unfortunate circumstances. His mom, Jessica, and dad, Roger had no choice but to give up their home because Roger had lost his job.
An elderly couple sitting on a bench | Source: Unsplash
Cameron and I didn’t have the space to take them in. But they were desperate, and so were we. We couldn’t let them just try and figure it out for themselves.
When they realized that my mother lives alone, they asked her to let them move in with her. My mom had a double-story house, but due to being wheelchair bound since a car accident a few years ago, she had a live-in nurse to care for her.
A broken windshield | Source: Pexels
“Please, Tanya,” my mother-in-law said when we were all at my mother’s house for dinner. “We don’t have anywhere else to go. And we don’t have any money available at the moment.”
I knew that this entire thing affected my husband because there was only so much we could do in our own capacity. When my mother agreed, Cameron gripped onto my hand tightly and sighed in relief.
A woman in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney
“Of course, you can stay here. You can stay for as long as you need to,” my mother told them.
At first, things were okay.
My mother-in-law cooked meals, and my father-in-law mowed the grass and took care of the basic upkeep of the house.
A person cutting oranges | Source: Pexels
But then, things changed and social services got involved. It was a nightmare.
This is what happened.
My in-laws began complaining that my mom was occupying the whole first floor, something that was obvious. Since her accident, my sister and I had converted the first floor into an entire house by itself for my mother.
A wheelchair beside a bed | Source: Pexels
She needed her space, and we were going to give it to her. The second floor was for our space when we visited Mom.
Instead of being grateful, my in-laws complained that they couldn’t put their stuff there. They mumbled about the simple food my mother had in her fridge.
An open fridge | Source: Pexels
“It’s such basic foods. There’s nothing new or different here,” Roger would say.
But still, even though they complained, they didn’t try to buy their own food or food that they would have liked to eat on occasion.
An elderly couple shopping | Source: Pexels
Nothing changed when Jessica got a job as head librarian at the local library or when Roger got a job as a proofreader for the local newspaper.
“Don’t you think they should start looking for a new place?” Cameron asked me when we were taking a walk one evening.
An elderly woman in a library | Source: Pexels
“I’m sure your mom cannot wait to have the house back,” he said.
“Actually,” I replied. “I think she enjoys having people there. She always said that it was too quiet with just her and Linda.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But my parents can be a lot.”
A couple taking a walk | Source: Pexels
It was as if my husband had spoken it into existence.
One day, as I went over to my mother’s house with pastries, I found her looking upset.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her immediately.
Pastries in a box | Source: Pexels
“Cameron’s parents,” she began slowly. “They’ve been hinting about a nursing home for me. I heard them talk about it last night, too.”
“Mom, do you want me to ask them to leave? They’re crossing the line,” I said, worried about her well-being.
A woman holding her face | Source: Unsplash
“Oh, honey,” she said, a mysterious smile forming on her face. “I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry.”
A few days later, my mother-in-law called us crying.
“How could Tanya do that to us?” she asked.
A crying old woman | Source: Pexels
Apparently, my mother had told them to pack their things and move to the first floor because she was ready to move into a nursing home. She said that she needed the help and that she wanted to live a little easier.
Cameron’s parents thought that they had won the battle they created.
A healthcare facility | Source: Unsplash
Instead, my mother had called social services, telling them that she had two individuals who were living with her temporarily but needed the help.
The next day, people from social services arrived at my mother’s doorstep, ready to take Jessica and Roger away to their social housing facilities.
A person holding a phone | Source: Pexels
They were livid.
Cameron and I met them at my mother’s house because they demanded an audience.
“This is outrageous! We thought we were moving downstairs, not out of the house!” my mother-in-law shrieked.
An angry old woman | Source: Pexels
“How dare she trick us like this! We have done everything for her these past few months,” my father-in-law added.
Beside me, my husband flinched. He was caught in the middle, not knowing what to do or how to react.
“You took advantage of her kindness and tried to push her into a nursing home. You got what you deserved,” I retorted, barely containing my own anger at their words.
An angry old man | Source: Pexels
“You can’t just throw us out like this!” my mother-in-law protested.
“You’ve got a little place to live now,” my mother said, smiling. “But also, that’s not my problem. I helped you out, and you did nothing but complain. You didn’t want to be here. You were just here because you had no choice. Now, you can learn to fend for yourselves.”
Jessica was appalled. I don’t think she expected my mother to retaliate in that way.
A smiling woman in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash
It was true, social services housed them in a little apartment which was close to both their jobs. They would be absolutely fine until they chose to move elsewhere.
As they left, they continued to curse, but it was clear that they had been defeated by the whole episode.
A small apartment | Source: Unsplash
“I’m sorry,” my husband told my mother when we settled her down again. “This was all my fault.”
It took a while for my mother to calm him down and make him realize that nothing was his fault.
“Your parents needed a place to stay, and they were welcome to do so here, but they continued to complain. They made life difficult here. Everything was a problem,” she said.
An upset man | Source: Unsplash
I continued to work my way around the kitchen while they spoke. I knew that my husband needed a pick-me-up, so I made his favorite Indian dishes, hoping that it would do the trick.
If I had to admit it, I also felt like it was my fault. I should have objected to the move in the first place. But I knew that my in-laws needed a place to live when they lost their homes. And maybe it was because of guilt.
A plate of food | Source: Unsplash
Guilt born from the mere fact that Cameron and I couldn’t do it ourselves, that we both had allowed them to live with my mother.
As we got into bed that night, I told my husband that we needed to see his parents. We needed to make sure that they were okay, despite their horrible behavior, they needed to know that we still cared.
A couple lying together | Source: Unsplash
The following day, we met them at their new apartment. It was a quaint little place, but it was just enough for the two of them. As we walked in, there were boxes lying everywhere and the smell of burnt toast permeated the air.
“I didn’t check the toaster setting,” Roger said, as his way of explaining.
Opened cardboard boxes | Source: Midjourney
We ended up taking them to a café for lunch, where they admitted to their behavior.
“We were in the wrong,” my mother-in-law said. “We know that now. We saw an easy way to live with Tanya, and we just wanted more. But now, we have to make it work for ourselves.”
An interior of a coffee shop | Source: Unsplash
I dug into my pancakes while Cameron let his parents have a piece of his mind. He went on about how they needed to be responsible for their actions and that nothing would make up for their behavior toward my mother.
“You embarrassed me. And you took advantage of my wife’s mother,” he said. “Do you know how that makes me feel?”
A stack of pancakes | Source: Unsplash
I allowed him to talk his way through it, while his parents continued to eat their eggs benedict in silence.
As we drove home, my husband stopped to get my mother a bouquet of flowers.
“She deserves it,” he said.
A bouquet of flowers | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Katie discovers that her mother-in-law has been making strange dolls for her daughter, she confronts the old woman, only to discover that she has been holding onto grief for her entire life. But what does that mean for the mysterious dolls? And the little girl who plays with them?
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.
BRIDE KICKS HOMELESS MAN OUT OF HER WEDDING UNTIL HE STARTS SINGING A SONG THAT ONLY SHE & HER DAD KNEW.
The ballroom shimmered, a testament to months of meticulous planning. Crystalline chandeliers cast a warm glow on tables laden with floral arrangements, each bloom a perfect testament to the bride’s vision. Jessica, radiant in her designer gown, felt a thrill course through her. This was it. The wedding of the century.
But as the guests began to arrive, a wrinkle appeared in the otherwise flawless tapestry of her day. A security guard approached her, his face a mask of polite concern. “Ma’am, there’s an elderly gentleman at the entrance. He insists on seeing you, but… well, he doesn’t quite meet the dress code. And, if I may be frank, he seems… unkempt.”
Jessica sighed. Of all the days for a complication. “I don’t know any elderly gentlemen,” she said, her voice laced with annoyance. “Please, just have him removed. I don’t want anything to disrupt the reception.”
The security guard nodded and turned to leave. Jessica watched as he approached the entrance, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the man in question. He was old, his clothes worn and patched, his hair a tangled mess. He looked, frankly, like a homeless man. A wave of disgust washed over her. She couldn’t have that at her wedding.
“Please, take him away before my guests smell that stench,” she instructed, her voice clipped.
The old man tried to speak, to explain, but the security guards, ever efficient, quickly escorted him away. Jessica dismissed the incident, focusing once more on the festivities.
Later, as the band took a break and the guests mingled, a hush fell over the room. A lone figure had taken the stage. It was the old man, the one she had dismissed so readily. He held a microphone, his posture surprisingly dignified. Before Jessica could react, he began to sing.
The melody was haunting, melancholic, and achingly familiar. It was a song her father used to sing to her, a song he had written himself. A song only she and he knew. He had sung it to her just weeks before he died, when she was seven years old, a song about a little girl and her dreams.
Jessica froze. The blood drained from her face. The room seemed to fade away, replaced by the memory of her father’s warm smile and the sound of his gentle voice singing that very song. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision.
As the last note faded, the old man lowered the microphone and stepped towards her. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes, surprisingly clear and intelligent, fixed on hers.
“Hello, Jessica,” he said, his voice raspy but kind.
Jessica couldn’t speak. She could only stare at him, her mind reeling.
“I know it’s been a long time,” he continued. “I’m… I’m your grandfather.”
The room gasped. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Jessica’s mind raced, trying to reconcile the image of the disheveled old man with the grandfather she barely remembered. Her father had spoken of him occasionally, a man who had left their family when Jessica was a baby. A man she had thought was dead.
“Your father… he loved this song,” the old man said, his voice thick with emotion. “He sang it to you every night. He told me… he told me to sing it for you on your wedding day.”
Jessica’s tears flowed freely now, a mixture of grief and disbelief. She had never known her grandfather, had never even thought about him. And yet, here he was, on her wedding day, brought to her by a song from her father, a song that unlocked a flood of memories she hadn’t realized she had.
She rushed forward, throwing her arms around him. He was thin, frail, but his embrace was warm and strong. “Grandpa,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears.
The wedding of the century had taken an unexpected turn. It wasn’t just a celebration of her union with her fiancé; it was a reunion, a rediscovery of a lost part of her family. The old man, the one she had dismissed as a vagrant, had brought her a gift more precious than any diamond, a connection to her past, a reminder of the love that had shaped her. And as she stood there, in the arms of her grandfather, surrounded by the whispers of her guests, Jessica knew that this was the most meaningful, most unforgettable moment of her life.
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