A son discovers his mother’s will and what he reads in it makes him tell her to pack her bags immediately and get ready to leave his house.
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Gerald Nizbit stared at the text on his screen in astonishment, then he picked up the phone. “Helen,” he said crisply to his assistant. “Get me my lawyer on the phone, then Margaret Pratt, then my mother — in that order!”
Helen had been Gerald’s personal assistant for ten years, and she knew he wasn’t a particularly patient man, so she immediately started calling his attorney. In his office, Gerald was staring at the screen and shaking his head in disbelief. Oh, he was going to pay her back for this!
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Finally, Helen managed to get hold of the lawyer and put him through. “Sam,” said Gerald crisply. “Old boy, I just wanted to advise you that you committed a faux pas! You sent me my mother’s will for approval instead of sending it to her.”
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On the other side of the line, the lawyer blustered his apologies and embarrassment, but Gerald had said what he wanted to say so he quickly dismissed him and hung up. He sat staring out of his huge floor-to-ceiling window at the snowy New York skyline until the phone rang again.
This time it was Margaret Pratt. Gerald outlined his requirements succinctly, and told her, “I want it for today, Miss Pratt.” He listened to her objecting on the other side of the line then interjected.
“If you can’t get it sorted, I’ll go to someone who can.” The response on the other side of the line made him smile grimly. “This afternoon then, at 17:00,” he said and hung up.
He picked up the internal phone. “Helen, you can get me my mother now,” he said.
Within seconds, the ever-efficient Helen was patching through Mrs. Edith Nezbit. “Mother!” Gerald said. “Have two things to tell you. First of all Sam Kelson sent me your new will by mistake…and I want you to pack your bags immediately.”
Sitting in the lounge of Gerald’s gorgeous house where she lived with him Edith was speechless. “Gerald…Are you upset about the will? Please let me explain…”
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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
True value is what is attributed by the heart.
“I don’t need your explanations, Mother, I need you to have your bags packed and be ready to leave by 16:00,” Gerald said, and hung up. Edith sat there with her heart pounding. She’d thought Gerald would understand!
He was the youngest of her three children, and the one who’d always stood by her, helped her through the difficulties of life, and when Edith’s arthritis threatened to cripple her this last year, even though she was only 62, had taken her home to live with him.
Edith went upstairs to her room and packed her bags. Yes, she’d left all her money to her two older children, but she honestly thought Gerald would understand. Edith stared at her suitcase with tears blurring her vision.
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She had hurt her most beloved and kindest child! She had to explain! Edith called Gerald’s housekeeper to help her with her suitcase and went downstairs to wait anxiously for Gerald.
At 16:00 there he was, punctual as ever. He walked in, gave her a brief peck on the cheek and Edith cried, “Please Gerald. let me explain!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“I don’t have time for explanations, Mother. Come,” he said. “Everything is arranged.” He picked up Edith’s bag and carried it out to his car and put it in his trunk. Edith got into the car without a word.
Gerald drove without saying a word. “Where are we going, Gerald?” Edith asked, but Gerald chose that exact moment to turn on the radio and didn’t answer her. Edith looked around. She’d never been to this part of the city before…
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“Listen, Gerald, about the will…” Edith said bravely.
“Oh, the will!” said Gerald, glancing over at his mother and frowning. “The will in which you leave your house and $120,000 in savings to be divided between Amy and Oliver, and I get the old cabin by the lake and grandfather’s photos from the war, and dad’s watch?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“Yes…” whispered Edith. “You see…” But right then Gerald stopped the car. They had arrived at what appeared to be a small private airport, and a sleek private jet was waiting.
Gerald turned to Edith, and there were tears in his eyes. “Oh, mom, I understand about the house and the money. Amy and Oliver are struggling and I have more money than I could ever spend.
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“But what you are leaving me, mom, shows me how well you understand me. You know exactly what is important to me and close to my heart. I have all the money I need but the memories you are giving me are precious!”
“But Gerald…” gasped Edith. “I thought you were kicking me out!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Gerald grinned. “No such luck! I’m taking you to Tahiti for two weeks. I think it would do your arthritis the world of good, and I could use some quality time with my mom!”
Edith embraced her youngest — and secretly her favorite son, with tears in her eyes. He’d understood! Edith knew that her father and her husband’s keepsakes would be cherished and passed on lovingly by Gerald.
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The two spent a lovely time in Tahiti, and Gerald got himself a tan and even met a lovely girl who was also on vacation and came from New York and it looked to Edith like maybe she wouldn’t have to wait too long for those grandchildren after all!
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
What can we learn from this story?
- Don’t judge people’s intentions by your own fears. Edith was afraid her son would be angry over her will so she thought he was throwing her out.
- True value is what is attributed by the heart not what something costs. For Gerald, the photos, the watch, and the old cabin were more precious than millions of dollars.
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My MIL Left the House Every Thursday & Returned Smelling Terribly — I Went Pale When I Discovered Why
They say you never really know someone until you’ve lived with them. I thought I knew my mother-in-law, but everything changed when I decided to follow her. What I uncovered wasn’t just a secret; it was a ticking time bomb that threatened the peace of our home.
I used to think my life was predictable, with its comforting routine. I worked as a freelance graphic designer, which gave me the flexibility to be home most days while still bringing in a decent income.
A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney
Xander, my husband, worked long hours at his law firm, so I often had the house to myself. It was peaceful until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago.
After her husband passed away, she called us one night, her voice trembling.
“Olive, dear… I don’t know how to do this on my own,” she’d sobbed over the phone. “The house is so empty, so lonely… I just need to be around my family.”
An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
I glanced at Xander, and he nodded, looking concerned. We agreed to let Cordelia move in; it felt like the right thing to do for a grieving woman who’d just lost her partner of 40 years. But from the start, something felt off.
Cordelia had always been a little strange, but now her behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she would leave early in the morning and return late in the evening, her clothes carrying a terrible stench: something rotten and damp, like decay. It lingered, clinging to the air and making me question what she was really up to.
A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, where were you today?” Xander asked her one Thursday evening as she shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes avoiding ours. I stood by the stove, pretending to stir a pot of soup, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell.
“Oh, just out with some old friends,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, her smile tight and unconvincing.
A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Every Thursday?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “That must be some social circle.”
She glanced at me, her eyes lingering a moment too long, then shrugged. “We like to meet regularly. It’s good for the soul, you know, catching up with old friends.”
But that smell — it was like she’d been crawling through a sewer. The scent lingered long after she’d passed, a pungent blend of garbage and something wet and decayed. I could feel my curiosity gnawing at me, the way you can’t help but poke at a sore tooth.
A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
One Wednesday night, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Xander,” I whispered, nudging him awake. “Are you seriously buying that story?”
He blinked sleepily. “What story?”
“Your mom’s ‘out with old friends’ story,” I replied. “Every Thursday? And that smell… it’s not normal.”
He sighed. “Maybe she’s just grieving in her own way, Olive. People cope differently.”
I felt my jaw tighten. “And what way is that? Dumpster diving?”
He chuckled softly, half-asleep, “Let it go, love. It’s probably nothing.”
A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney
But it didn’t feel like “nothing.” It felt like a secret, and I needed to know.
The next Thursday, I called in sick and decided to follow her. I waited by the window, peeking through the blinds like some kind of amateur detective. Cordelia left the house at her usual time, dressed in her oversized coat, clutching her handbag tightly.
I kept a safe distance as she walked down the street, turning left at the end and then another left into an alley I didn’t even know existed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tailed her.
A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She stopped at the corner and looked around like she was checking for someone or something.
“Where are you going, Cordelia?” I whispered, more curious than ever.
I was expecting something harmless, maybe even laughable, like an old ladies’ knitting club or maybe a bingo night in a creepy basement. But what I found inside was nothing like that.
Cordelia didn’t meet up with friends. Instead, she made her way through the shadiest part of town, slipping into an old, run-down building that looked like it could collapse at any moment.
A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney
I hesitated outside, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows boarded up, but I took a deep breath and followed her inside. The air was thick with smoke, the kind that sticks to your skin, and the room was filled with the low hum of murmurs and distant laughter.
That’s when I saw it: a hidden, illegal casino tucked away in the back, reeking of stale smoke and the sour smell of desperation. The dimly lit room was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of poker chips clinking filled the air.
Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels
And there, in the middle of it all, was my mother-in-law. Not just “hanging out with friends,” but gambling away every penny she could get her hands on, her eyes fixed on the cards in front of her, her hands trembling with each bet she placed.
I stayed in the shadows, barely breathing, watching her play hand after hand. She looked different, haggard, almost like she was wearing the weight of every decision she’d ever made. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise.
A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney
I saw her lose money, win a little, then lose it all again. She seemed almost possessed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the chips, her face lined with a mixture of desperation and obsession.
I wanted to pull her out of there, to grab her by the arm and drag her home, but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen, glued to the spot. I needed to see how far she would go. She didn’t leave until late in the evening, and when she finally did, she looked exhausted.
A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes were glazed over, and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of her losses on her back.
I waited until she turned the corner before I followed, keeping my distance. As we walked back, I felt a wave of anger and pity twisting in my stomach. What had she gotten herself into? And why hadn’t she told us?
The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. At breakfast, I set my coffee cup down a little too hard. “Cordelia, where were you yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She barely looked up from her cereal. “With friends, like I told you.”
“Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.”
Her spoon clattered against the bowl, and she went pale. “You… you followed me?”
Xander looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”
“She wasn’t with friends, Xander,” I said, my gaze fixed on her. “She was at an illegal casino, gambling. And from the looks of it, she’s been doing it for a while.”
A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney
Cordelia’s face crumpled, and she broke down. “I… I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything… everything. I had nowhere else to go. That’s why I begged you to let me stay. I was ashamed, and I didn’t know how to tell you…”
Xander’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Using us?”
“I didn’t mean to!” she cried. “I didn’t know how to stop. I thought maybe… maybe I could win it all back.”
A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney
I felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the anger boiling inside me. “You’ve been draining us, Cordelia. We took you in because we cared, not so you could feed your addiction.”
She looked at me, her face streaked with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. Just… don’t throw me out. Please.”
That night, Xander and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. “We have to do something,” I whispered. “We can’t just let her keep doing this.”
Xander sighed deeply. “What do you suggest, Olive? Tough love?”
A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney
I nodded. “Exactly. If she’s not going to stop on her own, then we’ll have to make her stop.”
The following Thursday, I handed her a large sum of cash, more than she had seen in one place since she’d moved in with us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw that familiar spark of greed.
“Go ahead,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take this and do whatever you want with it.”
A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated for just a second before snatching the money and stuffing it into her purse.
“Thank you, Olive,” she murmured, her voice shaking, but she didn’t meet my eyes. And then she was gone, practically running out the door.
Xander stood behind me, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about this?”
“Trust me,” I replied. “She won’t get far.”
Earlier that day, I had made a few calls, and by the time Cordelia reached the casino, the place was swarming with undercover cops. The raid went down right as she was about to hand over the cash.
Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t there to see it, but I could imagine the look on her face: shock, maybe a little betrayal, as they caught her red-handed, along with the owners of the illegal casino.
That evening, the phone rang. It was the police. “Mrs. Fields?” the officer said. “We have your mother-in-law in custody.”
“We know,” I replied calmly. “And we’re not bailing her out. You should know she’s been struggling with a gambling addiction. We want her to get help.”
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
The officer seemed taken aback but eventually agreed to include our statement in the report. The judge showed no mercy; Cordelia was sentenced to mandatory rehabilitation and a hefty fine.
Months later, when she was released from rehab, Cordelia looked different. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She stood in our doorway, wringing her hands.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I know I hurt you both, and I’m ready to make it right. I want to rebuild my life.”
A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney
Xander and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, his expression soft but firm.
“We’re willing to give you another chance, Mom,” he said, “but on our terms. We’ve found you a modest apartment nearby. We’ll cover the rent, but only if you keep your word and attend your support group meetings.”
Cordelia nodded eagerly, tears in her eyes. “I will. I swear. Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance.”
As we watched her walk away to her new home, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope mixed with the fear of another betrayal.
A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney
We’d done all we could, and the rest was up to her. The ball was in her court, and only time would tell if she could truly change.
But when Natasha starts to see a change in Marlene’s behavior, she begins to get worried about the old woman. Eventually, when the truth is revealed, Natasha doesn’t know what to do.
Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels
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.
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