“Jane, we need to talk about the vacation.”
I nodded, curious.
We had been home for two days now. Back from our trip to the seaside, staying in a luxurious resort. It was almost the break I needed, minus the fact that I had the Smiths’ three children, and their friends, the Johnsons’ two sons to care for as well.
I was just doing my job in a fancier location.
“Of course,” I said. “It was a lovely trip. Thank you again for inviting me.”
“Yes, well,” Mrs. Smith started. “We need to discuss the plane tickets. When will you be able to return the $1000?”
I blinked. I was sure that I had misheard her.
“Sorry, $1000? For the tickets? What?”
“Yes, for the tickets, Jane,” she spoke slowly as if I was stupid. “We spent a lot on them, and we thought you’d be grateful enough to pay us back.”
My heart raced. I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I was their full-time nanny, with a mother to care for at home.
“But you told me that everything was sorted. You said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Jane. We’ve got it all covered.’”
Mrs. Smith’s expression hardened. Mr. Smith gazed at me.
“That was before the Johnsons refused to sign a business deal with Craig. That was the entire purpose of the holiday. Mr. Smith and I needed to woo them. So, there’s no need to seem generous now, Jane. You have exactly one week to return the money, or it will be taken from your pay.”
I was stunned. The room felt like it was spinning.
“But… I can’t afford that, Mrs. Smith,” I admitted. “Most of my salary goes to the rent at home and my mother’s medication. I can’t take that away from her. And you didn’t mention anything about paying you back!”
“That’s not our problem, Jane. One week,” Mr. Smith reiterated, reaching for a croissant from the tea tray left for Mrs. Smith. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the end of the discussion.
That night, I sat in my tiny room a few feet away from the Smiths’ house. I was seething. How could they do this? I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.
Then it hit me: the Smiths cared deeply about their social standing and their reputation.
“Of course, that’s all they care about,” I muttered to myself as I brushed my teeth before bed. “But I can use that to my advantage.”
The next day, after I dropped the kids off at school, I created a fake email account. I drafted a polite but detailed message about my experience, making sure to be clear without naming any names.
But there were enough telltale signs pointing to the Smiths, from their cars to the kids, to the gold facial appointments that Mrs. Smith bragged about.
Thereafter, I sent it to the key people in their social circle, including the other influential families that the Smiths wanted to be in league with.
“I just don’t understand what they want from us,” I overheard Mrs. Smith say into the phone later that day. “Eva asked me if everything is true, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
A few days later, the gossip started spreading. The Smiths’ dirty little secret on how they treated “their staff” was out, and naturally, their reputation took a hit.
Mrs. Smith called in a masseuse to soothe her muscles.
“Just let them into the spa when they arrive, Jane,” she said. “I need all the help I can get.”
Later that day, when I went to pick the kids up from school, the other nannies were hanging about, waiting for the bell to ring.
“Did you read the email about the Smiths?” one of the nannies said. “Jane, are they really like that?”
I nodded.
“They’re good parents, but they’re horrible people,” I admitted, not wanting to give away that I was the person who sent out the email.
“How long will you work for them?” another asked me. “I couldn’t live or work under those circumstances. Rich people need to learn that respect for them is earned, too.”
I smiled.
The nannies went back and forth as we waited. And through their chatter, I discovered something interesting about Mrs. Smith.
Turns out that my employer had a habit of “borrowing” items from her friends and never returning them.
“An entire Gucci handbag, Jane,” Mina said. “Mrs. Smith asked my ma’am if she could borrow it for a fundraising gala two months ago.”
“That’s ridiculous!” I said, shocked. “I didn’t know that she was capable of that sort of thing. But she doesn’t like me getting too close to her things anyway.”
A few days later, Mrs. Smith held one of her ladies’ luncheons. It was a monthly event that she loved hosting, but this time it was only two weeks into the month.
“I need this to go well, Jane,” she said as I cut fruit up for the kids. “So, you need to attend it. The kids will be at school. Everything will be catered for. Just walk around and talk to the women. Make us seem human.”
I knew that she was puzzling. She must have heard more than enough through the grapevine.
During the event, I walked around as requested of me. But I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip. And I had nothing to lose. The Smiths were probably going to fire me at the end of the week when I couldn’t make the $1000.
“We’ll deal with it, darling,” my mother coughed into the phone when I told her the truth of the matter.
At the luncheon, I walked around, casually mentioning to the ladies how much I admired Mrs. Smith’s collection, making sure that I spoke to Eva, Mina’s employer.
“Mrs. Smith has a stunning handbag similar to yours,” I said. “Gucci. Did she lend you this one? She’s always telling me that she lends her things out because she has so much.”
Eva looked at me over the top of her champagne glass.
“Is that so, Jane?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
Whispers started circulating. By the end of the luncheon, Mrs. Smith’s reputation for borrowing without returning was the hot topic.
The next morning, her friends began asking for their things back.
Mrs. Smith was mortified.
During dinner the next night, Mr. Smith called me to the table, asking me to join them.
“Thank you, but I usually wait for Ivy and Melanie to eat,” I said politely, mentioning the chef and her helper.
“No, sit with us,” he insisted.
I obliged.
Despite his tone, I hoped that maybe he was going to tell me that the money could be forgotten. And that everything would return as normal.
“It has come to my attention that an anonymous email has gone out,” he said, cutting into his steak.
“A disgusting email,” Mrs. Smith added, taking a long sip of her wine.
“Did you have anything to do with it?” he asked me, his eyes trying to coax a confession out of me.
I shook my head, looking down at my plate.
“Then that settles it,” he said, knowingly. “You’re dismissed. You can pack up and get out tomorrow.”
I did exactly as I was told and moved back home. A week later, Mrs. Johnson called me.
“Jane, can you come over for tea?” she asked warmly.
“Of course, Mrs. Johnson,” I replied, curious about the nature of the invitation.
As we sat in her luxurious living room, she looked at me with genuine concern.
“I heard about what the Smiths did to you. It’s disgraceful.”
I nodded, trying to keep my composure.
“Well,” she continued. “We’ve decided to cut ties with the Smiths entirely. And we’d like to offer you a job. Better pay, better working conditions. We could use someone like you for our kids.”
I was stunned.
“Of course!” I exclaimed. I needed the job desperately.
“You’ve earned it,” she smiled. “The boys loved having you watch them during the holiday. And somehow, you got Jonathan to eat his peas!”
I don’t know how the Smiths reacted to me working for the Johnsons, but I hoped that they felt betrayed.
What would you have done?
Grappling with his son’s suicide, Michael Madsen still hopes to find answers
The final text that Reservoir Dogs actor Michael Madsen got from his kid was simply, “I love you dad,” and that was it.
Sergeant stationed in Hawaii who had just completed his first tour when he shot himself in the head, according to his father.
“I am in shock as my son, whom I just spoke with a few days ago, said he was happy–my last text from him was ‘I love you dad,’” Madsen, the star of the Kill Bill franchise, told the LA Times.
“I didn’t see any signs of depression. It’s so tragic and sad. I’m just trying to make sense of everything and understand what happened,” he continued.
The eldest of Madsen’s children with wife DeAnna Madsen was Hudson, whose godfather was Quentin Tarantino. Brothers Kalvin and Luke were the next-oldest children. With his ex-wife Jeannine Bisignano, Madsen has two further boys, Christian and Max.
His wife, Carlie, whom he married in 2019, shared positive social media messages about their relationship. According to Carlie’s social media, the couple was considering IVF because they were unable to conceive naturally.
Carlie uploaded a selfie of herself in a hospital gown to Instagram exactly one week before he passed away on January 22, 2022, stating that she had recently had a tumor removed.
“I just want to give a shout-out to my amazing husband!” she adds in the post. He has been extremely patient throughout the entire procedure. Yesterday, I had surgery to remove a tumor from one of my breasts. Carlie continued, “We were at the hospital for about 7 hours yesterday and while I was in surgery he went to target and got me flowers, comfy pajamas, my favorite candy and a card! He’s also been amazing in helping with my recovery and I’m just so thankful…”
A few of weeks later, she tweeted a cute picture of herself and Hudson along with the simple caption, “I miss you so much.” Everyone was perplexed by the circumstances that led to Hudson’s suicide.
The father, who was 64 at the time, was upset about his suicide and stated, “He had typical life challenges that people have with finances, but he wanted a family,” according to Madsen. He was considering his future, so this is mind-blowing. I simply don’t understand what happened.
The Once Upon a Time in Hollywood actor Madsen also disclosed that his son, who had served in Afghanistan, was dealing with mental health issues behind the scenes of his seeming contentment. The actor stated that his son, who need counseling, stopped seeking assistance because of problems he was keeping to himself.
Madsen asked the military to conduct an investigation because he suspected “that officers and rank and file were shaming,” but the results of the investigation are remained classified.
One month after Hudson committed suicide, Madsen, known for his work on Quentin Tarantino’s bloody comedies, was detained in Malibu at the mansion from which he had just been evicted. Madsen was granted bail after being accused of trespassing.
The actor has a criminal record; according to TMZ, he was charged with child endangerment in 2012 and was charged with DUI in 2019 after wrecking his SUV.
The actor walked into his home, and finding his teenaged son smoking pot, the two got into an argument. TMZ writes, “…Madsen had gotten into a physical fight with his juvenile son–and when cops arrived, they observed several signs of injury on his son. We’re told Madsen also appeared to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of his arrest.” The son’s name was not released, and Madsen was.
The family issued a statement following Hudson’s passing, writing, “We are crushed and overwhelmed with grief and pain at the loss of Hudson. All those who knew and loved him will keep his memories and light in their hearts.
On January 23, 2023, offering a heartfelt tribute to her husband, whom she lovingly calls “Lump,” Carlie writes on her Instagram, “…I don’t even know how it’s been a year without you. It still hurts just as much as it did that day. You’re the first thing I think about everyday when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep at night. I can’t even describe how much I’m hurting and how much I miss you.”
She continued, “I just wish you would have talked to me and told me what was going on that day. I’m so sorry you thought this was the only way to make things better. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more and I didn’t see the signs. I’m sorry I let you down. Just know you’re always with me and always on my mind. I miss you so much and I love you more Lump.”
The tragic passing of Hudson Madsen marks the loss of a hero, son, best friend, and spouse. It’s time to tell everybody you know that you love them if they need to hear it.
There is always aid available, and keep in mind that you can call the Suicide Hotline in the U.S. and Canada by dialing 9-8-8 if you’d like to speak with someone anonymously.
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