Phoebe thought her day couldn’t get worse when she found her sister and her family settling into her home without asking. But just as hope seemed lost, an unexpected knock at the door set in motion a delicious serving of instant karma.
I was always close to my sister while growing up, but things changed after she got married. What happened between us a few days ago was something I’ll never forget.
I’m Phoebe, 31, and I own a modest three-bedroom house. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s mine, and I’m damn proud of it.
I’ve been paying it off for ten years now, working day and night to make those mortgage payments.
I won’t deny that I sometimes envy my friends living in their fancy apartments downtown, but then I remember that this place is mine. No landlord breathing down my neck, and no roommates leaving dirty dishes in the sink. Just me and my space.
Now, let me introduce you to my sister, Holly.
She’s 38, a mother of two, and married to her high school sweetheart, Nicholas. We used to be close when we were younger, but things changed when she got married. She started focusing more on her new life, and I never blamed her. I believe she did what she thought was best for her.
We drifted apart, but we were still on good terms. Or so I thought.
Holly and Nicholas have always been the free-spirited types. They’re one of those people who’re always talking about “quitting the rat race” and “living life to the fullest.”
It used to drive me nuts when we’d get together for family dinners.
“Life’s too short to be stuck in a cubicle, Phoebe,” Holly would say, sipping her wine. “You should travel more, see the world!”
I’d roll my eyes.
“Some of us like having a steady paycheck and a roof over our heads, Holly.”
Nicholas would chime in, “But think of the experiences! The memories!”
Yeah, well, memories don’t pay the bills, buddy, I’d think.
I tried to tell them to be more careful with their money. They were always jetting off on last-minute trips or buying the latest gadgets, even with two young kids to think about.
But did they listen? Nope.
A few months ago, they actually did it. They sold their house during the market boom, thinking they’d use the profit to fund a year-long break to “travel the world.”
I remember the conversation like it was yesterday.
“We’re doing it, Phoebe!” Holly squealed over the phone. “We sold the house!”
“What?” I nearly choked on my coffee. “Holly, are you serious? What about the kids’ school? Your jobs?”
“Oh, we’ll homeschool them on the road. It’ll be an education in itself! And we can always find work later. This is our chance to really live!”
I tried to talk some sense into her. I was really worried.
“Holly, have you really thought this through? Travel is expensive, especially with kids. What happens when the money runs out?”
“Don’t be such a worrywart, Phoebe,” she said, brushing off the concerns. “We’ve got it all figured out. We’ll stay in hostels, maybe do some volunteering for room and board. It’ll be fine!”
It was not fine. Not at all.
At first, their social media was full of pictures from nice hotels and fancy restaurants.
“Living the dream!” they’d caption every post.
But within two months, those posts started to dwindle.
The last one I saw was a grainy shot of them camping in some field, with a caption about “embracing the simple life.”
Then, radio silence for a few weeks. I thought they were just busy enjoying their travels, unaware of what was really happening behind the scenes.
One day, I came home from work, exhausted after a long day of meetings and deadlines. All I wanted was to kick off my shoes, pour a glass of wine, and binge-watch some trashy reality TV.
But as soon as I opened my front door, I knew something was off.
There were shoes I didn’t recognize in the entryway, kid-sized backpacks on the floor, and familiar voices coming from my living room.
I walked in, and there they were.
Holly, Nicholas, and their two kids. They were unpacking suitcases and boxes in MY living room.
“Holly?” I blurted out, squinting my eyes as I looked at the mess in my living room. “What… what are you doing here?”
“Oh, hi Phoebe!” Holly chirped. “Surprise! We’re back!”
“Back?” I repeated. “In my house?”
Then, Nicholas stepped forward, smiling like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Yeah, we decided to cut the trip short,” he said. “Turns out, full-time travel with kids is harder than we thought!”
“And Mom gave us your spare key… the one you gave her for emergencies,” Holly added. “I knew you wouldn’t mind us crashing here for a bit while we figure things out. It’ll only be for a few months.”
“A few months?” I protested. “Holly, are you serious? You can’t just move into my house without asking me!”
“But… we’re family. I thought you’d be happy to help us out.”
“Happy?” I could feel my cheeks burning with anger. “Holly, this is my house. My space. You should’ve talked to me about this!”
“Now, now, Phoebe,” Nicholas interrupted. “Let’s not get too high and mighty here. Family helps family, right? It’s not like you’re using all this space anyway.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Where did this entitlement come from? Why were they acting like what they did was fine?
“You guys need to leave,” I said, crossing my arms on my chest. “Now.”
But Holly refused.
Meanwhile, Nicholas started subtly threatening me.
“Come on, Phoebe,” he began, looming over me. “Don’t make this difficult. We don’t have anywhere else to go.”
I was furious. If I called the cops, their young kids might get dragged into it, and I didn’t want that.
I needed to come up with a plan, so I headed straight to my bedroom and locked the door behind me.
At that point, I honestly felt like crying. I had no idea what to do until my phone buzzed. It was a text from my old college friend, Alex.
Hey Pheebs! In your area for work. Drinks tonight?
Alex was always the prankster in our friend group, always coming up with wild schemes. If anyone could help me out of this mess, it was him.
I quickly texted him back.
Actually, can you come over? I have a situation and could use your help. Bring your acting skills.
The doorbell rang an hour later, and I raced to answer it before Holly or Nicholas could. When I opened the door, I saw a police officer standing at my doorstep.
“Oh my God, Alex!” I looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re wearing the perfect costume!”
I quickly stepped outside and closed the door behind me.
“What happened, Pheebs?” he asked.
“I need your help getting rid of my relatives,” I told him, still fascinated by his fake police uniform. “They’ve completely taken over my house.”
I quickly explained the situation, and Alex agreed to help. Then, I opened the door and called out to Holly and Nicholas.
“Holly, Nicholas, can you come here please? There’s a police officer who needs to speak with us.”
They were smiling when they came into the hallway, but their expressions immediately changed when they saw Alex in his uniform.
“Good evening,” Alex said. “I’m Officer Johnson. We’ve received reports of a break-in at this address. Can you tell me what’s going on here?”
Nicholas looked at me, squinting his eyes. Then, he puffed up his chest and slowly walked toward Alex.
“There’s no break-in here, officer,” Nicholas said in a serious tone. “We’re family. Everything’s fine.”
“Officer, these people entered my home unlawfully,” I said. “I never gave them permission to be here.”
Alex nodded and then looked at Holly and Nicholas.
“How did you gain entry to this residence?” Alex asked.
“We, uh, we used a key,” Holly stammered. “Mom gave it to me. It was a, uh, spare key for emergencies.”
“But no one asked my permission,” I intervened. “So, technically, you broke in. Who knows what might be missing?”
“I see,” Alex said, looking around the house. “And when the homeowner asked you to leave, did you comply?”
“Now, hold on a minute,” Nicholas said, his voice trembling slightly. “We did—”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises immediately,” Alex cut him off, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “Failure to do so could result in charges of breaking and entering, as well as trespassing.”
I wanted to laugh so hard watching Nicholas pretending to be a police officer. He was just amazing. His last sentence was enough to send Holly and Nicholas into a panic.
“We’re sorry…” Holly began. “We’ll pack up.”
They quickly began throwing their things into their bags.
“If you leave right now,” Alex said sternly, “I won’t file charges. But you’ll return the key and never trespass again.”
They didn’t need to be told twice. Alex and I watched in silence as they grabbed their kids and their bags and bolted out of the house.
I finally laughed once their car sped away.
“You’re a lifesaver, Alex,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “Coffee?”
“Sure!” he said as he walked in and closed the door behind him.
I quickly made two cups of coffee before we sat in my now-quiet living room.
“I can’t believe they just assumed they could live here,” Alex said, shaking his head.
“I know,” I sighed. “Part of me feels guilty, you know? They’re family, after all. But I just couldn’t let them freeload off me like that.”
“You did the right thing, Phoebe,” Alex reassured me. “They can’t just take advantage of you because their hare-brained scheme failed.”
“I’m so glad you messaged me at the right time, Alex,” I said, looking at my phone. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you. But why did you come dressed up like a police officer?”
“Oh, that,” Alex chuckled. “I was just messing around with friends, pulling pranks and all. I had no idea my costume would come in handy over here. What a coincidence, right?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “What a coincidence.”
As we talked, I couldn’t help but think of the consequences of my actions. Had I done the right thing? Would this drive an irreparable wedge between me and my sister?
But then I looked around my living room. It was my space, and I had worked so hard for it. I thought about all the long hours and the sacrifices I’d made to buy a house and realized I couldn’t let Holly and Nicholas just take over everything.
I also realized it was okay to put myself first. It was okay to stand up for myself and not let people walk all over me.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes?
My Son Stays Quiet as His Wife Insults Me — But He Soon Teaches Her a Lesson in Front of Guests
Kate cannot wait to spend the holidays with her son and his wife — it’s her first Christmas with the family. But when Liz criticizes her cooking, and John chooses silence over defending his mother, will the holidays be ruined?
I was always the feeder — especially after I got married, it was always me cooking for every family dinner and during the major holidays, like Christmas. But after Oliver, my husband, passed, I lost hold of that part of me.
Now, I barely cook, just enough to keep myself going, and barely that.
Except during the holidays because this is when my son, John, comes for his annual roast dinner. And then, it’s time for me to shine. But this year, things got very heated in the kitchen.
This was the first year with Liz, John’s wife, joining us. When they were dating, she always went home to her parents instead of visiting us. Which, I’ll admit, is fair because being with your family is everything during the holidays. Anyway, I was intrigued to see how Liz would mix with the rest of our family for the day.
Person chopping vegetables | Source: Unsplash
I got up early and began the Christmas meal, knowing that it would be an early dinner with many side dishes and different desserts to follow. I made the usual Christmas dinner that we’ve done for years — chicken, with roasted potatoes and gravy being the main attraction, but with lots of little dishes. Things that John loved.
But Liz? Oh, she definitely wasn’t a fan.
I was putting the final touches on the chicken when Liz strolled into the kitchen, cell phone in hand, eyeing my cooking. She looked around the kitchen with an expression that looked like she had smelt something terrible. I tried to ignore her because I was already sweating away.
Roast chicken on plates | Source: Pexels
Then, she hit me with a line that slammed through me. “Hey, Kate,” she said, “maybe we should order food. Not everyone wants what you’ve cooked. I don’t know if everyone enjoys your cooking, either. Every aspect of Christmas is supposed to be enjoyed by everyone. They should enjoy the food, too!”
I was completely blindsided by her words.
I saw John leaning against the archway, nibbling on a carrot. He altogether avoided my gaze, looking over me and out the window across the room. I held back my tears and bit my lip.
Family get together | Source: Pexels
The guests were almost all present, sitting all over the house, and I didn’t want to put a damper on the dinner, even if Liz had hurt me. Dinner rolled around, and the table groaned beneath the weight of the food. My guests, John included, were digging in and singing praises for the food I had been cooking for most of the day.
“The food’s great, right? Everyone’s enjoying it?” John asked the table.
His uncle laughed and helped himself to another serving of roasted potatoes. “Why wouldn’t we enjoy my sister’s food?” my brother said.
“Because Liz said that the dinner might be ruined by Mom’s dishes. She wanted us to order in.”
“Nonsense!” my brother exclaimed, drowning his potatoes in gravy.
Roasted potatoes | Source: Pexels
John looked at me and smiled. Which was when I realized that my sweet boy’s silence wasn’t meant to hurt me. No. He was trying to bide his time until he could teach Liz a lesson and embarrass her in front of our family.
Liz turned red from his comment as everyone stared at her. I’ll admit that I felt bad for her. It was her first Christmas with us, and already, it wasn’t looking promising.
Later on, when I was in the kitchen again, packing the dishwasher and emptying dishes of food, Liz came in.
“Kate, I’m sorry,” my daughter-in-law said. “I was so wrong to do what I did. I am sorry, please understand.”
“Understand what?” I asked her.
I did feel bad, yes. But I was still hurt.
Loaded dishwasher | Source: Pexels
“I only said that because John loves your food. He always talks about how you make all these special things for him. I can’t make a basic mac and cheese without him saying yours is better. I looked at the food, smelt all the delicious smells from this kitchen, and panicked.”
“Liz, you should know that a boy and his mother’s food is a relationship in and of itself,” I laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. “I can teach you how to cook just like me. My mother taught me everything I know.”
“Really?” she asked. “Even after I’ve been so horrible?”
“Yes,” I said with a softening smile.
Then, I led her to the Christmas tree, ready to give Liz her present.
I still think the whole thing hurts me, but I’m grateful she didn’t say what she said for a nasty reason. Liz felt threatened by John’s relationship with my food instead of fostering a relationship with Liz’s cooking.
But I can teach her.
Christmas present wrapped with red thread | Source: Pexels
If the same thing had happened to you, what would you have done? Would you have been silent until the truth came out, like me? Or would you have retaliated immediately?
Leave a Reply