“Get your things off MY lawn before I call the police!”
When my father passed away, my daughter-in-law threw all my family’s belongings onto the lawn, claiming she had inherited the house. Minutes later, my son arrived, and karma hit her hard.
When my dad’s lawyer called about the reading of the will, I was knee-deep in moving boxes, sorting through decades of memories. I couldn’t make it to the lawyer’s office, so I called my son, Matt, and asked him to go in my place.
—”Sure, Mom,” he replied. “Are you sure you don’t need help sorting Grandpa’s things?”
—”Thanks, but I’ll manage,” I told him. “I’m picking up his things from the nursing home today. Why don’t you come by later and see if there’s anything special you’d like to keep to remember him?”
I was certain the reading of the will would be straightforward and without surprises. I was so wrong.
The nursing home smelled of antiseptic and slightly of wilted flowers, a combination that tightened my throat. I took a deep breath as a young nurse handed me my father’s belongings, carefully packed in a plain, worn-out cardboard box.
—”Here you go, ma’am,” the nurse said softly but distantly, as if she had done this hundreds of times.
I nodded and murmured a quiet thank you as I lifted the box.
It wasn’t heavy, yet the weight of reality bore down on me. Inside were simple things: his favorite sweater, a small Bible with a worn-out cover, and several mystery novels with dog-eared pages.
I ran my fingers over the sweater and caught a faint whiff of his cologne—familiar yet fleeting.
As I turned to leave, the truth finally hit me.
Dad was really gone. I clutched the box tightly as if holding onto it could somehow keep him with me. By the time I reached my car, silent tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I sat in the car and cried until I had no tears left. My phone rang several times, but it was only Matt. He was probably worried about me, but some grief must be faced alone.
The last thing I expected to find when I got home was my entire life scattered across the front lawn as if it were some kind of heartless estate sale.
The wind picked up, scattering the carefully packed memories I had taken from the attic.
Mom’s old recipes, her china, the worn-out checkered quilt Dad used to nap under, and all of his books—they were all out in the open, unprotected, as if they meant nothing. I stumbled out of my car, my heart pounding.
—”For the love of God, what…?” I murmured, my voice lost in the wind.
—”Oh, good. You’re finally back. I was getting tired of waiting.”
There was Jessica, lounging on the patio furniture, her designer sunglasses perched on her nose and her lipstick far too bright. My daughter-in-law didn’t even look up from her phone. She took a sip of her coffee, her lips curving into a barely concealed smirk.
—”Jessica… What is all this?” My eyes scanned the chaos, disbelief squeezing my chest. “What are you doing?”
She looked up and lowered her sunglasses just enough for me to see the contempt in her eyes. She waved a perfectly manicured hand dismissively.
—”I’m doing what’s right. After all, this is my house now.”
A cold knot twisted in my stomach.
—”Your house? What are you talking about?”
—”Looks like you should have attended the will reading.”
Jessica lifted a crisp document, and there it was—my father’s signature, clear as day, at the bottom.
—”I guess your father knew who deserved this house more, huh?”
I swayed on my feet, gripping my car door for support.
—”That’s impossible. Dad would never…”
—”Oh, but he did.” She smirked with satisfaction, casually inspecting her perfect manicure.
—”Signed, sealed, delivered. The house is mine now.”
She leaned toward me, and her perfume—cloying and artificial—invaded my space.
—”I think it’s time for you to move on, Hattie.”
Just then, a truck rumbled up the driveway, and Matt stepped out. His face twisted in confusion at the sight before him.
—”What the hell, Jess? First, you run out of the lawyer’s office, and now you send me this weird text? What’s going on?” he asked, looking between me and Jessica, his jaw tight.
She stretched lazily before finally getting to her feet, looking smug and at ease in her towering heels. My skin prickled.
—”Like I said, I’m making some necessary changes, darling. And there’s something else you should know.”
Matt’s expression hardened.
—”More than you tossing my mom’s belongings all over the yard?”
—”Much more!” Jessica let out a sharp laugh. “I want a divorce.”
The word hung in the air like the final nail in a coffin. Matt’s mouth opened, then closed as he struggled to process it.
—”What? You can’t be serious.”
—”Oh, but I am,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “I’ve spent too many years suffocating in this house, feeling like I never fit in, like I was never good enough.”
She waved her arm toward the house.
—”I need a fresh start.”
—”You have no right…” I started, but she cut me off with a dismissive flick of her hand.
—”Save it, Hattie. You never wanted me in this family. You looked down on me from the start. Well, now I’m finally getting what I deserve from all of you.”
Matt’s face shifted from confusion to fury, his fists clenching at his sides.
—”Everything my family said about you is true,” he said, his voice low and shaking. “You really are a greedy, heartless woman.”
Jessica’s mask cracked.
—”And you’re just a mama’s boy!” she spat. “Always running to her defense, always putting her first.” She pointed a manicured finger at him. “It’s pathetic. You’re just as small-minded as she is.”
—”Don’t you dare talk about my son like that!” My voice cut through the silence, sharper than I intended.
—”I’ll say whatever I want, Hattie,” Jessica said smugly, placing her hands on her hips. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She smirked.
—”In fact,” she continued, “you’d better hurry and get your stuff off MY lawn before I call the cops and have you both arrested.”
—”Are you insane?” Matt shouted.
I watched numbly as Matt argued with Jessica. None of this made sense! Dad hadn’t even liked Jessica! My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed my father’s lawyer.
His voice was a calming balm.
—”Hattie? I was just about to call you.”
My heart pounded.
—”Please tell me she’s lying. There’s no way Dad left her the house.”
There was a pause, then a warm chuckle.
—”You’re right. Your father didn’t leave her the house. It was all a test to reveal her true nature.”
Jessica’s face drained of color.
Matt turned to her, his expression dark with emotion.
—”Looks like Grandpa’s plan worked.”
Jessica stammered, but Matt cut her off coldly.
—”You want a divorce? Consider it done.”
As Jessica stormed off, I felt an odd sense of peace.
Dad’s wisdom lived on, guiding us even now.
And I knew—he would have been proud.