My late mother left me $500,000, which I assumed would provide security. Instead, it made my in-laws want me. One favor led to another until I realized they saw me as a living, talking money machine, not family.
I was done fooling them. I lost more than my mother when she died. My anchor, best friend, and cheerleader left.
She raised me alone, worked three jobs to earn my education, and never complained despite life’s challenges. Marina muttered, “Promise me you’ll stand up for yourself,” shivering in my hand, during our last conversation. Promise not to allow anyone walk over you.”
Promised.
But I had no idea when I’d be tested on that vow. They claim money changes people. They’re wrong.
Money doesn’t change people; it reveals them. Before my mom died, my in-laws barely tolerated me. Dolores, my mother-in-law, could bring out my inadequacies in a very gentle way.
She made fun of my cooking, dressing, and speech. In no better shape was my father-in-law Vernon. To him, I was just a shadow, irrelevant in his universe.
“Marina, dear,” Dolores imitated warmth during family meals, suggesting adding spice to the dish. I suppose not everyone can cook like a homemaker.”
Sweet spouse Theo was neutral and passive. His parents were wind, he was leaf.
However, my mother left me $500,000. I became more than Theo’s wife. I was their safe.
Their initial request for money was so casual you’d assume they were borrowing sugar. “Sweetie, Vernon’s car is just falling apart,” Dolores observed over coffee, shaking her head. “Poor man can hardly work.”
I frowned.
“That’s hard. Can we assist him find an excellent mechanic? Her eyes shone.
In fact, we were considering… With your permission, we could utilize a little portion of your inheritance to buy him a reliable secondhand car.”
Theo, seated beside me, gave me “the look.” Look of “just do it to keep peace”. I hesitated. “How much are we talking?”
“Only $5,000!” she said.
A little piece. It was for a practical automobile. So I agreed.
Dolores drove her new SUV into my driveway two weeks later. My first error. Since I opened the gate, they kept begging.
It became habitual. “Dolores’s dentistry!”
“Vernon needs vacation!”
“Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to redo the kitchen?”
I got cash from every conversation. Late one night, I faced Theo in our bedroom.
“See how your parents have asked for money five times this month?”
He rarely looked up from his phone. “They’re struggling.”
Struggle for a $15,000 kitchen remodel? These people are exploiting us, Theo.
His face seemed faraway when he met my eyes. My parents, love. Just temporary.”
“Like the car was temporary?
Like the dental work was temporary? I felt tears coming. “When does it end?”
“Why are you so dramatic?
Just money.”
“Not just money!” I yell. “My mom gave it! The last she could give me!
Your parents act like lotto winners!”
Marina, you’re exaggerating. They’re related.”
“Yeah? Some relatives.
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