My mother-in-law, Linda, has always been incredibly generous. When my husband Jake and I started out with nothing, she bought our entire living room set. When our first child was born, she provided the crib and the furniture. She was our safety net for eight years.
But six months ago, her husband died suddenly. Grieving and lonely, she started coming over three times a week, crying at our table and staying for dinner. It was exhausting. When she begged to join us for Christmas Eve because she couldn’t bear to be alone, Jake said yes without asking me. I was annoyed. My sister suggested that if she was coming to my house for a meal I cooked, she should at least chip in.
It made sense to me. Why should we foot the bill when she has a pension and life insurance?
On Christmas Eve, after a lovely dinner, I pulled Linda aside while Jake was putting the kids to bed. I handed her an itemized bill for $100 for her share of the meal. She just stared at me, smiled a strange smile, and said, “Of course. Let me get my purse.” She walked out, and I thought she was going to her car.
An hour later, she returned—with two moving men. Without saying a word to me, she pointed at the furniture. They took the couch, the armchairs, the dining table, the coffee table, the kids’ beds, and even our dresser. Every single thing she had ever bought us.
Before leaving, she handed me a receipt showing she had just donated $15,000 worth of furniture to charity. “Now we’re even,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”
Now, our house is empty. My kids are sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor, and Jake won’t look at me. He just keeps saying, “I hope that $100 was worth it.” I thought I was just asking for a fair contribution, but I realize now I traded a lifetime of support for a hundred bucks and an empty house.
