The day my son brought his girlfriend home, I turned down a hundred-million-dollar partnership deal.
I cooked dinner myself to welcome them and even prepared a full set of gold jewelry as a gift for the girl. But the moment she sat down, she turned to my daughter—still in college—and started taking shots.
"Mrs. Sullivan, I heard you spend two million a year on your daughter. Piano, horseback riding, fencing, skiing... and for what? She'll just end up benefiting some other family's son."
"It's a losing investment, if you ask me. You'd be better off saving that money and buying a few properties for your soon-to-be grandson."
When I didn't respond, she went straight for the jugular.
"I'm carrying the Sullivan family's only male heir in three generations. If you want me to marry into this family, you'd better hand over half the fortune as a wedding fund."
My son, James Sullivan, didn't try to rein her in. Instead, he backed her up with a threat.
"Mom, since you clearly can't see reason, Meryl and I will move out after the wedding. And you can forget about ever seeing your grandchild."
My chopsticks paused for two seconds. I looked up and spoke calmly.
"No need to wait until after the wedding. You can both get out. Now."
An ungrateful dog that bites the hand that feeds it doesn't deserve to be fed.
——
"The Sullivan family has a rule passed down through generations: daughters are to be raised with every advantage."
"Meryl, if that doesn't sit well with you, then cling to James for dear life. Wait for him to build something from nothing, and when he's made his own money, he can spend every last cent on you and your child."
I went back to placing food on my daughter's plate, unhurried and deliberate.
Meryl Donaldson's face turned a shade of green. She kept jabbing James in the ribs with her elbow.
"Say something! You're the one who promised I'd be running this household the second I walked through the door."
James stole a glance at me, then stammered out his words.
"Mom, I'm only thinking of what's best for you."
"Dad passed away young. You raised me and my sister all on your own while managing over a thousand employees. Twenty years of carrying everything on your shoulders. Don't you think it's time to rest?"
"Meryl grew up helping run her family's shop, keeping the books. With her in charge, you won't have a thing to worry about."
When I said nothing, he shifted his gaze to Madge Sullivan. Then he looked down at the bowl of chicken soup in front of me.
"Sis, how many times have I told you? Mom has a bad stomach. She shouldn't be drinking soup with her meals. Why can you never remember? And you keep putting it right in front of her."
"No wonder they say a married daughter is like water poured out the door. When Mom's old and needs someone to take care of her day and night, that's going to fall on me and your sister-in-law."
Madge took after me in temperament. She wasn't someone you could push around.
She fired back without hesitation. "Have you lost your mind? Ever since you got involved with this woman, you've been siphoning money from the company's finance department to buy her luxury cars and mansions."
"Mom's been more than lenient with you, turning a blind eye every single time."
"And now you have the nerve to bring a gold-digger home to fight over the family fortune? Do you have any conscience left at all?"
His little scheme laid bare, James flushed red, then went white, frozen in place.
It was the outsider, Meryl, who had plenty of volume to spare. She leapt to her feet and planted herself in front of her man, hands on her hips, voice loud enough to rattle the windows.
"Madge Sullivan, who do you think you are? Talking to your older brother like that? And you call yourself a young lady from a prominent family—you don't have an ounce of class."
"Your mother wasted her money sending you to etiquette school. Twenty years old and still leeching off your parents. Shameless."
"Enough!"
I slammed my chopsticks down on the table.
The air in the room turned to ice.
Meryl's face went pale. She clutched her stomach and sank backward, collapsing limply into James's arms.
