“Get your stuff off **MY** lawn before I call the cops!” My daughter-in-law shouted at me after my father passed away. She had tossed all our family belongings out onto the lawn, claiming she had inherited the house. But just a few minutes later, my son pulled up, and karma struck her hard.
When the lawyer called about the reading of my father’s will, I was busy sorting through old family items and memories. I couldn’t bear to go to the lawyer’s office, so I asked my son, Matt, to go in my place.
“Of course, Mom,” Matt said. “Are you sure you don’t need any help sorting through Grandad’s stuff?”
“Thanks, but I’m handling it,” I replied. “I’m picking up his belongings from the nursing home later today. Why don’t you come by this afternoon and tell me if there’s anything you want to keep to remember him by?”
I thought the will reading would be simple, with no surprises. How wrong I was.
The nursing home smelled of cleaning products and old flowers, making my throat feel tight. I took a deep breath as a young nurse gave me Dad’s things, packed neatly in an old, plain box.
“Here you go, Ma’am,” the nurse said, with a kind but distant voice, as if she had done this many times before.
I nodded and said, “Thank you,” as I lifted the box.
It wasn’t heavy, but it felt like it was. Inside were his favorite old sweater, a small, worn Bible, and a few mystery novels with bent pages.
I touched the sweater, noticing a faint smell of his cologne, a scent that was both familiar and fading.
As I left, the finality of it all hit me.
Dad was really gone. I gripped the box tightly, hoping it could somehow keep him with me. When I got to my car, silent tears began to fall down my face.
I sat there and cried until there were no more tears left. My phone buzzed with calls and texts — it was Matt, worried about me. But some grief you have to face alone.
I never expected to come home and see my whole life dumped out on the front lawn like a garage sale gone wrong.
Boxes were piled up carelessly, with the wind blowing away the memories I had carefully packed from the attic.
Mom’s old recipes, her china, Dad’s favorite plaid quilt, and his books — everything was out there, unprotected, as if it meant nothing. I got out of the car, heart racing.
“What is happening here?” I whispered, stunned.
“Oh, good. You’re finally back. I was getting tired of waiting.”
There, sitting on my patio furniture, was Jessica, my daughter-in-law. She didn’t look up from her phone, sipping her coffee with a smirk.
“Jessica… What is all this?” I asked, my voice shaking. “What are you doing?”
She looked up, lowering her sunglasses to show the disdain in her eyes. She waved a hand like she was dismissing me.
“I’m doing what needs to be done. This is my house now,” she said smugly.
I felt a chill run through me. “Your house? What are you talking about?”
“You should have gone to the will reading,” Jessica said, holding up a piece of paper with my father’s signature. “Looks like your dad knew who deserved the house most.”
I grabbed onto the car door for support. “That’s impossible. Dad would never—”
“Oh, but he did,” she said, admiring her perfect nails.
“The house is mine now,” she said, stepping closer, her perfume overpowering. “It’s time for you to leave, Hattie.”
Just then, a truck pulled into the driveway. Matt jumped out, looking shocked as he saw the mess. His boots crunched on the gravel as he walked up, frowning in confusion.
“What is going on, Jess?” he asked, looking from me to her, his jaw clenched.
She stood up slowly, acting confident in her high heels. “I’m making changes, honey. And there’s more you need to know.”
Matt’s expression darkened. “More than you throwing my mom’s things all over the yard?”
“Oh, yes,” she said with a sharp laugh. “I want a divorce.”
Matt was speechless, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to understand. “What? You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” she snapped. “I’m done feeling like I don’t fit in. I need a fresh start.”
“You have no right—” I started to say, but she interrupted me with a wave.
“Save it, Hattie. You never wanted me in this family anyway. Now I’m taking what I deserve.”
Matt’s face went from shock to anger, his hands clenched into fists. “Everything people said about you was true,” he said through gritted teeth.
Jessica’s face twisted. “And you’re just a mama’s boy,” she hissed. “Always putting her first.”
“Don’t talk about my son that way!” I shouted.
Jessica stepped closer, hands on her hips. “I’ll say whatever I want. Now, both of you get your stuff off MY lawn, or I’ll call the cops.”
Matt looked at me, stunned. This made no sense — Dad didn’t even like Jessica! My hands shook as I called Dad’s lawyer.
“Hattie? I was just about to call you,” the lawyer said calmly.
In the background, Jessica yelled, “I never even liked you! You were just a way out of my old life. Now that I have the house, I don’t need you.”
“Tell me she’s lying,” I whispered to the lawyer. “Did Dad leave her the house?”
The lawyer chuckled. “No, Hattie. It was all a test to see her true colors.”
“A test?” I felt a wave of relief and started to laugh through my tears.
Jessica’s face dropped. “What’s so funny?”
“You should have waited for the real will reading,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she demanded.
“Dad never left you the house,” I explained. “It was a fake will to see your true self.”
Matt turned to her, his face full of realization. “Grandpa’s plan worked.”
Jessica’s eyes widened. She looked between us, panic replacing her smug look.
“Matt, please!” She reached out to him, but he pulled back.
“I was just upset,” she pleaded. “You know I love you!”
He shook his head. “You want a divorce? You’ve got one.”
As Jessica stormed off, her heels sinking into the ground, I felt a strange sense of peace. Dad’s wisdom had guided us one last time.
Matt and I started picking up my things from the lawn, and I realized that the true inheritance wasn’t the house. It was knowing who truly belonged in our lives.
Dad would have been proud.
