Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
My daughter's husband mentioned that I wasn't contributing sufficiently and
asked me to leave. I complied, but before departing, I
withdrew the money from the shared account I had established
to assist them then. I never thought my kindness would
get me kicked out of my own daughter's house, but
that's exactly what happened two weeks ago. It all started
(00:21):
when I moved in with them temporarily while my house
was being renovated. I'm fifty two, divorced, and for the
first time in years, I didn't have a place of
my own to call home. My daughter, Emily and her
husband Jack, offered to let me stay in their guest room,
and I accepted. I was careful not to impose I cooked,
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cleaned up after myself, and stayed out of their way.
I even opened a joint account with them to cover
any extra expenses my stay might have caused. Depositing a
decent chunk of money each month, it was my way
of saying thank you. At first, everything seemed fine. Emily
seemed happy to have me there, and I thought Jack
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was too. But then things started to change. Little comments
from Jack turned into full blown complaints. He complained about
how crowded the house felt, or implied that I wasn't
contributing enough. At first, I chalked it up to stress
or a misunderstanding. I wasn't going to let little things
ruin my relationship with my daughter. But the breaking point
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came when Jack sat me down and told me I
wasn't helping enough and that I needed to pull my
weight or leave. I was stunned. I just put another
five thousand dollars into the joint account a week earlier.
When I reminded him, he grinned and said, well, if
you can afford that, maybe you could help us out
with a car. We need something bigger now that you're here.
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At first I thought he was joking. When I realized
he wasn't, my answer was clear. I told Jack, no,
I wasn't rude. I explained that the money I'd contributed
was to cover food, utilities and any extra house sold
expenses during my stay. A new car that was a luxury,
not a necessity, and certainly not my responsibility. I thought
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he'd drop it, maybe mutter something under his breath, but
instead he crossed his arms and leaned back, as if
he'd been waiting for this well, if you're not willing
to step up, he said, then maybe it's time for
you to find some place else to stay. At first,
I thought i'd misheard him. Excuse me, I asked, looking
at Emily for some kind of reaction. She didn't say
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a word. She just looked down at her hands, as
if she had rehearsed this conversation and knew how it
would go. Jack didn't let up. You've been here for months,
and frankly, it's starting to feel like you're taking advantage
of us. Emily and I have been talking, and we
think it's only fair that if you want to stay,
you contribute in some meaningful way. A new car would
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go a long way toward making this work for every one.
I stared at him in disbelief. A new car, the
nerve of him to sit there and act like I
owed them anything, let alone something so extravagant. No, I said, flatly,
I'm not buying you a car. Jack grinned as if
he'd expected that answer. And I think it's time for
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you to pack up. This isn't working. I turned to Emily,
hoping she'd say something, intervene, or at least tell me
this wasn't her idea. Instead, she looked away. I realized
then that she wasn't going to fight for me, not
against him. She was choosing Jack, no matter how unfair
or unreasonable he was being. I didn't argue or make
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a scene. I went to the guest room and started
packing my things, my hands shaking as I tried to
keep my composure. But before I left the house, I
opened my laptop and logged into the joint account I'd
set up for them. The balance was exactly what I
thought it would be, dollar fourteen point three hundred. I'd
been adding money steadily for months, thinking I was helping
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them out, showing my gratitude for their hospitality. Hospitality, What
a joke. I didn't hesitate. I transferred every single penny
back to my personal account. It was my money and
I wasn't going to leave it behind After being treated
like a parasite. I left the house without looking back.
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My car was packed, my head was spinning, and my
heart felt heavier than ever. Emily didn't even come out
to say goodbye. Jack stood in the doorway with his
arms crossed, watching me like he couldn't wait to see
my back. As I drove away. I replayed the conversation
in my head. Jack had always been a bit selfish,
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even entitled, but I'd never imagined he'd go this far.
And Emily Her silence was louder than anything Jack had said.
She'd always been my closest ally, my rock after the divorce,
and now it felt like she'd chosen a man like
him over me. I pulled into a hotel parking lot
and sat in the car for a while, trying to
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figure out my next move. I couldn't go back to
my house. It was still a construction zone. My sister
lived two states away, and I didn't want to burden
her with this mess. For the first time in years,
I felt completely alone. Then I thought of the joint account.
I hadn't even told them i'd taken the money back.
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I knew it wouldn't be long before Jack found out.
Part of me wondered if he'd try to call me,
demand answers, or even have the audacity to ask for
the money back. I wasn't sure how I would handle
it if he did. The next morning I got my answer.
My phone rang, and when I saw Emily's name on
the screen, my stomach dropped. I debated ignoring it, but
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decided to answer it. Mom She began, her voice soft.
Jack says, the joint account is empty. Did you take
the money? I paused, not sure how to answer, Emily,
I said carefully, that money was mine. Every single dollar
I put into that account was to help you and
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Jack while I was there. But now that I'm no
longer welcome, why should I leave it behind. There was
silence on the other end. I could hear Jack's voice
in the background, muttering something I couldn't make out. Jack says,
you had no right, she started, but I cut her off.
I had every right, I said, my voice firm. Let
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me remind you, Emily. I opened that account, I funded it,
and I made sure it was there for both of
you to use. If Jack feels entitled to that money,
that's his problem, not mine. She didn't respond, but I
could tell she was caught between defending her husband and
understanding my side. It hurt that she had to hesitate
at all. I waited for her to say something, anything,
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but all I got was I'll call you later. She
hung up, and for the first time since I'd left,
I didn't feel angry. I felt free. The days after
that phone call were strangely quiet, no texts, no follow ups, nothing.
I wasn't sure if Emily was giving me space or
if Jack had convinced her to break things off. Either way,
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I didn't reach out. I figured if she wanted to talk,
she would. I spent my time settling into a small
rental apartment I found not far from my house. It
was modest, but comfortable, and for the first time in months,
I felt like I could breathe. I wasn't walking on
eggshells or bracing myself for Jack's passive aggressive comments. Then
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a week later, I got a message from my bank.
Someone had tried to access the joint account i'd closed
after transferring the funds. My heart raised as I logged
on to check. Sure enough, it was Jack. I didn't
even have to guess. He must have thought he could
sneak back into the account and take what wasn't his.
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That same afternoon, Emily showed up unannounced at my apartment.
I was surprised to see her, but the look on
her face told me this wasn't a casual visit. Mom,
we need to talk, she said. As soon as I
opened the door. I let her in and we sat
down at the small kitchen table. She looked tired, like
she hadn't slept well in daze. Jack's mad, she started.
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He says, you're being unfair, that you're punishing us for
asking for help. Help, I said, raising an eyebrow, Emily,
I have given you more help than most parents would.
I cooked, cleaned, stayed out of your way, and paid
for things I didn't even use. And what did I
get in return? Jack kicking me out because I wouldn't
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buy him a car. Emily winced, but didn't argue. Instead,
she sighed and said, it's not about the money, mom,
it's how you handled it. You just took the money
back without saying anything. Jack feels that you betrayed us.
I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.
(09:05):
Betrayed you, Emily. He told me to go. This account
was meant to make life easier for both of you
while I was there. As soon as I was no
longer welcome, it's purpose ended. What did you think I
was going to do? Leave thousands of dollars for him
to play with? She didn't have an answer. For a moment,
I thought I saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes.
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But then she said, Jack thinks you're being spiteful, and
what do you think? I asked. The question seemed to
take her by surprise. She looked down at the table,
avoiding my gaze. I don't know, she admitted. I leaned
back in my chair, feeling a mixture of sadness and frustration. Emily,
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I love you, I always will, but I'm not going
to feel guilty about funding Jack's lifestyle or enabling his entitlement.
If you can't see that, then maybe it's time you
figured out where your priorities are. She didn't stay long
after that. When she left, I wasn't sure if I
had gotten through to her or if she was just
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retreating to avoid a confrontation. Either way, I felt a
little lighter, knowing that I'd said what needed to be said.
A few days later, Emily called again. This time her
tone was softer, almost apologetic. She said Jack wanted to
put everything behind us and invited me to dinner so
we could make up. I wasn't entirely convinced Jack didn't
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seem like the type to let things go, but I
agreed Emily was my daughter, and if there was any
chance of making things right, I owed it to her
to try. When I arrived at her house, everything felt different.
The air was thick, as if everyone was trying too
hard to pretend that nothing had happened. Jack greeted me
with an exaggerated smile and a handshake that felt about
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as real as a plastic plant. Emily seemed nervous, glancing
between us, as if waiting for someone to say the
wrong thing. The dinner itself was tense. Jack kept steering
the conversation toward money, asking how my renovations were going,
and casually dropping hints about the cost of living. It
must be hard juggling all those expenses on your own,
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he said, shoveling mashed potatoes onto his plate. I kept
my answers short, not wanting to give him an opening.
Emily tried to steer the conversation to lighter topics, but
Jack wouldn't let up. Finally, as dessert was being served,
he leaned back in his chair and said, you know,
we've been thinking a lot about family and how important
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it is to support each other. We're all adults here,
so I'm just going to say we could really use
a little help right now. There. It was the real
reason I'd been invited. I remained silent, waiting for him
to elaborate. Our car broke down. He continued, We've been
struggling without reliable transportation. Emily and I were talking about it,
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and we thought maybe you could, you know, pitchin. After all,
family helps family, right. Emily's face turned red and she
looked away, obviously uncomfortable. I could tell she didn't want
him to bring it up that way, but she didn't
stop him. I put down my fork and took a
deep breath. Jack, let me get this straight. You invited
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me here under the guise of reconciliation just to ask
me for money. His fake smile faltered. It's not like that,
he said quickly. We really do want to make things right,
but we're in a tough spot and we thought you'd understand.
I looked at Emily, hoping she'd say something, anything to
defend me, to tell him this wasn't right, but she
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just stared at her hands, as if she wanted to
be somewhere else. I stood up, my appetite completely gone.
If you needed help, Jack, the least you could have
done was be honest about it. But let me make
something very clear. I am not your at m I'm
done financing your life. Jack stuttered something about me being selfish,
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but I didn't stay to hear it. I grabbed my bag,
looked at Emily one last time, and walked out the door.
After that dinner, I didn't hear from them for a while.
I threw myself into renovating the house, which was finally
nearing completion. The kitchen was being remodeled, the bathrooms were
being updated, and the floors were being replaced. It was
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exhausting but satisfying work, and for the first time in weeks,
I felt like I was back on solid ground. Then,
out of the blue, Emily called again. She sounded cheerful,
almost too cheerful, and started off with small talk about
how I was doing and how the renovations were going.
I appreciated her effort, even if it felt a little forced.
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But then she said something that set off alarm bells.
Jack and I were thinking about how much you've been
working on the house, and we had an idea, she said.
I braced myself. What idea, Well, since your house is
going to look so amazing when it's done, Jack thought
it might be a good idea for you to sell it,
you know, downsize. That way, you'd have some extra money
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to help out, maybe even help us get a better place.
We could all benefit. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
Sell my house, the house I had spent years in,
the one I was finally fixing up to make my
own again. Also, Jack could have a better place. I laughed,
not because it was funny, but because it was absurd. Emily,
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do you hear yourself? Jack wants me to sell my
house so I can give you money. Don't you see
how ridiculous that is? She hesitated, as if she hadn't
thought it through enough to see how bad it sounded.
It's not like we're asking you to give everything away,
she said, her voice defensive. It's just that we've been struggling,
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and Jack thought this might be a way for all
of us to get ahead, all of us, I said, sharply,
or just Jack. Her silence said it all. Emily, I
love you, but this is crossing a line. I'm not
selling my house. End of discussion. She tried to save
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the conversation, but I'd had enough. I told her I
had to go and hung up, wondering once again how
my daughter had ended up with some one so selfish.
I tried to put the conversation behind me, but it
lingered in the back of my mind for days. The
audacity of Jack's proposal was astounding, and Emily's inability or
unwillingness to stand up to him hurt more than I
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cared to admit. I kept telling myself that I was
done with their drama, but part of me still hoped
that Emily would come to her senses. A week later,
as I was overseeing the final touches on my house,
painting and installing light fixtures, Emily showed up unannounced. She
looked uncomfortable, shifting on the porch, as if she wasn't
sure if she should knock. I opened the door, trying
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to suppress my frustration. What's going on, Emily, Jack thinks
we should move in with you. I stared at her,
waiting for her to laugh, to tell me she was joking.
When she didn't, I realized she meant it. You want
to move in with me? After everything. It's only temporary,
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she said quickly. The lease on our apartment is almost up,
and we've been looking at houses, but with interest rates
and down payments were stretched thin. Jack thought it would
make sense for us to stay here for a while,
just until we're back on our feet. I couldn't help
but laugh bitterly. Jack thought it would make sense. So
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what I'm supposed to finish fixing up this house that
I worked so hard to make my home again and
then just hand it over to you too, Mom. It's
not like that. She said. We would stay in the
guest room, just like you did with us, and of
course we'd help with the expenses. I couldn't believe her nerve,
or Jack's for that matter, Emily. I don't mean to
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be cruel, but let's be honest. Jack doesn't want to
help out. He wants to take advantage again, and if
you can't see that, I don't know what else to say.
Her face fell. It's not fair for you to keep
blaming Jack. He's under a lot of pressure and we're
just trying to figure things out. No, Emily, I said firmly.
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What's not fair is for him to keep expecting me
to bail you out while he treats me like I'm
some kind of burden. I'm sorry you're struggling, but you
can't keep running to me every time things get tough.
It's time for you and Jack to figure this out
on your own. We left without saying much more, and
as I closed the door, I felt a pang of guilt,
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but I reminded myself that sometimes love means setting boundaries
even when it hurts. A few weeks later, Jack called
me directly. His tone was unusual, cheerful, almost casual, as
he invited me to dinner. He said it was time
to put it all behind us, and implied that Emily
had missed me. I wasn't convinced this was all about reconciliation,
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but I agreed to go. When I got there, Emily
greeted me warmly, and Jack was unusually polite, even friendly.
Dinner began well enough. We talked about my house, their work,
and little things like movies and hobbies. For a while,
it almost felt as if the tension of the past
few weeks had melted away. But as the plates were cleared,
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Jack shifted the conversation. So we've been dealing with a
lot lately, he began looking at Emily. The car finally
broke down completely, and with the rent going up, it's
been hard to stay afloat. I said nothing, just waiting
for him to get to the point. He sighed and
leaned forward. We were wondering if you could help us out,
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just this once, a little alone, to get us back
on our feet. Nothing big. You've got the house all
finished now, and you're in such a good position financially,
it wouldn't have to be much. I turned to Emily,
hoping she'd speak up, but she remained silent, staring down
at her plate as if she weren't part of the conversation.
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I took a deep breath, Jack, I said, you invited
me to dinner to ask for money, didn't you. This
isn't about a settlement, It's about what I can do
for you. He tried to back out. No, no, it's
not like that. We've just thought since your family, I've
helped more than enough, I said, cutting him off. I
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gave you money, paid for expenses, and did everything I
could to make things easier for you. And how have
you repaid me by kicking me out and treating me
like I owe you. I'm tired of being taken advantage of.
Emily finally spoke up, her voice soft, Mom, were just desperate.
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Jack didn't mean for it to sound like that, Emily
I said, I love you, but you're going to have
to figure this out without me. I've given everything I can.
You need to start standing on your own. I got up,
grabbed my bag, and left. As I walked out the door,
I realized something. I wasn't angry any more. I was
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just done.