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\u201cYour mother is stuck in a hospital bed for ten days and you are seriously going to leave that gorgeous apartment sitting empty? What an absolute waste!\u201d<\/p>\n
Those were the very first words out of my husband\u2019s mouth as the paramedics carefully carried my mother down the flight of stairs. He did not ask if I was okay, nor did he ask if my mother was in pain.<\/p>\n
\n
My mother, Irene, had been doubled over for nearly an hour with excruciating, sharp pains just beneath her ribs. She was ghostly pale, sweating profusely, and could barely gasp out a coherent sentence. I held her bag of medical documents tightly while one of the paramedics explained that we needed to get her to the emergency room immediately.<\/p>\n
My husband, Brandon, was still standing lazily by the open front door without a hint of concern on his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire\u2026 what about dinner?\u201d he called out casually.<\/p>\n
I stared at him in utter disbelief, wondering if I had somehow misheard his selfish question.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere are enchiladas in the refrigerator,\u201d I snapped back, adjusting my coat. \u201cPut them in the microwave and press start, because I trust you can survive on your own for one night.\u201d<\/p>\n
I slammed the door behind me and ran down the stairs to follow the ambulance.<\/p>\n
After several agonizing hours of blood tests, medication, and thorough examinations, the attending physician finally reassured us. My mother had a severe case of gallbladder inflammation, and while she did not need emergency surgery right away, she would have to stay admitted in the hospital for at least ten days.<\/p>\n
When I was finally able to sit down in the quiet waiting area, my phone began to vibrate. It was my mother-in-law, Gertrude.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, sweet Claire, what a terrible tragedy,\u201d Gertrude said, her voice dripping with dramatic sympathy. \u201cBrandon already filled me in on everything, so how is poor Irene doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her selfless concern lasted for exactly twenty seconds before her true motives emerged.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo\u2026 what is going to happen with her apartment while she is stuck there?\u201d she asked smoothly.<\/p>\n
I felt a sudden, icy chill creep down my spine as I listened to her voice.<\/p>\n
My mother lived alone in a spacious, light-filled three-bedroom apartment in the charming Historic District of Richmond. The place had massive windows overlooking a lush green park, and she had just spent her entire life savings remodeling every single room. Gertrude had always envied that apartment and talked about it far too much.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe apartment is locked up,\u201d I replied guardedly.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have the spare keys with you?\u201d Gertrude inquired.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I do,\u201d I said, keeping my answers as brief as possible.<\/p>\n
There was an odd, calculating silence on the other end of the line.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am only asking because empty apartments get pipe leaks or attract burglars,\u201d Gertrude claimed smoothly. \u201cIt would be much better if someone stayed there to keep an eye on things.\u201d<\/p>\n
I knew right then that she did not care about pipe leaks or burglars at all.<\/p>\n
On Saturday morning, Brandon woke up with an unusual burst of energy that he never displayed for his actual job.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mom has that massive, beautiful apartment sitting completely empty over in Richmond,\u201d he said casually while I poured myself a cup of coffee. \u201cSomeone really ought to go over there and check on it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am already planning to go check on it,\u201d I replied, setting the coffeepot down.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I mean\u2026 someone should actually stay there for a few days,\u201d he clarified with a tight smile.<\/p>\n
I set my coffee cup down on the table and looked him straight in the eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho exactly are you talking about, Brandon?\u201d I asked sharply.<\/p>\n
Brandon suddenly found the kitchen floor extremely fascinating and avoided looking at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, my mom has been having trouble breathing lately,\u201d he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. \u201cShe claims there is way too much dust and noise in her current neighborhood, whereas the air over by the park is much cleaner.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him in total shock, unable to comprehend his sheer audacity.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you honestly suggesting that your mother move into my mom\u2019s apartment while she is suffering in a hospital bed?\u201d I asked, my voice rising.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot to live there permanently!\u201d he protested quickly. \u201cJust to rest for a little while, and besides, she could even clean the place up for your mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbsolutely not,\u201d I said firmly.<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire, please be reasonable\u2026\u201d he began to plead.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I cut him off coldly. \u201cIt is my mother\u2019s home, not a free hotel for your family.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon made the same childish, pouting face he always made whenever he did not get his way, then locked himself in the bedroom to talk on the phone.<\/p>\n
I visited my mother on Sunday afternoon, and she was already feeling much better and complaining about the bland hospital food.<\/p>\n
\u201cTomorrow, when you get off work, please swing by my place,\u201d she requested gently. \u201cBring me the paperback novel on my nightstand and the blue folder where I keep my utility receipts.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI promise I will bring them tomorrow evening,\u201d I assured her before giving her a hug.<\/p>\n
That night, as I walked into our hallway after grabbing takeout, a small detail caught my attention. The wooden owl keyring was missing from the small entryway cabinet where we kept extra household items. That was where I kept the spare key to my mother\u2019s apartment.<\/p>\n
I marched directly into the living room to confront Brandon.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are the keys to my mother\u2019s apartment?\u201d I demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich keys are you talking about?\u201d he asked, trying to sound completely innocent.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not play mind games with me, Brandon,\u201d I warned him.<\/p>\n
He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back against the couch.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine, I grabbed them because I went over there to air out the rooms for a little bit,\u201d he claimed.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive them back to me right now,\u201d I said, extending my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI will give them to you tomorrow,\u201d he grumbled.<\/p>\n
I stepped over to his jacket hanging on the chair and checked the pocket where he claimed he had put them, but it was entirely empty. At that exact moment, the full reality of the situation hit me. Brandon had not gone over there to air out any rooms. He had stolen the key and handed it directly to his mother.<\/p>\n
While my mother was lying in a hospital bed, my mother-in-law was likely walking through her private home as if she owned the place.<\/p>\n
I did not scream at him, nor did I start a massive argument. I simply walked into the bathroom, turned on the sink faucet so Brandon would not hear me, and searched for a specific phone number.<\/p>\n
There was only one person in this world whom Gertrude feared more than a lawsuit or a bank debt. That person was her opinionated sister-in-law, Aunt Beatrice.<\/p>\n
I dialed the number and waited as it rang.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d a booming voice answered.<\/p>\n
I smiled wickedly to myself in the bathroom mirror.<\/p>\n
\u201cAunt Beatrice, it is Claire,\u201d I said sweetly. \u201cI think I just found you a completely free place to stay in town.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a sudden silence on the other end of the line before a loud laugh echoed through the speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you say free lodging, sweetie?\u201d Aunt Beatrice asked with great delight.<\/p>\n
\u201cGertrude is going to be staying at another apartment for a while, so her place is left completely unattended,\u201d I explained carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd her entire house is just sitting there empty?\u201d Aunt Beatrice asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cCompletely empty,\u201d I confirmed.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, God really does help those who help themselves!\u201d Aunt Beatrice cheered. \u201cI actually have to travel into town tomorrow anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is perfect timing,\u201d I replied. \u201cDo you still happen to have those spare house keys Gertrude left with you two years ago?\u201d<\/p>\n
Aunt Beatrice paused for a couple of seconds as she thought about it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI still have them right here in my purse,\u201d she declared triumphantly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen everything is resolved,\u201d I said, holding back a laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am bringing my adult son, Toby, along with me because he is looking for work in the city,\u201d she added.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, bring him along,\u201d I agreed readily. \u201cJust remember that Gertrude must not know you have arrived until you are fully settled in because I want to give her a big surprise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can leave everything to me, darling,\u201d she promised before hanging up.<\/p>\n
Aunt Beatrice lived out in the countryside near Culpeper and was precisely the kind of overwhelming person Gertrude could not stand. She spoke loudly, asked intrusive questions about everything, touched personal belongings, and had a habit of arriving for two days and staying for two full weeks. Whenever she traveled into the city to sell her homemade preserves and fresh produce, she brought enough massive bags to supply an entire restaurant. Three years ago, she had stayed at Gertrude\u2019s house for a single weekend, and Gertrude still talked about it as if she had survived a natural disaster.<\/p>\n
On Monday morning, before heading into my office, I drove over to the regional bus terminal. Aunt Beatrice was already waiting for me on the curb surrounded by three massive sacks, two wooden boxes, a sealed plastic bucket, and her thirty-year-old son, Toby, who looked strong enough to lift a vehicle by himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you have inside that giant sack?\u201d I asked, pointing to the largest bag.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifty pounds of fresh onions!\u201d Aunt Beatrice announced proudly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd inside the sealed bucket?\u201d I asked carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cPickled hot peppers in vinegar,\u201d she beamed.<\/p>\n
I decided it was much wiser not to ask any more questions about her luggage.<\/p>\n
At noon, I sent Brandon a quick text message from my desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cToday, at six o\u2019clock, I am going to my mother\u2019s apartment to pick up her blue folder and her paperback novel.\u201d<\/p>\n
He replied in less than twenty seconds.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not bother going over there. I will go pick them up and bring them to you later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you, but I prefer to go myself,\u201d I replied instantly.<\/p>\n
My cell phone immediately started ringing with his incoming call, but I simply ignored it and let it ring.<\/p>\n
At twenty minutes to six, I arrived at my mother\u2019s apartment building in the Historic District. I walked up to the third floor and unlocked the front door using my original spare key, a copy that Brandon had no idea existed.<\/p>\n
Before I even stepped across the threshold, I smelled a sickeningly sweet floral perfume that confirmed Gertrude was inside. Loud classical music was playing from the stereo in the living room, and I spotted two large open suitcases sitting right in the middle of the hallway.<\/p>\n
I walked straight into the main bedroom and had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming.<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s personal clothes were piled up in messy heaps on top of the bed. Her delicate dresses had been pulled off their hangers, and in their place hung bright blouses, sequined jackets, and Gertrude\u2019s colorful designer dresses. Gertrude herself was wearing a velvet tracksuit while aggressively emptying my mother\u2019s vanity drawers.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood afternoon, Gertrude,\u201d I said coolly from the doorway.<\/p>\n
She jumped in surprise, clutching her chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire! What on earth are you doing here?\u201d she gasped, clutching her heart.<\/p>\n
\u201cI could ask you the exact same question,\u201d I replied calmly.<\/p>\n
Gertrude quickly recovered her usual arrogance and straightened her back.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon gave me explicit permission to stay here,\u201d she declared smoothly.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon is not the owner of this apartment,\u201d I reminded her sharpely.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, please do not exaggerate,\u201d Gertrude scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. \u201cIrene is stuck in a hospital bed, so leaving this place empty was a complete waste. Besides, I desperately need some peace and quiet for my lungs.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gestured to the piles of clothes scattered all over the bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you strip my mother\u2019s personal belongings out of her own closet?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Gertrude made a contemptuous gesture with her hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause her things take up far too much closet space,\u201d she answered casually. \u201cI was planning to put her clothes into cardboard boxes and store them in the basement locker so I could be comfortable while staying here.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she uttered a sentence that made my blood run cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cBesides, Claire, we have to be practical adults here,\u201d she said condescendingly. \u201cYour mother is getting quite old, and nobody knows how much longer she will even be able to live alone in a place like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood completely motionless in the center of the room. My mother had been hospitalized for merely three days, and this ruthless woman was already speaking about her home as if she were waiting to claim an inheritance.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that honestly how you see things?\u201d I asked, my voice trembling slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not be so dramatic,\u201d Gertrude snapped, turning back to the closet. \u201cJust gather your mother\u2019s stupid paperwork and leave, because Brandon is waiting for his dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled my smartphone out of my coat pocket.<\/p>\n
\u201cFirst, I want to show you a quick video clip,\u201d I said smoothly.<\/p>\n
I opened a short video message that Aunt Beatrice had sent me just twenty minutes prior and turned the volume all the way up. Aunt Beatrice\u2019s smiling face filled the screen, and behind her, I immediately recognized Gertrude\u2019s decorated living room.<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire, sweetie! We made it inside!\u201d Aunt Beatrice\u2019s loud voice boomed from the speaker. \u201cPlease tell Gertrude thank you so much for letting us stay at her lovely house!\u201d<\/p>\n