After my dad passed, my husband Jason, our daughter Emma, my stepmother Lorraine, and I all lived together in his house.
A few weeks ago, while putting Jason’s clothes away, I spotted a box hidden in his closet. Inside was a sheer lace robe. Assuming it was a surprise for me, I didn’t mention it.
Fast forward to last weekend. Lorraine called me into her room, grinning smugly.
“Oh, sweetheart, you won’t believe what MY NEW BOYFRIEND got me,” she said.
When I walked in, my jaw hit the floor. She was wearing the lace robe from Jason’s closet.
“You like it?” she asked, smirking. “He has exquisite taste.” Her eyes sparkled with malice.
I froze, my head spinning. Was Jason cheating on me? With HER? I managed to stammer, “Where did you get that?”
Lorraine’s smirk deepened. “Oh, my boyfriend gave it to me,” she said casually.
I stumbled out of her room, her laughter echoing behind me. My heart pounded, hands shaking.
That night, I confronted Jason.
“Did you… Did you give Lorraine a robe? The lace one I found in your closet?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“What? No way! What are you talking about?” Jason looked utterly confused. “You think I’d buy her something like that? Are you serious right now?”
“Then how did she get it?” I demanded.
“I don’t know,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “The only thing I’ve given Lorraine today was a piece of garlic bread at dinner.”
Doubt gnawed at me for days. Then, one afternoon, as I was organizing Emma’s art supplies in the dining room, I overheard Lorraine on the phone.
“Yes, Kerry, of course, I planted it,” she whispered. “That idiot husband of hers didn’t even notice. It’s only a matter of time before they’re at each other’s throats. Once they leave, this house will finally be mine. I’m telling you, that’s why they moved in. They want my house.”
She had planned this! She’d planted the robe in Jason’s closet to make it look like they were having an affair. She wanted to drive us out of the house my dad had left behind.
That night, I told Jason everything I’d overheard. His face darkened with anger.
“She’s trying to ruin our marriage,” he said. “And to think that we uprooted Emma for this? This ends now.”
We hatched a plan.
The next morning, during breakfast, I casually mentioned to Lorraine that Jason and I were considering moving out. Her face lit up.
“Oh, well, if you think that’s best…” she said, barely containing her glee.
That evening, we invited a lawyer friend over for dinner, someone Lorraine didn’t recognize. We introduced him as a realtor helping us look for new homes. Lorraine spent most of the dinner gushing about how much she preferred to live alone.
“I’m old now,” she said. “I need my space. And I’m sure you kids need yours. Don’t you want to give Emma a baby brother or sister?”
Jason had persuaded me to fight.
“Come on, honey,” he said. “It’s important for you to have a piece of your father’s legacy. You are his legacy, yes. But he built this with his hands. This home has been around since you were a child. You want Lorraine to have it, really?”
A week later, we called a “family meeting” in the living room.
Jason handed Lorraine a stack of papers.
“What’s this?” she asked, flipping through the pages.
“It’s the deed to the house,” Jason said calmly. “We had it reviewed, and it turns out that Calla and I are the primary beneficiaries. You don’t own this house, Lorraine. We do.”
Lorraine’s face went pale.
“That’s not possible. Calla! What did you do? Your father would never leave me with nothing…”
“He didn’t leave you with nothing, Lorraine,” I said. “He left you with a lot of money. But this is my childhood home. Of course, he’d want me to have it.”
Lorraine started to protest.
“And before you think about pulling another stunt, know this: we’re not going anywhere. But you might want to start packing,” Jason said.
“Or you can see if your boyfriend will take you in?” I added nonchalantly.
Lorraine stammered.
“What? There’s no boyfriend?” I asked, feigning surprise.
“I planned that! I staged the entire thing! There is no boyfriend, Calla. There is no cheating, which is what I wanted you to think. I wanted you to see the robe and know that… or think that something was going on.”
“I know,” I said. “I overheard you. But look, you have a week. I’ll give you that because it’s what my father would expect from me.”
“I’ll be better,” Lorraine pleaded.
But it was too late. She had underestimated me for the last time.