We need your three-bedroom house for New Year’s weekend. My whole family is flying in from out of state.
My mother-in-law, Victoria Vance, didn’t even drop her handbag onto the entryway table before barking the order at me.
She walked straight into my living room, adjusted her coat, and looked around the place as if she were inspecting a rental property she had just purchased.
I sat down the tray of tea mugs I was carrying from the kitchen, wiped my hands on a towel, and looked at her in mild disbelief.
“Victoria, Jordan and I have plans for New Year’s weekend,” I said calmly. “We’re staying home. It’s our anniversary weekend, and we decided months ago to have a quiet 4 days off together.”
Toriia let out a short, dismissive scoff, and turned to my husband of 3 years, Jordan.
Jordan was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, and immediately tense when his mother looked his way.
“Jordan, tell your wife how this works,” Victoria said, her tone sharp and unyielding. “My sister, her husband, their four grown children, and two grandchildren are all coming into town.”
“That’s 10 people total. My small two-bedroom condo cannot hold 10 people.”
“Your house has three bedrooms, a finished basement, and a huge kitchen.”
“It’s perfect.”
“Mom.” Jordan started clearing his throat nervously. “We were really planning on just staying in.”
“Nonsense,” Victoria interrupted, waving her hand aggressively in the air. “You and Sandra can just rent an Airbnb for the weekend or go stay at a hotel downtown. You two have plenty of money.”
“My family is coming to celebrate, and we need this house from Thursday afternoon until Monday morning. It’s already decided.”
I stood by the kitchen counter looking at this woman who had made a habit of treating our home like her personal hospitality center ever since Jordan and I got married.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t throw a tantrum.
I simply looked Victoria dead in the eye and offered a short three-word response.
“I’m away.”