My son promised to take care of me, then gave me to my daughter-in-law, 
who left me in a nursing home like a forgotten luggage. That’s when I knew: if they played dirty, I could do it too.
I hadn’t been young for a long time, but that day I didn’t feel it in the mirror, but on my fingers, when I couldn’t open a jar of pickles.
“Well, Linda. You’re not twenty anymore. Not even forty. Do you know what’s worse? Admit that you need help.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
I never liked to ask for things. Especially to Thomas. He was a good son, honestly. Only… I was always busy.
But I was tired of pretending to be the strong and independent woman.
When pickles become your enemy, it’s time to speak clearly.
“Thomas,” I told him on the phone that same afternoon, “I need help.”
“Mom, is everything okay?”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“I’m getting older. I need someone nearby. Just in case.”
“Maybe we should move in with you?”
“Do you mean you, Amber and little Nick?”
“Yes. But you know how old the house is, mom. I’m not against it, but it’s a lot. The baby, Amber’s job…”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“I understand,” I said after a pause. “But if the house were yours, it wouldn’t be just a burden, it would be your home.”
“Do you want to give it to me?”
“I want you to be the man of the house. That you make the decisions. But on one condition.”
“What kind of condition?”
“If something ever happens… You won’t abandon me, will you?”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
“Mom, come on. Of course not. You are my mother. I’ll talk to Amber.”
Somewhere deep in my chest, something stirred. A silent bell of doubt. About Amber. I ignored it.
We signed the papers in a week. I thought we would be together again. A family. Under the same roof.
And then Thomas went on a long business trip…
And life became unbearable.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
I still remember the exact phrase that Thomas said before leaving:
“Mom, please don’t argue with Amber. She’s a little tired. Just like you. Try to find common ground.”
The first two days, somehow we stayed together. I baked small cakes. I even offered to prepare broth for the little one.
“No-no,” Amber wrinkled her nose. “We follow a gluten-free diet. And the baby eats intuitively.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“Choose what you want. Yesterday he ate pineapple from a pizza.”
I didn’t answer. I just put the cakes in the freezer.
On the third day, she began to “train the grandmother.” Amber burst into my room without knocking and let out a theatrical sigh.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“Oh, I told Thomas otherwise. He’s worried.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Amber smiled coldly. “It’s just a slightly polished version of reality. You need professional help.”
“Amber, what are you saying? I’m perfectly lucid.”
For days, I heard her whispering on the phone. I heard a conversation by chance… and that was the last straw.
“Nene, he left our son in the playground! I barely arrived on time. Yes, now I understand. It’s not just age. It’s the decline. It’s dangerous.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
I went out into the hallway.
“What?! I was right there! You’re lying, Amber! And you know it.”
Suddenly, everything turned around me. I clung to the wall and, for a moment, the world turned black. When I came back to myself, the doctors were nearby and Amber was preparing my suitcase.
“We’re leaving. It’s time to retire. Everything is fixed.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“But I don’t want to leave my house!”
“This is no longer your house.”
“But… Thomas promised…”.
“I already talked to Thomas. He thinks you need full-time care while he’s away. And I’ll make sure you have them.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Forty minutes later, she was sitting in a nursing home, watching Amber put bills in the pocket of the administrator’s jacket. Hundred dollar bills. Well folded. I got up, clinging to the little dignity I had left.
“I’m taking care of you,” Amber replied sweetly. “I just… put you in good hands.”
Then he leaned more to whisper,
“I finally got rid of you.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
My eyes filled with tears. I knew he had never liked it. But that cold and calculated cruelty…
“Why, Amber? I gave you the house. We are family.”
“Exactly. You gave it up… and you lost it.”
He left, winking at the administrator, who was already rolling a wheelchair towards me.
My family had betrayed me. But my revenge story had only just begun.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
That night, I sat in the common room, without thinking about anything. Suddenly, someone sneezed loudly behind me.
“You haven’t changed anything. You’re still the same Linda: your back straight and that ‘don’t mess with me’ look.”
I turned around. And I was paralyzed.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
My childhood friend, whom I hadn’t seen in years, smiled at me.
“In flesh and blood. And for the rest rest, I am a co-owner of the place. It’s funny where love for the elderly can take you.”
I studied his face. The same smile.
“What are you doing here?”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
“I make the best coffee within a fifteen-kilometer radius. And from time to time I meet old friends who have been abandoned here under the label of ‘rest and recovery’.”
“So… have you seen everything?”
“You mean your lovely daughter-in-law putting money in the pocket of the nurse’s robe? Yes. I’ll fire her tomorrow.” He shook his head. “What a loving family you have.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
I sighed and sank further into the chair.
“They just abandoned me. They didn’t even try to pretend it was something else.”
“You know what? I like how you kept quiet. You endured the blow. You didn’t collapse.”
I smiled. For the first time in days.
“Joe, I just took a break. Because the second act is coming.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
“I love a good drama. If you need a partner in crime, I’m in.”
“Two, actually. One is from the prom. It could fit on my right leg.”
“Perfect. We will start with a transformation. And an order to AliExpress.”
“Oh, now you’ve been curious. What’s next?”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
“A delicious little lie. For people who think they’re too smart.”
Joseph went to make coffee and, for the first time in a long time, I felt something stirring inside me… Fun. Emotion.
We used to be very good at jokes to our parents. And at that moment I knew that Joe could be the perfect companion for what he had in mind.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
After a week in the nursing home, I officially disappeared from the radar. Joe offered me to go live with him, to his spacious house with garden, pool and a kitchen in good condition. I accepted without hesitation.
Being with Joe sat me… well.
Thomas called me several times, asked me how I was. But then he stopped doing it. He received all his “updates” from the residence.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Meanwhile, Joe and I were preparing a plan. A small and elegant performance… for a very “affectionate” family.
“Look at this,” I said, holding a box in my hands. “It’s already here!”
“How long did it take to get there?” Joe leaned towards me.
“Ten days. But it was worth it. Look…”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
I opened the box and together we took out a giant check that read:
“National Seniors’ Lottery – $1,000,000 WINNER”.
“It’s officially the funniest thing I’ve seen in the last thirty years,” Joe laughed. “It seems real.”
“Do you know what one really looks like?”
“Me neither. But neither do they.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
“Wait, what’s that hologram in the corner?”
“Oh, it’s a sticker from a ‘Unicorn in Space’ set. But from a distance, it seems very legitimate.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“I know a guy at a rental site. He owes me a favor from when I returned his wife,” he winked at me. “It’s a long story.”
“Then get something daring.”
“To match your lipstick?”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
We spent the next hour preparing the scene: angular lighting, the check perfectly supported, me smiling just enough to look happy. We took a picture with the lottery check and sent it to my son.
Along with an invitation to dinner. The dinner in which we planned to give life to our little masterpiece.
The doorbell rang at 18:58 sharp. Just in time.
I adjusted the pearl earrings in the mirror in the hallway and gave myself a quick review.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Sora
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Sora
Rented dress: impressive. Hair: perfect. Lipstick: red.
Joe poked his head out of the kitchen.
“They’re already here. Is it time for the show?”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“Mom?! What… what is this place?”
“Oh, just something we acquire after winning,” I said lightly, stepping aside. “Come in.”
Amber’s eyes ran through the lobby: marble tiles, golden framed mirror, a slight smell of wealth. Thomas blinked.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Joe came in just in time with a tray of drinks and that perfect poker face he had been practicing.
“Of course! I’m Joe, her future husband, according to the tabloid press.”
Amber’s eyebrows flinched. Thomas almost choked on his welcome drink. I smiled sweetly.
“Well, you know that lottery prizes usually speed up relationships.”
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
We sat around the dining room table: candlelight, linen napkins, roasted salmon and enough jazz in the background to say: we are rich. Amber couldn’t stop smiling. Or blink. Or to laugh fomed.
“This… this is incredible. You look fantastic, Linda. Really. Money suits you well.”
“I think it’s just love.”
Thomas cleared his throat. “I… I’m glad you’re okay, Mom. You know. After all.”
“Yes. After all,” I repeated.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Joe gently knocked on his glass. “Well, since we’re all here, Linda and I have a little surprise.”
I put my hand under the table and took out two envelopes. Thick. Heavy. Elegant.
“We wanted to give you something. A gift. After all, you took care of me so much… when I needed it most.”
I gave Thomas the first envelope. Amber snatched it from him before he could blink. He opened it and his eyes widened.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
“Is this… the writing? From this house?”
“And from the car,” Joe added, giving him the keys.
He exclaimed. “My God. Linda… we… this is so generous.”
“Well,” I smiled. “There’s only one thing.”
I slid the second envelope towards him.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“Just a little formality. A simple signature. To give me back my old house. For sentimental reasons.”
Amber glanced at the room. The crystal glasses. The chandelier. The illusion. He looked at Thomas.
“Honey… It’s just paperwork. I mean… look at this place.”
Thomas swallowed saliva. Then he nodded. And he signed. I folded the papers neatly and put them in the bag.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
“Good. Now that everything is arranged… who wants dessert?”
Joe raised the glass and smiled. “For second chances. Especially for people smart enough to fake a millionaire lottery just to get their house back.”
Amber let out a nervous chuckle and suddenly remembered that I had a yoga class early in the morning. Thomas muttered something about the traffic.
They left in exactly fourteen minutes. Fifteen, if you count the uncomfortable hug at the door.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Pexels
The following week, I moved back to my house. Joe and I didn’t rush. We continue to go out like two teenagers with some more problems in the knees and much better wine.
As for Amber and Thomas… well, they learned a valuable lesson. In the end, Thomas filed for a divorce. And to my surprise, it began to change. I started seeing my grandson on weekends.
Sometimes life gives you lemons. Other times, a fake lottery check and a second chance to live exactly as you want. And me? I chose life.
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
Image for illustrative purposes | Photo: Midjourney
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