Off The Record
When I Got Home, I Found My Daughter Sleeping Under The Stairs In The Basement. My Mil Paid So Much For This
You do realize that in-laws are there to make life easier? Not in my situation, anyway. This is the tale of how I exacted revenge on Linda, who believed she could get away with mistreating Tessa, my oldest daughter.
I have two daughters. Tessa, from my first marriage, is ten years old. She always tries to satisfy everyone and is calm and kind. My current spouse, Grant, and I have a 4-year-old daughter named Sadie. Sadie, on the other hand, is vivacious and inquisitive. Although Grant loves both girls, his mother Linda has a different opinion on Tessa.
How should I phrase this? Linda is. She is the kind of lady who demands that everything appear flawless from the outside. However, if you go deeper, you’ll discover someone who is judgmental and aloof, particularly toward Tessa. What’s the worst? The reason for this is because Tessa is not Grant’s “real” daughter.
I attempted to maintain harmony for years. Grant would say, “She’s just old-fashioned,” “She’ll come around.” However, she never did. Linda made a few jabs at Tessa.
Bless her heart, Tessa never voiced any complaints. Perhaps believing it was her fault, she simply remained silent. However, I did see it. I heard it. And each time, it infuriated me. Grant? I saw it differently than he did. He felt his mother was just being her eccentric self, and he adored her. However, I was aware.
At times, it was a mocking remark about her appearance. “Oh, Tessa, that dress is a little too grown-up for you, don’t you think?” Or she might give Sadie presents while feigning to forget Tessa’s birthday.
After my mother died, everything began to fall apart, and I felt as though the earth had been torn out from beneath me. No notice, no opportunity to bid farewell. I can’t even begin to explain how my heart felt broken. I was so distraught that I was having trouble breathing.
The last thing I could manage was having to travel out of state for the burial. We had to keep the girls in mind even if every minute was a whirlwind of sadness. The sorrow clouded my mind so much that it felt impossible to make even the tiniest decisions.
Of all people, Linda offered to keep an eye on them while we were away. I didn’t want that at all. I had a gut feeling that Tessa wouldn’t feel at ease with her, and I detested the thought of abandoning her for someone who had never treated her fairly.
However, what option did I have? All of our close friends were preoccupied with their own lives, and I was drowning in sorrow. I felt so powerless and alone. Either leave the girls with Linda or find another way, which at the time seemed unattainable. I accepted against all my instincts.
After three long days, we finally pulled into the driveway. The silence in the home was unsettling, almost too silent. As I got out of the car, I noticed an odd weight in my chest. “Took Sadie to the park,” Linda had written on the counter. Return later.
I felt a knot in my stomach. There was a strange feeling. “Where’s Tessa?” I grumbled as I looked around the house. I called her name, but she didn’t respond. I felt a chill go down my spine and my heart increase.
I became aware of it at that point. A little light flickered from the window in the basement. Confused, I came to a halt. Nobody goes down there. We hardly even ventured down the ancient, dirty, junk-filled cellar. For a moment, fear took over. Was there a break-in? While we were away, did robbers break into the basement?
As I reached for my phone and turned on the camera in case I needed proof, my heart was hammering in my ears. I wanted to record it if anyone was down there. The musty smell rushed up to meet me as I carefully opened the cellar door, feeling my breath catch.
In an attempt to calm myself, I shook my hands as I pressed record and started to creep down the stairs. Every sound was magnified in the uncanny quiet as the wooden steps groaned beneath my feet.
Finally, as the sun brightened, I caught sight of Tessa. Wrapped in an old blanket and curled up on the cold, hard floor, my darling girl fell asleep as if she had been forgotten. Her face was pallid, her cheeks were smeared with dried tears, and her tiny body remained still.
“Tessa?” I hurried to her side and murmured. My heart was exploding as I gave her a gentle shake. “Sweetheart, what are you doing down here?”
She sat up, appearing so tiny and defeated as her eyes sprung wide. She said, “Grandma Linda told me to sleep here,” in a voice that was hardly audible. “She said Sadie is her real granddaughter, and I shouldn’t get in the way.”
I went cold. The room whirled around me. “She what?” I questioned, my voice trembling with anger and incredulity.
Tessa said, “She didn’t want me around,” as her lower lip quivered. “She refused to let me join Sadie for supper, but she did let me sleep down here.” They need “special time,” she remarked.
Anger was rushing through my veins, and I could feel my blood boiling. I curled my hands into fists and tried to speak in a calm voice. Could she? How could Linda harm my child in this way?
However, I didn’t blow up. Knowing that rushing over to Linda wouldn’t resolve the situation at hand, I forced myself to control my anger. I put my arms around Tessa and drew her in. “Tessa,” I said in a hushed, emotional voice, “I’m really, really sorry. This will never, ever occur once more.”
Linda had gone too far. And she didn’t know what was in store for her.
The only thing I wanted to do was drive to Linda’s place and vent to her. However, I stopped myself. I understood that simply facing her would not suffice. I had to make sure she felt the consequences of her actions. And I knew just how to go about it.
Linda took great satisfaction in her yearly family gathering. In her well-kept backyard, she hosted an annual gathering of her close friends and extended family. She had the opportunity to flaunt herself and pretend to be the head of a flawless household.
Later that day, when Linda brought Sadie back, I didn’t show that anything was amiss. Despite the fact that my blood was boiling beneath the surface, I grinned and thanked her for keeping an eye on the girls. “I’ve been thinking,” I added in a lighthearted manner, “maybe I could assist you this year with the reunion. I am aware that it is a lot of labor.”
Her expression brightened. “That would be fantastic! There’s a lot to deal with, and the more assistance, the better.”
Excellent. She didn’t know what I was thinking.
I worked closely with Linda to organize the reunion over the course of the following few weeks. I planted seeds with family members while acting as though everything was good between us. During casual chats, I would bring up Tessa’s recent feelings of exclusion.
I would say that attending the funeral was difficult, particularly for Tessa, who had to spend the night in the basement. Regretfully, Linda desired some privacy with Sadie.
Shock, worry, and a few raised eyebrows were the exact reactions I had hoped for. They’d question in disbelieving tones, “The basement?” “That’s awful.” By the time the reunion day arrived, rumors regarding Linda’s treatment of Tessa were already circulating like wildfire.
Linda was in full hostess gear on the day of the reunion. The smell of grilling food filled the air, the backyard was spotless, and the tables were arranged with her best dishes. Friends and family began to arrive, smiling and giving each other embraces. Linda played the part of the ideal host and reveled in the praise.
The slideshow, the day’s high point, followed. I had painstakingly assembled a collection of pictures from recent family vacations that featured the girls having fun, laughing, and playing. However, I intercut some of the video I shot of Tessa curled up on the cellar floor between those joyful recollections.
The air instantly changed. From appreciating the adorable pictures, people started to gasp in surprise. I could hear the whispers catching on like wildfire in the throng. Someone murmured, “Is that Tessa in the basement?” “Why would she be down there?”
There was nothing I needed to say. The pictures were self-explanatory.
When Linda realized what was occurring, her smile vanished. Her eyes were darting around, attempting to determine how the crowd would respond. As others started to approach her with inquiries and demands for explanations, her hands trembled uneasily. Trying to dismiss it as a misunderstanding, she mumbled, but it was too late. The damage was already done.
Linda made an effort to defend herself, but nobody was listening. She was aware that her reputation as the ideal hostess and grandmother was in tatters. Who else in the family? Now they recognized her for who she truly was.
I took a step back and watched it all happen with enjoyment. I said to Tessa, who was clutching my hand, in a whisper, “No one will ever treat you like that.”
Since that day, Linda hasn’t communicated with me, but really? That’s only the icing on the cake.
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