My Daughter Texted Me: “For Christmas, We’re Keeping It Very Small—Just Immediate Family.” I Replied, “No Problem. Have Fun.” What She Didn’t Know Was-I Had Just Moved Into My Brand New $22 Million Mansion. When One Of My Guests Posted Photos Online, My Phone Rang 59 Times. “Mom, Please Call Me Back…”

I set down my spoon and folded my hands in my lap. “And that’s fine, Andrew. You’re not obligated to like your mother-in-law.

But don’t pretend this sudden interest in family bonding has nothing to do with my change in circumstances.”

“You’re being unfair,” Melanie said, her voice stronger now. “Yes, I was surprised about the inheritance, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“Love?”

I smiled, and I’m sure it wasn’t entirely pleasant. “Melanie, do you remember last Christmas?”

“Of course.”

“Where did I sit?”

She hesitated.

“What do you mean?”

“Where did you seat me for Christmas dinner?”

The hesitation stretched longer. Patricia was now watching with the fascination of someone witnessing a perfectly executed diplomatic maneuver. “You sat at the dining room table,” Melanie said finally.

“Did I? Because I remember sitting at a card table in the kitchen while the important adults—your husband’s family—ate in the dining room. I remember you apologizing to his mother for the chaos of having too many people, as if my presence was an inconvenience you had to manage.”

Melany’s face went white.

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