I never thought that my affluent daughter-in-law’s elegant dinner invitation would become a nightmare. However, I knew I had to give her a lesson she would never forget when she left me with a $5,375 bill; I was simply unsure of how it would turn out.
I’m Ruth, and I recently put down my chalk after 40 years as a teacher. Veronica, the wife of my son Michael, invited me out to celebrate. She’s this supermodel lawyer, complete with power lunches and beautiful outfits.
She told me over the phone, “Don’t worry about the cost.” “This is a treat for me.”
I should have known better, but I disregarded my instinct because I was so moved by the gesture. I had no idea how much one dinner would alter my life.
“Veronica, that’s very kind of you,” I answered. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” she emphasized. “You deserve it, having spent so much time molding young minds.”
The restaurant was the type where pricing were not listed on the menu. As we walked in, the maître d’ gave me a thorough examination, raising an eyebrow at my sensible shoes and department shop attire.
We were sitting at a table by the window, staring out at the skyline of the city. Among the crystal glasses and immaculate white tablecloths, I felt uncomfortable.
Looking through the wine list, Veronica asked, “So, Ruth, how does it feel to be retired?”
I played around with my napkin. To be honest? somewhat peculiar. I don’t know what to do with my life.
With an inattentive nod, she faced the sommelier. “The Château Margaux from 2015 will be served.”
We talked about our families, my previous employment, and hers. I felt like we were becoming closer for once.
Veronica sipped her wine and remarked, “You must be glad to be done with all those unruly kids.”
“Yeah, I will miss them,” I answered. My life was spent teaching. Every pupil was distinct, a problem to be solved.
She gave a nod, but her eyes seemed to be getting tired. She didn’t even look at the menu when the waiter arrived.
She waved her hand and muttered, “The usual.” “And for my mother-in-law —” she interrupted, gazing hopefully at me.
I said, seeming agitated, “Oh, um, I’ll have the chicken, please.”
After nodding, the waiter vanished. With hardly a breath in between, Veronica launched into a story about her most recent court case.
While trying to follow along, my thoughts strayed. I considered my classroom, where a newer teacher was teaching. Did she love it as much as I did?
“Ruth? Do you hear me? Veronica’s abrupt tone brought me back to reality.
I apologize, sweetie. Just momentarily lost myself in contemplation.
She let out a sigh. “The judge decided the case entirely in our favor, as I was stating. It was an overwhelming triumph.
Though I wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about, I nodded and smiled. As the night went on, I began to feel uneasy in my stomach. I was unable to identify what was wrong, but I could sense it.
Veronica excused herself after we had finished our meal. She said, “I’ll just head to the ladies’ room.” “Come back right away.”
It was fifteen minutes later. Then thirty. The waiter’s courteous grin turned strained as he continued to give me the side-eye.
At last he came over. “Madam, are you prepared to pay the invoice?”
I almost passed out when I saw the amount—$5,375.
“I apologize,” I stumbled to myself. “I was invited by my daughter-in-law. She promised to pay.
The waiter became stern-faced. Would you like to give her a call?
Yes, I did. directly to voicemail.
I realized at that point. This had all been part of her plan. It seemed as though someone had punched me in the stomach. But once the initial shock subsided, resolve started to take its place.
I grinned at the waiter after taking a long breath. “Looks like I’ve been left behind,” I remarked composedly. “But don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.”
I hoped my credit card wouldn’t be denied as I gave it over. Though I knew I would be eating ramen for months, it wasn’t.
My head was already racing with plans as I walked out of the restaurant. Despite my advanced age, I am far from helpless.
I gave my old pal Carla a ring early the next morning. She has a wicked sense of humor and owns a cleaning service.
“Carla, I need your help,” I murmured. “Which house in town would you like to clean?”
“Ruth, what have you been doing?” She chuckled. “This seems like a different request from you.”
When I told her about my proposal, she was delighted to assist.
“Oh, honey, I have the perfect team for this project,” she exclaimed. We may even conceal a few surprises as we depart that spot spotless.
A tiny smile appeared on my lips as I hung up. Even though phase one was over, I wasn’t finished yet.
I then gave a call to my book club friend Charmaine, who is a lawyer. Ever since I assisted her daughter in passing her English tests, she has harbored fond memories of me.
“Charmaine, what would the cost of filing a lawsuit for emotional distress be?”
She laughed. “Ruth, are you really not that serious? This is not who you are.
“Very serious,” I answered. But in all honesty, I don’t want to sue. I simply have to frighten someone.
“Ah,” she responded, rapidly realizing. “Well, then, I believe we can create something appropriately horrifying. Pro gratis, naturally.
I asked Veronica to tea one week later. As if nothing had happened, she waltzed in and clicked her heels on my linoleum floor.
Ruth chirped, “How lovely to see you.” “I hope our dinner out was enjoyable.”
I gave a charming smile. Yes, I did. Actually, as a small token of my appreciation, I have this for you.
I gave her an envelope. Her flawlessly groomed nails ripped it apart.
Her expression changed from smug to surprised to pallid as she read.
“You are suing me?” I asked. Her poise faltering, she spewed.
Casting my best severe teacher voice, I added gently, “Unless you agree to my terms.”
Her lips pinched into a thin line as she looked at me. “Which terms?”
“You will first issue a public apology for your actions. Secondly, you will pay the debt and my legal fees back. Thirdly, you’ll begin to show me respect.
It appeared as though Veronica had ingested a lemon. “You’re not serious at all. You have no idea how this might affect my reputation.
With a steely voice, I said, “Try me.” “Even though I’m retired, I know how to handle troublemakers.”
She gave me a long look before losing interest. Alright. I’ll carry it out. But you do understand that this remains between us?
I extended my hand. “Give it a shake.”
She did, her hands sticky and limp. I questioned whether I had pushed too hard as we shook hands. Would this strategy blow up in my face?
Veronica’s apology went viral on social media the next day. Suddenly, my bank account had an extra $5,500. However, the best was still to come.
Carla’s group arrived to Veronica’s estate like a swarm of housecleaners. They left no corner unturned as they tidied every surface and arranged every drawer.
They also left a beautifully wrapped present in the master bedroom.
There was a list with every backhanded praise, eye roll, every sarcastic remark Veronica had ever directed at me. A letter that read, “A blank slate for a new beginning.” Let’s start treating each other better going forward.
As I sipped my tea, my phone rang. It was Veronica. As I answered, my heart shot up into my throat.
With a husky voice, she said, “Ruth.” “I’m at a loss for words.”
“How about saying I’m sorry?” I said, trying not to seem too serious.
A protracted silence ensued. Then, I was surprised to hear someone laughing.
“Wait, you really got me?” said she. “I never believed you were capable of it.”
I answered, “Just a quick reminder about respect.” “And never undervalue a teacher who has retired.”
“I felt like I earned it,” she said. “Can we — can we begin again?”
I grinned as a burden left my shoulders. “Veronica, that would be nice.”
After that day, everything was different. Veronica began contacting me more frequently, seeking guidance and even wanting to go out to informal dinners, which she paid for.
She asked me to assist in organizing Michael’s surprise birthday celebration last week.
“I require your proficiency,” she uttered. “After all, you know him the best.”
I was amazed at how far we’d come as we sat at her kitchen table going over party schedules.
Veronica abruptly exclaimed, “You know, I never thanked you properly.”
Startled, I looked up. For what purpose?
She answered, extending her hand to clasp mine, “for teaching me a lesson I’ll never forget.” “Ruth, you’re tougher than you appear.”
I chuckled. “Yes, I spent forty years berating middle school students.”
She smiled. Please remind me never to give up on you. It still amazes me how you managed to pull that off.
I smirked and said, “Let’s just say I had some practice dealing with troublemakers.”
A sensation of warmth filled my chest as we returned to our preparations. To make things right, sometimes a little rough love is just what’s required.
Who knows? I might even tell Michael about our little excursion someday. However, it remains our secret for the time being as a reminder that respect must be earned.
Even if the painful method is the only way to convey that lesson. Even though I’ve left the classroom, I’m still not done instructing.