Right after Vion and I got married, his parents hit tough times. His mom, Sylva, and dad, Dren, had to give up their house because Dren lost his job. Our tiny place couldn’t fit them, but we couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves.
They were in a bind, and so were we. When they found out my mom lived alone, they asked to stay with her. Mom’s two-story house was big, but after a car accident left her in a wheelchair, she had a live-in nurse to help.
“Please, Aeloria,” Sylva begged at Mom’s house over dinner. “We’re out of options and broke.”
I knew how much this hurt Vion—he felt helpless. When Mom agreed, Vion squeezed my hand under the table, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Of course, you can stay,” Mom said warmly. “As long as you need.”
At first, things went smoothly. Sylva cooked meals, and Dren mowed the lawn and kept things tidy.
But then things turned sour, and social services got involved. It was a total mess. Here’s what happened.
My in-laws started grumbling that Mom took up the whole first floor—which made sense, since my sister and I had made it her space after her accident. She needed it to move around easily, and the second floor was for us when we visited. Instead of being thankful, they complained about not having room for their stuff.
They even fussed about Mom’s fridge. “It’s all boring food,” Dren muttered. “Nothing special.”
But they never bought their own groceries or anything they wanted.
Even after Sylva got a job as a librarian and Dren started proofreading at the local paper, their whining didn’t stop. “Don’t you think they should look for their own place?” Vion asked one evening as we walked. “I bet your mom wants her house back,” he added.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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