“Hard work and humility?” I echoed. “They’re seven years old, not farmhands.
And why only my kids? Why aren’t the other kids out there too?”
Linda’s gaze turned cold.
“Penelope, these children need to learn their place. After all, they aren’t as important as the others.
They’re adopted. They’re not real family.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“This is unacceptable,” I said, my entire body shaking with emotion. “They are children, and they deserve the same treatment as any of the other grandkids.”
Linda just shrugged.
“If you don’t like it, you can take them back home.
But then don’t expect them to be a part of any family traditions in the future.”
“That’s the last thing I want,” I said. “I don’t want my kids to have anything to do with you, Linda.”
Fuming, I stormed past her and went straight to the shed. My heart broke at the sight of Ava and Blair huddled together on the makeshift beds, their eyes wide with fear.
I scooped them up and marched back to the house.
“We’re leaving,” I declared, glaring at Linda.
“And don’t expect to see any of us again unless you can treat all your grandchildren with equal love and respect.”
As I drove away, my girls safely tucked into the backseat, a mix of anger and relief washed over me.
At home, I set the girls up in bed and kissed them before letting them get to sleep. I knew we had a bigger conversation in the morning.
When Seth got home, I told him what happened.
“You’re joking,” he said, livid. “You’re telling me that my mother did this?!”
I nodded.
“This is not how our daughters will be treated,” he said firmly.
“We’ll handle this together. Let the girls sleep.”
The next morning, my mother came over to babysit the girls.
“We’ll just play with the dollhouse until you come back,” she said.
Then, we returned to confront his parents. And, my goodness, my husband didn’t mince his words.
“Mom, what you did is unforgivable.
You treated my daughters like they were less than human because they’re adopted. Until you can show that you love and respect all your grandchildren equally, you won’t be seeing any of us.”
The confrontation was intense. Linda tried to defend her actions, but Seth stood his ground.
Eventually, she broke down.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, tears running down her face.
But I couldn’t care less.
Our decision rippled through the family. Jesse, Seth’s brother, refused to take his kids over to their parents, too.
And do you know how karma stepped in? A month later, it was Linda’s 70th birthday, and it was supposed to be a big deal.
We were all supposed to be there, ready to celebrate the matriarch.
But nobody showed up. Paul phoned Seth and told him that Linda had spent the day crying, regretting everything.
“Too bad, Dad,” Seth said. “I’m focusing on my children.
My family is more important.”
What would you have done?
