My DIL Threw My Belongings Out of the House After Learning She Inherited It, but Karma Got Her That Same Day

“Clear your stuff off MY lawn, before I call the cops!

My DIL claimed to have inherited the house after my father passed away and threw all of my family’s possessions out onto the lawn! Soon after, my son arrived, and she was severely struck by karma.

I had been rummaging through decades’ worth of memories in moving boxes when Dad’s lawyer called regarding the reading of the will. I called my son Matt and asked him to come instead of me because I couldn’t bear to go to the lawyer’s office.

“Yes, Mom,” he answered. “Are you sure you don’t need help to sort through Grandad’s things?”

I said, “Thanks, but I’m getting by.” Later today, I’m going to pick up his stuff from the assisted living facility. Would you please come over this afternoon and let me know if you have any special memories of him?

I was so sure the will reading would be a simple, unsurprising event. How mistaken I was.

The smell of the nursing home was a combination of wilted flowers and antiseptic that made my throat tighten. A young nurse handed me Dad’s things, all neatly packed in an old, plain cardboard box, and I took a reassuring breath.

The nurse said, “Here you are, Ma’am,” in a kind but aloof tone befitting someone who had done this a hundred times.

I lifted the box and nodded, muttering a quiet thank you.

Even though it wasn’t heavy, I still felt like the weight was pressing down on me. Simple items such as several dog-eared mystery novels, his beloved worn sweater, and a small Bible with a frayed cover from years of use were found inside.

 

 

I ran my fingers over the sweater and noticed a slight, recognizable smell—that of his cologne—that vanished quickly.

When I turned to go, the finality hit me.

Dad had really passed away. I gripped the box tighter, as though holding on to it would keep him with me. Silent tears were streaming down my cheeks as I got to my car.

I sobbed until my tears dried up while sitting in the car. My phone repeatedly rang and beeped, but Matt was the only one there. I think he was worried about me, but there are some grievances you have to go through on your own.

When I got home, the last thing I thought I would see was my entire life scattered across the front lawn like a deranged estate sale.

 

 

The memories I’d painstakingly packed into boxes and hauled down from the attic were scattered as the wind picked up.

All of Dad’s books, Mom’s old recipes, her china, and the faded plaid quilt he used to cuddle under were all spread out in the open, unsecured, as though they held no significance. Heart thumping, I staggered out of my car.

“What in God’s name…” I muttered, my voice swallowed by the wind.

“Well, that’s good. At last, you’re back. I was growing weary of standing by.”

Jessica was there, sitting on my patio furniture sporting an overly bright lipstick and designer sunglasses. There was no way my daughter-in-law looked up from her phone. She sipped slowly from her coffee, a barely concealed smirk curling her lips.

 

 

“Jessica… What’s the deal with everything?” My chest tightened with disbelief as I scanned the chaos with my eyes. “What are you doing?”

She lifted her head and lowered her shades slightly so that I could see the contempt in her eyes. She dismissed it with a well-groomed hand wave.

“I’m taking the required action. I mean, this is my new home.”

Something cold twisted in my gut. “Your house? What topic are you discussing?”

“Looks like you should’ve attended the will reading.” Jessica held up a clean sheet of paper, and at the bottom there was my dad’s signature, as obvious as day. “Guess your dad knew who deserved it most, huh?”

 

 

I staggered and held on to the car door for stability. “That isn’t feasible. Dad would never do that.

“Oh, but he did.” She smirked as she idly examined her flawless manicure.

“Delivered, sealed, and signed. I now own the house.” She leaned close to me, her perfume invading my space with its sickly, synthetic scent. “I think it’s time you moved on, Hattie.”

My son Matt climbed out of the truck as it roared into the driveway, his expression contorted in shock at what he saw. As he got closer, his boots crunched on the gravel, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Jess, what the fuck? You left the attorney’s office first, and now you’re sending me this strange text? What is happening?” His jaw clenched as he asked, his eyes darting from me to Jessica.

 

 

Finally, she stood up and looked confident and comfortable in her enormous heels. My skin crawled. “As previously stated, honey, I’m making some essential adjustments. In actuality, there’s more to be aware of.”

There was a flash of something I had never seen before in Matt’s expression as it hardened. “More than you throwing my mother’s belongings all over the yard?”

“Much more!” Jessica gave a harsh laugh. “I want a divorce.”

Like the last nail in a coffin, the word hung in the air. Matt opened his mouth, closed it again, trying to take it all in. “What? You’re not serious at all.”

“Oh, I am.” She spoke with such contempt in her voice. “I’ve spent enough years suffocating in this house, being made to feel like I don’t fit in, like I’m not good enough!” She waved her arm, pointing toward the house. “I need a fresh start.”

 

 

“You have no right—” I started, but a scornful wave from her interrupted me.

“Oh, Hattie, save it. I was never meant to be a part of this family. You denigrated me from the beginning, making assumptions about me based only on the fact that I wasn’t raised in a wealthy family. I’m finally getting what I deserve from you people now, though.”

Matt’s expression changed from confusion to rage, his hands balled up. “Everything my family has said about you is true,” he uttered in a tremulous, low voice. “You really are a covetous witch.”

Jessica’s façade broke.

She angrily exclaimed, “And you’re a spineless mama’s boy!” “Always running to her defense, always putting her first.” She pointed a well-groomed finger at him with a sneer. It’s pitiful. You share her narrow-mindedness exactly.”

 

 

“Don’t you dare talk about my son that way!” More sharply than I had intended, my voice broke through the stillness.

“I’ll do whatever I want, Hattie.” With a smug expression, Jessica placed her hands on her hips. “And there’s nothing either of you can do about it.”

“Actually,” Jessica went on. “The two of you had best hurry and clear your stuff off MY lawn, before I call the cops and have them arrest you both.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Matt growled.

I watched in numbness as Matt confronted Jessica. It was all very confusing! Even Dad hadn’t been fond of Jessica! I took out my phone, shook my hands, and made a fast call to Dad’s attorney.

 

 

His tone was soothing, collected, and comforting. “Hattie? I was about to give you a call.”

“… really believed I liked you?” Jessica shouted in the distance. “You served only as a tool to help me get out of my old neighborhood. I no longer require your help now that I own a home.”

I muttered, “Please,” to the attorney. Inform me if she is lying. Dad could never have given up his house to Jessica.”

A pause, and then a hearty laugh.

“You’re accurate. She wasn’t given the house by your father. Everything was a ruse to force her to reveal her true nature.”

“A…test?” A wave of relief swept through me, and I burst out laughing, tears welling up in my eyes. It was the kind of laugh that surprised even me, coming from somewhere deep.

 

 

Jessica’s confidence wavered as her expression contorted. “What are you laughing at?”

“Oh, Jessica,” I said, shaky as ever. “You really should have waited for the real will reading.”

“What?”

As I explained, I allowed the satisfaction to wash over me. “Your father never abandoned the house.” It was a charade designed to elicit your genuine nature.

Matt turned to face Jessica, a flurry of emotions on his face. “Looks like Grandpa’s plan worked.”

Jessica’s gaze expanded. As the realization of her actions dawned on her, she cast a quick glance between Matt and me. Her self-assured exterior gave way, and she began to sound desperate in an attempt to maintain her composure.

“Matt — baby, please.” She extended her hand, but he pulled back, clearly showing finality in his eyes.

“I swear, I never meant it!” She begged. “I was just angry and irritated. You are aware of my love for you.”

He gave a headshake. “Preserve it. Do you wish to get divorced? You possess one.”

I felt a strange calm descend upon me as Jessica stormed off the property, her heels sinking with every step. Dad was a quiet, guiding force whose wisdom endured.

As Matt and I picked the pieces of my life out of the grass, it occurred to me that sometimes the true legacy isn’t in a house but rather in the lessons learned about who really deserves to be in your life.

Father would have been pleased.

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