A heartless landlord gives a woman who falls short on her rent notice. But when he goes to his sister’s house for a family dinner, he is shocked to find her there.
Life is hard, and it becomes even harder if the hearts that surround us are made of stone. Diane Salinger knew about life. At sixty-two, she’d seen a lot more dark days than sunny and cried a lot of tears.
But Diane wasn’t the kind of woman to give up. Every time life knocked her down, she bounced back up again, ready to fight again. She had lost her husband three years before, then a tornado razed her home. But she just picked up the stakes and started over again.
Even when Diane explained why she was short on the rent, Chris showed no sympathy. | Source: Shutterstock.com
She took her savings and bought herself a small grocery store in a pretty mid-sized town in Michigan. It was perfect for her. A big enough town that would appreciate a few of the exotic items she intended to carry, small enough to be cozy and warm.
Cozy and warm might describe the community in general, but not Diane’s landlord, Chris Turkle. It was from Chris that Diane rented her small apartment within walking distance of the store.
When the going gets tough it’s important to be there for each other.
As far as it went, Diane was the perfect tenant. She was quiet, didn’t damage the property, and always paid her rent on time. And then one month, she was short.
Chris fanned out the money he’d taken from the envelope in front of Diane and waved it in her face. “$120 short, Mrs.Salinger.”
Diane’s house was destroyed by a tornado. | Source: Unsplash
Diane blushed. “As I was explaining, Mr. Turkle, since so many of the small businesses have been struggling during Covid… Well, I extended credit to some needy families…And this month, I’m a little short. But you know I’m good for it! I will pay you the $120 in two weeks…”
“If you’re willing to go under playing Mother Teresa, that’s YOUR problem,” Chris snapped. “I, Mrs.Salinger, am a businessman, not a charity! I want you out by the end of the week!”
“But Mr. Turkle…” Diane protested. “It’s only for a week, and it won’t happen again!”
Diane opened a lovely little grocery store. | Source: Unsplash
“It happened once, and it’s enough for me, Mrs.Salinger. You’re OUT.” Chris said coldly, and he turned his back and walked out. He felt quite justified. He’d seen Diane’s grocery store, and it did brisk business.
There were always people trooping in and out with heavy shopping bags full of delicious-looking produce, and her deli section, he’d heard, was extremely popular. “Short on cash indeed!” he snorted to himself. “Taking advantage is what it is!”
Chris went home and got himself ready to go to dinner at his baby sister’s house. Vanessa was his favorite sister, and he often worried about her. She had married and divorced a man who seemed to be constantly unemployed, and Vanessa worked two jobs to make ends meet.
He’d offered to give her 16-year-old son a weekend job, but Vanessa always refused, blushing. “It’s okay, Chris,” she’d say. “I’ll make do!” But Chris had seen the dark shadows under her eyes and how thin her face was getting.
One month, Diane was short on her rent. | Source: Unsplash
It was his nephew’s birthday, so Chris tucked a $20 note into an envelope and put it in his jacket pocket. Then he headed for the door and walked the three blocks to Vanessa’s house.
He knocked on the door, and Vanessa welcomed him with a happy smile. She looked more relaxed and a lot happier. Whatever she was cooking for dinner smelled delicious, and his mouth watered.
“Hey there!” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Where’s the birthday boy?”
“Playing video games with Diane!” Vanessa smiled. “Come on in!” Vanessa walked to the stairs and shouted: “Joss, Diane, come on down! It’s dinner time!”
“I want you out by the end of the week!” | Source: Unsplash
To Chris’ chagrin, in walked Mrs.Salinger, the tenant he’d just booted out of his property, and she seemed to be on great terms with his nephew and his sister! Diane was just as stunned to see Chris, but she was admirably cool.
“Hello,” she smiled. “Nice to see you. I didn’t know you were Vanessa’s brother…”
Chris blushed and cleared his throat. “Ehr…Yes, my younger sister…you know…”
“Come on, everyone,” cried Vanessa. “The roast will get cold!”
Chis was shocked to see Diana at his sister’s house. | Source: Pexels
“Roast!” cried Joss. “That’s my favorite…But mom, I know you only get paid next week! How can we afford this?”
Diane smiled at Joss and patted his hand. “Don’t you worry about that,” she said. “Your mom’s credit is good with me. That smells AMAZING, and I’m starving!”
In a low voice, Chris leaned in and asked, “Is Vanessa the person you’re helping?”
Diane smiled. “She’s one of them,” she replied. “Maybe she didn’t tell you, but one of her jobs fell through, so I’m just helping out until she’s back on her feet.”
Chris felt a wave of shame color his cheeks. “I’m so sorry about…you know… But why doesn’t Vanessa come to me?”
Dinner was a wonderful roast from Diane’s store. | Source: Unsplash
Diane said gently, “You know, we all have our pride. Vanessa wants to stand on her own two feet and raise her boy. Help from a friend is one thing — being a poor relation asking for charity is another.”
Chris whispered, “I tell you what, from now on, you have the apartment at half-price — call it an investment in the town’s well-being and my sister’s!”
By the end of the evening, Chris had discovered that Diane was a very lovely and funny woman and that he enjoyed her company immensely. That night, his perception of his community shifted. He was going to follow Diane’s example. He was going to give a helping hand.
After that dinner, Chris started helping the community. | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
- When the going gets tough, it’s important to be there for each other. Diane was quietly helping the poorer people in town by selling them food on credit she knew they could never repay.
- Being able to admit you’re wrong and change your ways is an extraordinary thing. Chris not only realized he was wrong about Diane, but he also started to help those who were struggling.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a curvy girl who arrives at a dinner party to discover her fiancé there with a woman assuming her identity.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
My In-Laws Kicked Me out of the House with a Newborn – They Regretted It Soon
When Mila’s in-laws kicked her out with her newborn baby, she was devastated. Little did they know, their actions would come back to haunt them in ways they never imagined.
Hey everyone, Mila here! Being a busy mom of a one-year-old keeps me on my toes, but that’s nothing compared to the shocker I got recently. Ever wondered how you’d feel if your in-laws kicked you out of the house with your newborn baby? Because let me tell you, that’s what happened to me…
So, here’s the deal. Living with my hubby Adam’s folks, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, seemed like a sweet idea at first. You know, the whole “big happy family” thing. Turns out, sugarcoating a cactus doesn’t make it any less prickly.
Their daily arguments were like clockwork. Every. Single. Day.
It always started over the dumbest things, like the TV remote. My sweet MIL wanted her evening soap operas, while my ever-so-enthusiastic FIL needed his baseball fix.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t escalate into yelling matches that could wake the dead, let alone a cranky newborn.
Honestly, I just tuned it out most of the time. But with my little Tommy finally asleep after a rough night, the yelling started again.
I was fuming. Here I was, rocking Tommy back to sleep for the hundredth time, and they were downstairs going at it like toddlers over a bucket of Legos. Finally, I snapped.
I stormed downstairs, ready to unleash the mama bear within. But before I could launch into a lecture, I saw them sprawled on the couch, cool as cucumbers between their yelling sessions.
“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, “just so you know, the baby’s sleeping.”
“What’s your point?” Mr. Anderson replied, barely glancing up from the TV.
“My point,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm, “is that your shouting is waking him up.”
“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Anderson chimed in, rolling her eyes. “Babies need to get used to noise.”
“I think we can argue quietly,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “Just for tonight.”
Mrs. Anderson scoffed, “You know, Mila, when Adam was a baby, he slept through anything. Maybe Tommy just needs to toughen up.”
I bit my tongue. “Maybe. But right now, he’s just a baby who needs sleep.”
“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, “just so you know, the baby’s sleeping.”
“What’s your point?” Mr. Anderson replied, barely glancing up from the TV.
“My point,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm, “is that your shouting is waking him up.”
“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Anderson chimed in, rolling her eyes. “Babies need to get used to noise.”
“I think we can argue quietly,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “Just for tonight.”
Mrs. Anderson scoffed, “You know, Mila, when Adam was a baby, he slept through anything. Maybe Tommy just needs to toughen up.”
I bit my tongue. “Maybe. But right now, he’s just a baby who needs sleep.”
Then, I turned on my heel and marched back upstairs. A few seconds later, I heard Mr. Anderson’s booming voice erupt.
“How dare she?!” he hollered, his voice laced with venom. And then some real “nasty” words boomed which I can’t share here but hope you understand the kind of things he’d said.
Then, he burst into my room, without even having the basic decency to knock.
“Just so you know, you don’t shush me in my own home. This is MY HOUSE. I gave my son the money to buy it, so you don’t get to tell me what to do. If you think you’re so smart, then take the baby and go live with your mom where it’s comfy and quiet. Maybe when my son’s back from his business trip, he’ll think about letting you come back.”
Ugh. Did he seriously just call this HIS HOUSE? And the tone?
My blood pressure shot up, but I held my tongue. Maybe he was just mad and wouldn’t mean it in the morning.
Morning came, and the hope I clung to vanished faster than a free donut at the office. I found my MIL in the kitchen, humming along to the radio like nothing happened.
“Hey, mom,” I started, hoping for a flicker of remorse. “About what Dad said yesterday—”
She cut me off with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Honey,” she chirped, “my husband has a point. It’s his house, after all. You know, boundaries and all that.”
“Boundaries?” I repeated, incredulous. “Like the boundary that separates a grown woman from wanting a peaceful home for her child?”
“Now, Mila, there are certain ways things work around here,” my mother-in-law said, taking a pointed sip from her coffee cup. “Living in a joint family means respecting how we do things. You can’t order us around.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could unleash another mama bear roar, my FIL materialized in the doorway, looking like a thundercloud on legs.
Tears pricked my eyes.
Here I was, a new mom with a screaming baby, and my in-laws were practically shoving me out the door. Hurt and angry, I stormed back to my room, tears streaming down my face.
I packed a bag for myself and Tommy, my hands shaking with rage and disbelief.
As I walked out the door, not a single goodbye came from either of them. They just slammed the door shut behind me, leaving me feeling utterly alone.
The next few days were a blur at my mom’s place. My haven felt more like a crowded life raft, but at least it was quiet. I called Adam, who was still on his business trip, and filled him in on everything.
“They what?” Adam’s voice was exploded with fury. “They kicked you out?”
“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Told me to go to my mom’s.”
“I’m coming back,” he said firmly. “I’ll be on the next flight. They can’t do this to you.”
Adam arrived late that very night, his face etched with exhaustion and anger. The moment he walked through the door, he enveloped me in a tight hug, holding Tommy close as well.
“I can’t believe they did this,” he muttered into my hair. “We’re going to sort this out.”
The next morning, we packed up our things and headed back to the Andersons’.
Adam was fuming, but he was determined to have a calm, rational conversation. As soon as we stepped inside, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were waiting, looking smug and unrepentant.
“So,” Adam began, his voice steady but cold, “what’s this about kicking Mila and Tommy out?”
My FIL crossed his arms. “Adam, we discussed this. Our house, our rules. Mila needs to understand that.”
Adam’s jaw tightened. “Dad, this isn’t about rules. You can’t just throw my wife and child out like they’re nothing.”
My MIL sighed dramatically. “Adam, darling, it’s not like that. We just need some peace and quiet around here.”
“Peace and quiet?” Adam’s voice rose. “You call screaming at each other every night peace and quiet? Tommy needs a stable environment, not this… chaos.”
My FIL’s face darkened. “Watch your tone, son. This is our home. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should leave too.”
I clutched Tommy closer, my heart pounding. This was escalating fast.
Adam took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check.
“Listen, we’re family. We should be able to work this out. But right now, we need to think about what’s best for Tommy.”
My MIL rolled her eyes. “Adam, you’re overreacting. Babies cry. It’s what they do. A little noise isn’t going to hurt him.”
“A little noise?” Adam shook his head in disbelief. “Mom, it’s not just the noise. It’s the constant fighting, the tension. It’s not healthy.”
My FIL jabbed a finger in Adam’s direction. “You think you know better than us? We’ve raised you and your sister. We know what we’re doing.”
“Maybe you do,” Adam said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean you can dictate how we raise our son. We need to find a solution that works for everyone.”
Mrs. Anderson snorted. “Good luck with that.”
Of course, my in-laws weren’t happy about it and never spoke a word to me. They kept up their nonstop arguments, louder than ever. I knew they were making noise on purpose this time, but I didn’t say anything.
But here’s the kicker—a couple of days later, the doorbell rang and my FIL opened the door, only to GASP.
Two police officers appeared at the door and ushered my FIL and MIL out. It then came to light that Adam had called the police on his parents for kicking me out of MY OWN house.
The truth hit me like a punch to the gut.
Adam confessed that the money his father gave for the house went to a failed business venture. He then revealed that he bought the house in my name, using all his savings, and kept it a secret from me and his parents.
Fast forward to that evening, I was cradling my baby in the nursery, relieved to be back home, the very place my in-laws had forced me to leave. Then, the phone rang, shattering the quiet. It was my in-laws. I hesitated, but I picked up.
“Mila,” my MIL said, her voice unusually soft, “we didn’t know it was your house. If we had known—”
My FIL cut in, “We’re sorry, Mila. Really. We didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not about knowing whose name is on the deed,” I interrupted. “It’s about what you did. You kicked a woman and her newborn out because you didn’t like something. That’s not okay.”
There was a pause. Then my MIL spoke again, “So, can we come back?”
“No,” I said firmly. “It’s enough for me to know what you’re capable of. I don’t want you in my house anymore.”
Silence. Then a quiet, “Alright,” and they hung up.
I looked at Tommy, peacefully sleeping in his crib. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “We’re home, buddy,” I whispered, “and we’re staying right here.”
Now, look, I don’t hold grudges. But kicking out a new mom and her baby? Living with family is about compromise, right? These two, though… they acted like they were the king and queen of the castle, and Tommy and I were just guests.
Am I crazy here? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thanks for listening, everyone.
Here’s another story: When Edith overheard a private talk between her husband and his mother, she unraveled startling truths about their marriage that ended up saving her life.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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