The house he thought he had bought with his mortgage was actually purchased by me. I had paid the down payment. I had co-signed the loan. I had been silently paying the mortgage for years so he could maintain his standard of living.
But that wasn’t all. The company where Ethan worked as an engineer also had a secret.
The owner, Mr. Harrison, was a business partner of my father’s from Europe. When Ethan graduated, I had spoken to Mr. Harrison to give my son a chance. Not only did he get him the job, but for years, he had been receiving reports on his performance.
Ethan was a mediocre employee who had kept his job more because of my influence than his talent.
Brooke also had no idea who she had really married. Her brand-new husband, the successful engineer she bragged so much about, was actually the adopted son of a woman who could buy and sell his entire family without blinking.
While they were enjoying their honeymoon, spending the wedding gift money from Brooke’s family, I was at the hotel spa, relaxing for the first time in decades.
It had been years since I had allowed myself this kind of luxury. I had always been so busy working for Ethan, worrying about Ethan, living for Ethan, that I had forgotten to live for myself.
It was during a relaxing massage that I made my next decision. Not only was I going to retire from being a mother, but I was also going to make sure that Ethan and Brooke understood exactly what they had lost.
When Ethan and Brooke returned from their honeymoon, the problems began.
First, it was the utility company that cut off their electricity because they hadn’t paid the bill.
Ethan called me furious.
“Mom, why didn’t you pay the electricity bill for my house?”
“Because it’s not my house,” I replied calmly. “And because I am no longer your mom.”
“What are you talking about? Of course, you’re my mom.”
“No,” I said. “Mothers are invited to their sons’ weddings. I was not invited. Therefore, I am not your mother.”
Ethan was silent for a moment.
“Mom, don’t be ridiculous. It was just a wedding.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “Just a wedding. The most important wedding of your life, and you decided I had no place in it. Now you live with the consequences of that decision.”
“But you’ve always paid my utilities,” he shouted. “It’s your obligation.”
“My obligation?” I repeated, feeling the anger rise in my chest. “Ethan, for 28 years, I fulfilled obligations that were not mine. That’s over.”
I hung up and dialed Mr. Harrison’s number.
“Good morning, Mr. Harrison,” I said. “It’s Clara. I think it’s time we talked about Ethan.”
“Ah, Clara,” Mr. Harrison sighed. “I figured you’d be calling soon. I heard about what happened at the wedding. That boy has no idea what you’ve done for him all these years.”
“That’s exactly why I’m calling,” I said. “I want you to see who Ethan really is as an employee without my influence.”
Mr. Harrison was quiet for a moment.
“Clara, if I withdraw my protection, Ethan is going to have serious problems in the company. His work is mediocre. He’s constantly late, and several clients have complained about his attitude.”
“Then handle the situation as it should be handled,” I replied. “I will no longer intercede for him.”
Meanwhile, Brooke had begun to notice other changes. The credit card she used for her shopping sprees for clothes and beauty products had been canceled.
It was a card I had taken out years ago and had been paying silently so that Ethan could keep his girlfriend, and later wife, happy.
When Brooke tried to use it at her favorite boutique, the saleswoman told her the card had been reported as canceled for non-payment.
“Ethan!” Brooke screamed that night. “Your mother canceled my credit card. Call her right now and tell her to reactivate it.”
Ethan called me in a rage.
“Mom, how can you be so petty? Brooke needs that card.”
“Brooke can get her own card,” I replied. “Or you can get one for her with your credit. Oh, wait. You don’t have any credit because you’ve never paid for anything yourself.”
“You’re a bitter old woman,” he yelled at me. “That’s why nobody loves you.”
His words hurt. But this time, I didn’t stay silent.
“Ethan,” I said in a firm voice, “for 28 years, I swallowed my pride so you could have everything you wanted. I humbled myself, worked to exhaustion, and gave up my own happiness. And when the most important moment of your life came, you treated me like trash. Now you’re going to learn what it means to stand on your own two feet.”
I hung up and turned off my phone. It was time for the next step.
The next day, I visited Ethan at his work. I arrived in a luxury car service, dressed in an elegant suit I had bought that morning.
When I entered the office, everyone stared at me. Ethan came out of his cubicle with a surprised look on his face.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” I said. “Can we speak in private?”
We went to the conference room, and I closed the door.
“Ethan,” I said, “I want you to know something. For all these years, Mr. Harrison has been very patient with you because he respects me. But that patience has run out.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked nervously.
“I’m talking about the fact that Mr. Harrison knows you’re late, that your work is mediocre, that several clients have complained about you. The only thing that has kept you in this job has been my influence.”