Housewarming Party: I Quit This Marriage

The day we move into our new home, Nora Ford says the first toast at our housewarming party has to be to my parents. When I come home with an armful of groceries, I find my mom scrubbing pots in the kitchen. She's wearing a gray apron, her sleeves soaked through. The backs of her hands are scalded from hot water. On the living room couch, Nora's male assistant, Caleb Jackson, sits with his parents. He's wearing my slippers and holding my cat in his arms, ordering toward the kitchen, "Mrs. Shepherd, the soup's a little bland and could use some more salt!" Dad crouches on the balcony, fixing the wooden rocking horse he's spent two weeks building by hand. A crack blooms across the horse's head, while a black shoeprint is stamped on its back. "Caleb's parents came all this way," Nora says. "We can't exactly make our guests lift a finger." Caleb quickly stands up, looking wronged. "John, don't blame Ms. Ford. I only asked your mom to give us a hand." Mom hurries over and waves dismissively. "It's fine. I'm used to doing this at home anyway." Caleb's mother chuckles. "Your mom works pretty quickly. If we ever need a housekeeper, I can put in a word for her." Dad's fingers tremble. He's been crouching so long that his back hurts too badly to stand up. Just then, the TV suddenly lights up. A line of text appears across the screen. "Welcome, Mr. Caleb Jackson, to Ms. Nora Ford's new home." The next second, a move-in registration form from the property manager pops up on my phone. "Resident(s): Nora Ford, Caleb Jackson" "Visitor: John Shepherd" "Housekeeper: Maggie Cooper" Maggie Cooper is Mom's maiden name. I pick up the bottle of red wine from the dining table and pour it into Nora's beloved fish tank. "Screw this place." Chapter 1 The red wine spread through the fish tank like a cloud of blood. My wife, Nora Ford, shot to her feet. "John, are you out of your mind?" The arowana thrashed wildly in the water. Her assistant, Caleb Jackson, flinched and stumbled backward, nearly dropping the cat in his arms. "John, please don't do this. Ms. Ford bought the arowana especially for the new home. It's supposed to liven up the place." I snorted. "Liven up the place? My mom is in the kitchen scrubbing your dishes, while you trampled my dad's thing like it's worthless. You're talking to me about livening up the place?" Nora's face darkened. "Your mom offered to help. We didn't force her." Mom came out of the kitchen, water still dripping from her sleeves. "It's okay, John. Today is supposed to be a happy day." As she spoke, she instinctively took half a step back. That was when I noticed what she was wearing on her feet—a pair of disposable plastic slippers. The soles were so thin they were practically touching the floor, and the heel had already split open. The new slippers I had bought her were nowhere to be seen. "Mom, where are your slippers?" She avoided my gaze. "My dad's feet are swollen, so I let him wear the wool slippers you bought for your mom," Caleb said softly. I turned to look. Caleb's father, Leonard Jackson, was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed. On his feet were the slippers I had bought for Mom. Before Nora and I moved, I had specifically bought two pairs of slippers—one for Dad, one for Mom. I told them this was their home, too, and from then on, they would have their own soft slippers to wear. Yet now, Mom was standing in the apartment she had helped pay for, wearing disposable plastic slippers, looking like a housekeeper who could be dismissed at any moment. Nora frowned at me. "It's just a pair of slippers. Do you have to go this far?" I looked at her. "Exactly. So why didn't you let Mr. Jackson wear the disposable ones?" She was stumped. Caleb looked incredibly wronged. "John, I swear I didn't know they were for Mrs. Shepherd. I'll return them right now." He bent down to take off the slippers, moving so slowly one would think he was the victim here. Leonard immediately stopped him. "I won't wear them, then. We're not so poor that we can't afford our own slippers." He glanced at Mom. "Some people just aren't meant for nice things." Mom's face went white. Dad finally piped up, "What are you insinuating here?" His back was bad, so his voice wasn't loud, but I saw his tight grip around the wooden rocking horse. Nora's expression was grim. "Look, Mr. Shepherd. Mr. Jackson is getting on in years. He's just blunt. Don't take it personally." For four years of marriage, she had still addressed Dad that way. I walked over and took the wooden rocking horse from him. The shoeprint on its back was deep. To me, it was no different than a slap on Dad's face. I grew up in a low-income household. As a kid, I wanted to ride one of those carousel horses at the mall. Dad couldn't afford it, so he carved one out of wood for me instead. This time, when we moved, he carved a smaller version for my future kid. He had said he wanted to place it in the living room. "I might not have much to offer as a grandfather, but what I can do is use these hands of mine to make the best things I can for my family." Yet Nora merely glanced at it, impatient. "It doesn't really suit our living room style. Caleb spent ages working with a designer to put this place together. It just ruins the whole look." Caleb jumped in. "Don't get me wrong, John. Ms. Ford just thinks the natural wood makes the place look dated." I looked around the living room. Everything—from the couch, curtains, sideboard to decorations—was in the minimalist style Caleb liked. They replaced the solid-wood cabinet I had picked out and changed my beige curtains to white. They also swapped out my painting on the wall with a framed quote. "Home Is Where He Is." I asked Nora what that was supposed to mean, and she told me the designer had picked it at random. Now, I realized it hadn't been random at all. Someone had already been quietly writing himself into this home. Chapter 2 The housewarming video continued playing on the TV. On the screen, Nora and Caleb were shopping for furniture together, picking out lights and measuring curtains. He stood in my kitchen, smiling at the camera. "We definitely need an open-concept kitchen. I like chatting while I cook." The next second, the footage cut to the master bedroom. Caleb sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Nora. "Don't you think the mattress is a little too soft?" She smiled. "Well, you prefer it that way. That's all that matters." The entire living room fell silent. That bed was supposed to be Nora's and mine, yet even the mattress was picked out according to Caleb's preferences. Caleb's face went pale, and he hurriedly explained, "John, Ms. Ford was just busy that day, so I had to help you guys test it out." I looked at him. "Testing out the mattress in our bedroom, huh?" He looked on the verge of tears. "That's not what I meant." Nora switched off the TV, her voice turning cold. "Enough, John. Caleb is my assistant. He handled almost everything during the renovation. If you're not going to thank him, fine, but don't make him out to be some awful person." I chuckled. "Thank him? Am I supposed to thank him for turning my mom into your housekeeper, trampling on my dad's hard work, and making me a visitor in my own home?" She froze. "What are you talking about?" I passed her my phone. The move-in registration form couldn't be any clearer. "Resident(s): Nora Ford, Caleb Jackson" "Visitor: John Shepherd" "Housekeeper: Maggie Cooper" Mom saw it, too. Her lips quivered, and she couldn't utter a word. When the Jacksons had called her into the kitchen to scrub the pots earlier, she had even made excuses for them. She had spent her whole life being honest and genuine, so she never imagined something like this could happen. Little did she know, she had already been reduced to a housekeeper in her own home. Nora's expression shifted. "The property manager must've made a mistake." I stared at her. "A mistake? How did they somehow manage to enter Mom's ID number, then?" She swallowed hard. Caleb's trembling voice cut in. "John, I must've mixed things up when I registered the renovation workers. I didn't mean to, I swear." I turned to him. "If you were only registering the renovation workers, why did you list yourself as the resident?" His face went white. Nora frowned and stepped in front of him. "He's already explained himself, John." I nodded. "Sure. Then explain one more thing." I walked toward the room at the end of the hallway. It was supposed to be the guest room for Mom and Dad. Before coming, Mom had even asked me three times. "Are you sure we can stay here sometimes? We won't be getting in the way of you two, will we?" I told them they wouldn't. They had helped pay for this apartment, after all, so they had every right to stay. Yet when I opened the door, Caleb's clothes filled the closet. His work ties and belts hung neatly from the hangers, beneath a small label that read, "Caleb's Personal Closet". Mom stood behind me. The dishcloth in her hand fell to the floor. "I didn't think your parents would come here often," Caleb muttered weakly. "I just thought we should use the space wisely." Nora quickly backed him up. "It's not like your parents are used to living in the city, anyway." How ironic. Mom and Dad sold their old house so we could afford to buy this new apartment. In the end, they didn't even have a room in my house. I returned to the living room and slammed the wine bottle onto the dining table. "Talk to me, Nora. Who the hell gives you the nerve to let him move into our home?" Chapter 3 Nora's face was frighteningly grim. "John, do you have to argue about this in front of everyone?" I looked at her. "My mom somehow became a housekeeper in her own home. Am I not allowed to say anything?" Leonard sneered. "Don't make it sound so awful. Your mother basically lived her whole life in the kitchen. Calling her a housekeeper isn't that much of a stretch." Mom's complexion turned pale. Dad braced a hand against his aching back and stepped forward. "What did you just say?" Caleb's mother, Patricia Watson, finally set down her wineglass and spoke leisurely. "Oh, Nora. Life is hard when your husband is too petty. Take our Caleb, for example. He'd never embarrass his woman in front of the others." Nora didn't argue. Her silence cut deeper than any words could have. Dad looked at her, his voice hoarse. "Nora, we paid half the down payment for this place. What you've pulled today is frankly unacceptable." Nora looked grim. "Mr. Shepherd, I will pay you back." "I'm not asking you to pay us back," he said. "I'm talking about basic decency." Leonard let out a mocking laugh. "You contributed a little money and think you get to be the master of your daughter-in-law's home?" Mom panicked. "No, that's not what we meant." The more she tried to explain, the more pleased the Jacksons looked. The down payment on this apartment was 387,000 dollars. Nora put up 193,500, while Mom and Dad contributed 150,000. The remaining 43,500 was from my savings after we got married. The deed was registered in both Nora's and my names. Dad sold the house back home to come up with his share. Mom melted her gold bracelet and the commemorative gold medal her workplace had given her when she retired. Back then, Nora had held Dad's hand and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd, from now on, this will be your home, too." Now, she had them working around the place like housekeepers. "They contributed almost half the down payment. How's that considered a little money?" Nora pursed her lips. "We'll talk about the money later, but we will not make a scene in front of our guests here." I turned to the Jacksons. "Guests? In what world are they considered guests?" Caleb came over with red-rimmed eyes. "John, I know you don't like me, but my parents only came today to see Ms. Ford's new home. They didn't mean any harm." I corrected him. "It's also my home." He froze. I picked up my phone and opened the property management portal. "If you claim this was just a mistake, I'll ask the property manager right now." Nora reached out to stop me. "Haven't we embarrassed ourselves enough?" I pulled my hand away and immediately started a video call with the property manager. He answered quickly. "Hello, Mr. Shepherd." "Who submitted the move-in registration form?" I asked. He paused briefly. "Mr. Jackson did. He said your wife was busy with work, so he'd be handling everything for the household from then on." The living room went so quiet one could hear a pin drop. "Then why was my mother registered as the housekeeper?" He flipped through the records. "From the remarks, Mr. Jackson noted that your mother would mainly be responsible for cooking and cleaning, so it'd be more convenient for her to use the staff entrance when coming and going." Mom swayed, and I caught her quickly. From the moment she stepped through that door, she wasn't a mother-in-law, a mother, or someone who had helped pay for this home. She was just a housekeeper who was supposed to use the staff entrance. Nora's face turned livid. "That's enough. Hang up." I didn't. "And what about me?" I asked one last question. "Why was I listed as a visitor?" The manager answered carefully, "Mr. Jackson said you don't live here often, so he asked us to give you temporary visitor access for now. He said we could rearrange it later, depending on your wife's arrangements." I snorted, then ended the call. Caleb stood there, his face eerily pale. "John, I only made those arrangements on Ms. Ford's behalf because I thought you were always busy at work." I looked at him. "You sure were helpful, weren't you? Why didn't you transfer the deed to your name while you were at it?" Chapter 4 Nora finally lost her temper. "Why are you acting so extreme, John?" I stared at her. "You took the home my parents had to sell their house to help pay for, yet you didn't even leave them a place to sit. You let another man get onto my bed, wear my slippers, and move into my apartment. Tell me, Nora. Who's really the extreme one here?" Her breath caught. Leonard chimed in again with his unsolicited opinion. "This is all about money, again. Poor in-laws are always such a headache. They put up some money and act like they deserve to have their family name carved on the deed." Tears rolled down Mom's cheeks. "We're not trying to take advantage of anyone. We only wanted our son to feel safe and respected in his own home." It felt like someone had twisted a knife into my chest. Leonard was about to say more, but I grabbed the fruit plate from the table and smashed it at his feet. Glass shattered across the floor. "I dare you to say another word to my parents." Silence dawned upon the living room. Nora strode over and grabbed my wrist. "You've gone too far today, John." I looked at her hand around mine. "Let go." She didn't. Caleb clutched his chest, panting as if having a panic attack. "Forget it, Ms. Ford. This is all my fault. I'll leave." Nora immediately let go and rushed to steady him. "Take a deep breath, Caleb." When Mom's hands had been scalded red, Nora hadn't asked once if she was okay. When Dad was sweating buckets from his back pain, she hadn't lifted a finger to help him. But the moment Caleb frowned a little, she acted as if the world was ending. I looked at her, and whatever last bit of feelings I had for her disappeared. Just then, the doorbell rang. The property manager stood at the entrance with two security guards. Behind them was a middle-aged man. Nora's face changed. "Dad, what are you doing here?" Michael Ford walked in with a stack of printed documents, his face gloomy. "To get to the bottom of why my son-in-law has become a visitor in his own home." He threw the papers at her. "And there's also this." I looked down. The title read, "Acknowledgement of Debt". The signatory was Dad. Dad stared at the document, his face slowly changing. "What's this?" Nora wanted to pick it up, but Michael pinned it under his foot. "Let your in-laws see for themselves." I bent down and picked it up, my fingertips turning cold. The document stated, "Adam Shepherd voluntarily lends 150,000 dollars to Nora Ford to purchase an apartment. This money was not a gift and did not entitle him to any share of the property." Dad's signature was on the final page. Mom covered her mouth in shock. "Honey, when did you sign this?" Dad's face had gone ashen. "T-The day we paid the down payment. Nora said the bank needed an additional statement explaining the source of the funds, or the mortgage wouldn't go through." He turned to Nora. "You said it was just a statement." She swallowed hard. "Mr. Shepherd, it really was part of the mortgage process." I stared at her. "And did that require you to write that they'd have no claim to any of the apartment's share?" Nora fell silent. I already had the answer. The wooden rocking horse fell to the floor with a dull thud. Dad hadn't had much schooling in his life, but he knew he had to help me buy a home. When Nora said the mortgage paperwork was complicated, he signed whatever she put in front of him. He knew he had to sell the house he had lived in for more than 20 years because he didn't want me to feel inferior in front of my in-laws. That simple, trusting faith had somehow been weaponized against him. Mom cried. "Nora, I know we said we didn't need to own the place, but you can't just deceive him like this." Nora's face scrunched together. "Mrs. Shepherd, I never meant to deceive you guys. I was just worried there would be disputes over the property in the future." I snorted. "Is that so? Or were you just worried about what might happen once Caleb moved in?"