Living with my son and his unbearable wife was far from the peaceful arrangement I had imagined. But when the grumpy neighbor next door unexpectedly asked me to dinner, everything began to change. Little did I know, a secret plan was unfolding — one that would turn my life upside down.
I had been living with my son Andrew and his ever-resentful wife, Kate, for two weeks. It wasn’t an arrangement either of them had ever wanted, but my accidental, slightly exaggerated leg injury had finally forced Kate’s reluctant consent.
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She opposed it, of course—she had for years—but this time, she had no choice.
Stepping out onto the porch that morning, I spotted her in the yard, raking leaves. Watching her from a distance, I sighed. The poor girl hadn’t the faintest idea what she was doing.
“Kate, you’re doing it all wrong!” I called, raising my voice. She didn’t even look up.
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I assumed she hadn’t heard, so I moved closer, wincing for effect. “I’m telling you, you’re raking them the wrong way. Start with small piles, then combine them into one big heap. Dragging them across the yard is a waste of time.”
She stopped abruptly, leaning on the rake, and turned to face me. Her face betrayed the exhaustion of carrying a child and hosting an unwanted guest.
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“I thought your leg hurt,” she said flatly, her gaze drifting to my suspiciously steady walk. “Maybe it’s time for you to go home?”
The nerve of her! Clutching my leg for emphasis, I replied indignantly, “I was trying to help you, despite the pain, and this is how you thank me?”
Kate rested a hand on her belly, the protective gesture unmistakable. “I’m seven months pregnant. Helping would mean actually doing something useful,” she said, her voice sharper than the autumn air.
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Rude, I thought, but I forced a tight smile. She wasn’t worth the argument.
Across the fence, Mr. Davis, their grouchy neighbor, shuffled into view, his perpetual scowl in place.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Davis!” I chirped, trying to soften his hard expression. He grumbled something under his breath and disappeared into his house without so much as a nod. Just like Kate—miserable and unsociable.
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Back inside, I noticed dust on the furniture again. Kate was on maternity leave—surely, she could spare time to clean. Andrew deserved a better-kept home after all his hard work.
Later, Kate returned to the house and started preparing dinner. Naturally, I offered her a few helpful tips, but my advice seemed to fall on deaf ears. Eventually, she turned and said coldly, “Please, just leave the kitchen.”
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That evening, as Andrew came through the door, I heard her complaining to him. Leaning close to the wall, I caught snippets of their conversation.
“We discussed this,” Andrew said, his tone measured. “It’ll benefit everyone.”
“I know,” Kate replied with a weary sigh. “I’m already trying, but it’s harder than you think.”
When I peeked around the corner, I saw Andrew embracing her, his arms wrapped protectively around her growing belly. He comforted her as if she were the victim here!
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At dinner, I couldn’t resist pointing out that her pie was undercooked.
“I have an idea,” Kate said suddenly, her tone too cheerful to be genuine. “Why don’t you bake a pie yourself and bring it to Mr. Davis?”
I frowned. “That grump? He doesn’t even greet me,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at her.
“I think you’re mistaken. He’s not so bad—just shy,” she said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
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I laughed, the sound hollow. “If that’s true, he’s the one who should make the first move. A man should court a lady.”
Kate sighed, her gaze shifting to Andrew, who squeezed her hand as if sharing a secret.
The next morning, the last thing I expected was to see Mr. Davis approaching the yard.
“Margaret,” he began stiffly, his posture as awkward as his tone. “Would you… well… have dinner with me?”
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“For you, it’s Miss Miller,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
His lips twitched in frustration. “Alright, Miss Miller,” he corrected himself. “Would you allow me to invite you to dinner?”
“I allow it,” I said, crossing my arms. He nodded curtly and turned to leave.
“Is that how you invite someone?” I called after him, watching him freeze mid-step. “When? Where?”
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“Tonight at seven. My house,” he said without turning back.
The rest of the day was a flurry of preparation. By seven sharp, I stood at his door, my heart unexpectedly fluttering. When he opened the door, his expression was as grim as ever.
Inside, he gestured for me to sit at the table. Not even a pulled-out chair—some gentleman.
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During dinner, the conversation was stilted until I mentioned my love for jazz. His face transformed, his usual gloom replaced by a boyish enthusiasm.
“I’d play my favorite record for you,” he said, his voice softer now. “And I’d even invite you to dance, but my record player’s broken.”
“You don’t need music to dance,” I said, surprising myself.
To my astonishment, he rose and extended his hand. As we swayed in the dim light, he hummed a familiar tune, one I hadn’t heard in years. Something inside me softened, and for the first time in ages, I didn’t feel alone.
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Afterward, I turned to him. “Mr. Davis, it’s getting late. I should go home.”
He nodded silently, his usual reserved demeanor returning, and walked me to the door.
Before I stepped outside, he hesitated. “You can call me Peter,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
“And you can call me Margaret,” I replied, smiling.
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Then, to my astonishment, he leaned in. For a moment, I froze, uncertain, but when his lips brushed mine, I realized I didn’t want to pull away.
The kiss was gentle and hesitant, but it stirred something I hadn’t felt in years.
As he pulled back, he searched my face for a reaction. I simply smiled, my heart lighter than it had been in ages.
“Good night, Peter,” I said softly, stepping outside. The cool night air met my flushed cheeks, but the smile stayed on my face all the way home—and long after.
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Peter became an irreplaceable part of my days. We spent hours together, laughing over neighborhood gossip, reading books from his vast collection, and trying our hands at new recipes.
While I cooked, he’d hum my favorite songs, filling the house with warmth.
I found a joy I hadn’t known in years, a quiet contentment that made everything else fade.
Kate’s sharp remarks no longer bothered me; my world revolved around Peter.
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On Thanksgiving, I invited him to dinner so he wouldn’t spend the day alone. I noticed him slipping into the kitchen to speak with Kate. Curious, I followed.
“Kate, I wanted to talk to you about the record player,” Peter said, his voice hesitant but firm.
“Mr. Davis, I’ve already ordered it. It’ll arrive soon. You have no idea how grateful I am,” Kate replied with a hint of relief. “You’ve made my life so much easier. I don’t know how you put up with her, but soon the record player will be yours. Thank you for agreeing to this whole charade.”
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The words hit me like a slap. A record player? Putting up with me? A charade? The realization burned through me as anger surged.
“So, this was all a game?!” I burst into the kitchen, my voice trembling with fury.
Kate froze, her face pale. “Oh…” was all she managed.
“Care to explain?!” I shouted, my gaze darting between her and Peter.
Andrew rushed in, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s going on?”
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“Your wife concocted some scheme against me!” I exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Kate.
Andrew sighed deeply. It was as if he was bracing himself for a storm. “Mom, it wasn’t just her. It was my idea too. We thought you and Mr. Davis might make each other happy. Neither of you would have made the first move, so we gave him a little… encouragement.”
“Encouragement?” I repeated, my voice rising.
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“We offered him a record player,” Andrew admitted, his tone measured but guilty. “In exchange for going on dates with you.”
“Andrew, why?” Kate whispered.
“At least my son is honest with me!” I snapped, crossing my arms.
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“Your son was also at his wit’s end with you!” Kate shot back, her voice tinged with frustration. “You were constantly interfering in our lives, nitpicking every little thing I did. And I’m pregnant with your grandchild—I couldn’t handle the stress! So yes, we came up with this plan, and it worked perfectly. You finally had something to do, and I got a break!”
Her words hung in the air, stinging more than I cared to admit. I shook my head, disbelief coursing through me. “You know what, Peter? I could have expected this from her. But not from you.”
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“Margaret, I can explain…” Peter began, stepping toward me.
But I was too angry to listen. I stormed out of the house, my old leg injury reminding me of its presence with every step.
“Margaret!” Peter called after me. “Margaret, wait!”
Spinning around, I glared at him. “What?! What could you possibly say? I’m too old for these games!”
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He stopped, his face clouded with regret. “I told Kate I didn’t need her record player! That I just wanted to be with you!” he shouted, his voice raw with emotion.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you agreed to it at first,” I retorted, my voice trembling.
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“Because you were awful!” Peter snapped, then softened. “Or at least, that’s what I thought. I heard how you constantly picked on Kate, always telling her what to do. But the truth is, I wasn’t any better—grumpy, closed off, and bitter. You changed me, Margaret. You made me feel alive again. You reminded me how to find joy in the little things.”
I hesitated, his words piercing through my anger. “Why should I believe you?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
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Peter stepped closer, his gaze steady. “Because I’ve fallen for you, Margaret. For the meticulous, bossy, always-right woman who also cares so deeply, who cooks meals that feel like home, and who knows all my favorite songs by heart. I love you—all of you.”
Tears welled in my eyes, his confession shaking me to my core. The truth was undeniable—I had fallen for him too. No matter how furious I was, my feelings wouldn’t let me walk away.
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He reached out, gently brushing a tear from my cheek. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Please, give me a second chance.”
I nodded slowly, letting the tension ease. “Alright,” I said, my voice softening. “But you’re keeping that record player from Kate. We’ll need it for our music.” Peter laughed, relief and joy washing over his face.
From that Thanksgiving on, Peter and I were inseparable. Each year, we celebrated the holiday with music playing on that record player, our love growing stronger with every tune.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While navigating a difficult divorce, Ellis meets a bold young man at a bar who offers to transform her life. His charm and confidence seem like the perfect distraction, but their connection soon leads to unexpected revelations that force Ellis to confront her past — and her family — in ways she never anticipated.
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Millionaire Pretends to Be Poor Meeting the Parents of His Son’s Fiancee — Story of the Day
A girl’s parents are against her marrying a nice young guy who they think is poor, so his millionaire father pretends to be broke and teaches them a lesson.
When Sam Sutton discovered a way to make an unbreakable sealant for engines everyone wanted, he never imagined that it would one day affect the love life of his then-infant son, Will.
Sam’s discovery brought immediate improvements to the family’s life as it happened. He started making a lot of money on that sealant’s patent. Sam, his wife, and his baby son moved to a lovely house and got a new car.
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As the years passed, there was more money than Sam had ever imagined. His little family was comfortable, and that’s all he cared about. The extraordinary sums his lawyer kept reporting on seemed quite unreal.
Then something terrible happened to Sam and his family, and all those millions piled up in the bank made no difference. Sam’s wife, Rain, became very ill. Sam kept telling doctors money was no object, but they just shook their heads.
There are two things in life that money can’t buy: love and good health. Sam found out about the first in the most painful way when Rain passed away, and he’d find out about the second when Will grew up.
Being a single dad to a growing boy wasn’t easy, so maybe Sam made a few mistakes. Will was so kind, loving, and unspoiled that Sam lavished everything he could afford on him — and Sam could afford anything.
So, in high school, Will’s colleagues quickly realized that his dad was very rich and generous — and so was Will. Quickly, Will became the most popular guy — not because of his kindness or amazing good looks, but because of his dad’s money.
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Girls, in particular, swarmed around Will like bees around a honey pot. At first, Will liked it, but gradually, he realized they didn’t want him. They wanted his dad’s money and all the luxury it could buy.
Will told weeping Sam that the girl he was in love with didn’t really care for him. She just cared about going along on their private plane for the Sutton family trips to Aspen, Veil, and the Bahamas.
Sam comforted his son and encouraged him to break up with that girl. The rest of Will’s senior year in high school was pretty lonely, but he had a plan. “Dad,” he said, “I have a plan.”
Sam grinned. “OK! What’s your plan?””I’m going to Yale in the fall, but I want everyone to think I’m a scholarship student.”
Sam blinked in astonishment. “A scholarship student? You? But why?”
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“Well.” Will said, “if I’m poor and I wear scruffy clothes, people won’t be my friends unless they really like me. Girls won’t want to date me for our money.”
“That’s very true, Will,” Sam said. “I think that’s a brilliant plan!”
And so they put the plan in motion. Will and Sam bought all his clothes and equipment second-hand, and Will was the scruffiest, poorest-looking student you ever saw.
Money can’t buy love and good health.
The plan worked because Will quickly found many great, sincere friends, and he even met a girl he liked, and she felt the same way, too. By his third year at Yale, Will was so in love with that girl.
Her name was Eddy — for Edwina — and he decided he wanted to marry her. Sam was a little worried that Will might be too young, but he married young, too, and he’d been very happy.
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So Will proposed to Eddy, and she said yes. Eddy took Will home to meet her parents that Thanksgiving, which was a disaster. Eddy’s parents, Marta and Farlow, were well-to-do and proud of their social position.
They wanted their beautiful daughter to marry a rich man, not a shabby third-year science major, no matter how smart, handsome, or funny. They were subtly unpleasant to Will but not enough that Eddy could complain.
Eddy, who had accepted Will’s proposal, proudly displayed the tiny diamond he’d given her as if it were the Kohinoor. She insisted that Will and his father join her family for the Christmas celebrations. Marta and Fallow were horrified, but they smiled, agreed, and made their plan.
Will and Sam took a Greyhound from their mansion in New Hampshire to Eddy’s family’s beach house in Narragansett to join the family for Christmas.
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Eddy’s dad picked them up from the bus terminal, and the fun began. Farlow looked Sam up and down and sniffed. (Sam had gone shopping at the local Goodwill store and gone a little overboard.)
Sam didn’t look just poor; he looked almost homeless. Farlow drove them to their big house, and he talked about his wealth, his houses, and his cars. “I’ll have you know,” he said to Sam, “that I’ve done very well by my family. We live in comfort — to be honest, we live in luxury.
“Not everyone is used to that, of course, and we understand that, but we hope you and Will will be able to fit in. Christmas is very important to us.”
“It’s important to us too,” Sam said. As it turned out, Marta and Farlow’s idea of Christmas was to splurge on towers of expensive presents and show everyone they knew how successful they were.
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The next few days were a nightmare. Farlow and Marta didn’t miss a chance to show Sam they believed their daughter was way out of his son’s league.
“Eddy is a wealthy young woman, Sam,” Marta said. “And her husband must be able to give her the same lifestyle. I know you’ve not done as well for Will…”
Eddy became aware of her parents’ campaign to humiliate Sam, and she was furious. So she talked with her parents. “I’m going to marry Will,” she said. “And Sam’s going to be family, so get used to it.”
“But darling,” cried her mother, “the man is a derelict! Have you seen his clothes? He’s an embarrassment.”
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“Believe me, mom,” Eddy said angrily, “you are much more of an embarrassment than Sam could ever be!” Eddy could not have known that Sam was listening, and he smiled. She loved Will! He’d found his one-in-a-million girl.
That night was Christmas Eve, and when the family gathered around the tree at midnight to exchange gifts, Marta said with an unpleasant smile, “You mustn’t feel bad, Sam, we know you’re struggling!”
Marta and Farlow handed Will a box with a car key inside. “It’s an early wedding present,” Farlow said. “We thought you needed a better car. Your old clunker is at least twenty years old, Will!”
Will smiled and thanked Marta and Farlow, and they all went outside to admire the Porsche sitting in the garage with a big red bow on it. Farlow threw Sam a triumphant look and smirked. He knew that Sam could never top that gesture, could he?
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Then Sam took an envelope out of his pocket. “Eddy,” he said. “Will told me you two plan to move to New York when you graduate.”
“That’s right, Sam! You know he has an offer from a New York research facility, and I have an internship at the Met…”
“Well, finding a place to live in Manhattan isn’t easy, so I hope this helps…” Sam gave the envelope to Eddy.
Farlow sneered. “What’s that? A list of homeless shelters in the Upper East Side? A guide to the Best Brooklyn soup kitchens?”
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Eddy opened the envelope and gasped. “Sam!” she whispered. “Is this for real?” She showed Will the sheaf of papers inside the envelope, and Will ran to embrace his dad.
Farlow and Marta looked from one to the other in surprise. Then Eddy turned to her parents. “Sam’s given Will and I the deed to a brownstone in Tribeca. He’s given us a home.”
Marta and Farlow looked at each other, their mouths hanging open. “But…but…but…” gasped Farlow. “You’re POOR…The way you dress…You took the bus…”
“Well, Farlow,” said Sam gently. “I want my son to be loved and accepted for himself, not for the $570 million he will eventually inherit from me.”
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There were no more objections to the wedding from Eddy’s parents. In fact, they became Will’s biggest fans and were very polite and respectful of Sam. The following summer, Will and Eddy married and moved to New York. When they welcomed their little daughter, Rain, three years later, Sam bought himself a house next door so he could be close to them.
What can we learn from this story?
- Money can’t buy love and good health. Sam knew that if people knew he was rich, they’d get close to his son for his money.
- Don’t judge people by their appearance. Farlow and Marta despised Sam for his shabby clothes and never imagined he was a millionaire.
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