I never imagined the elegant dinner invitation from my rich daughter-in-law would be a nightmare. I knew I had to give her a lesson she would never forget, though, when she left me with a $5,375 bill; I simply knew how it would turn out.
Ruth is my name, and after forty years of teaching, I just hung my chalk. Veronica, the wife of my son Michael, asked me to join in celebrating. She is a hot shot lawyer with all designer outfits and power lunches.
On the phone, she had advised not to worry about the expense. “My treat is this.”
I should have known better, but the gesture so moved me that I disregarded my gut feeling. I had no idea, though, this dinner would turn everything around.
“That’s very kind of you, Veronica,” I said. Are you positive?
She had insisted, “Absolutely.” “You deserve it after so long of molding young brains.”
The restaurant was the sort of venue where the menu lacked pricing. As we arrived, the maître d’ looked me down and up, her eyebrow rising slightly at my practical shoes and department store clothing.
Perched at a table next to the window, we could see the downtown skyline. Among the clean white tables and sparkling glassware, I felt uncomfortable.
Turning over the wine list, Veronica asked Ruth, “So, Ruth, how does it feel to be retired?”
I poked about with my napkin. To be honest, Slightly unusual. What should I do with myself is not clear-cut.
She nodded vaguely then turned to the sommelier. We will have the 2015 Château Margaux.
We talked about family, my former employment, her work. For once, I assumed we were strengthening our friendship.
Veronica commented, sipping her wine, “You must be glad to be done with all those wild kids.”
“Oh, I will miss them,” I said. “My life’s work was teaching.” Every pupil was different, a riddle to figure out.
She nodded, but I could see glazing over her eyes. She told the waiter without even looking at the menu when he arrived.
“The usual,” she responded, waving her hand. “And for my mother-in-law — she stopped, staring at me expectingly.
Startled, “Oh, um, I’ll have the chicken, please.”
The waiter bowed and went away. Veronica started a narrative about her most recent court case, hardly stopping for air.
Though my mind strayed, I tried to follow along. I considered my classroom, now run-down by a younger instructor. Would she treat it as I had?
“Ruth?” Are you hearing? Veronica’s harsh voice caught me back to focus.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Simply immersed in contemplation for a time.
She groaned. “The judge totally decided in our favor as I was speaking. The win was a landslide one.
Not knowing exactly what she meant, I nodded and grinned. My stomach started to hurt as the evening progressed. Though I couldn’t identify exactly what was wrong.
Veronica excused herself after we finished dining. “I’ll just drop over to the ladies’ room,” she added. Be right back.
Fifteen minutes elapsed. thirty then thirty. The waiter kept sidelining me, his kind face strained.
At last he started to approach. “Madam, are you prepared to pay the bill?
The total—$5,375—made my heart stop almost completely.
I sputtered, “I — I’m sorry.” “My daughter-in-law asked to invite me. She reportedly indicated she would pay.
The face of the waiter grew stiff. Maybe you would like to phone her?
I do. Straight to Voiced Mail.
That is when it dawned on me. She had planned this from start. It was like a kick to the gut when I realized. But a different feeling started to replace the shock as it wore off: resolve.
Breathing deeply, I grinned at the waiter. “It seems I have been abandoned,” I remarked coolly. But relax; I will take care of it.
I turned over my credit card, hoping it would not be rejected. It was not, but I knew I would be eating ramen for months.
Plans were whirling through my head as I left the eatery. Though I’m old, I’m not at all helpless.
I called my old buddy Carla early the next morning. She runs a cleaning business and enjoys a nasty sense of humor.
“Carla, I need a favor.,” I said. “How would you like to clean the largest house in town?”
Ruth, what are you supposed to be doing? She started to laugh. “This does not sound like your typical ask.”
I told her about my scheme. She was quite willing to assist.
She answered, “Oh, honey, I have just the team for this work.” We’ll leave that spot glittering, maybe hiding some secrets.
A little smile started on my lips as I hung up the phone. Phase one was finished; I wasn’t quite done.
I then gave Charmaine, a buddy from book club, a call, my attorney friend. Ever since I helped her kid pass her English tests, she has always had a tender feeling for me.
“Charmaine, how much would it cost to sue someone for emotional misery?”
She chuckled. Ruth, you’re not really serious here. Unlike you, this is not like.
I answered, “Dead serious.” Still, I really do not want to sue. I just need to frighten someone.
She caught on fast and responded, “Ah.” “Well, in that case, I believe we can create something quite appropriately horrific. Clearly pro bono.
One week later I asked Veronica over for tea. Her heels clicking on my linoleum floor, she danced in like nothing had happened.
“Ruth, how wonderful to see you,” she said. “I hope you had a great dinner out.”
I put a nice smile on it. Of course, I did. I actually have a small bit for you to say thanks.
I produced an envelope for her. Her immaculate nails cut it open.
Her face changed from haughtiness to startled pale as she read.
“You, you’re suing me?” She began to splutter, her composure breaking.
“Unless you agree to my terms,” I stated coolly, drawing on my best stern teacher voice.
Her lips drawn in a tiny line, she shot me. “What phrases?”
“You will first openly regret what you did. Second, you will cover any legal fees as well as the bill. And third, you will start treating me with dignity.
Veronica seems to have swallowed a lemon. You are not serious. Do you know what this may do to my standing?
Try me, I urged, my voice sharp. “I know how to handle troublemakers even though I might be retired.”
She looked at me for a long time before deflating. Alright. I’ll take care of it. But this remains between us, understood?
I stretched out my hand. “Shake on it??”
She did, with a feeble and clammy grip. I thought about whether I had stretched too far as we shook hands. Would this strategy backfire quite spectacularly?
Veronica’s apology was everywhere on social media the next day. Suddenly, my bank account was $5,500 more affluent. The best part, though, still had to wait.
Carla’s crew swooped onto Veronica’s estate like a swarm of housekeepers. They left no corner unspoiled and cleaned every surface, even every drawer.
And in the master bedroom they left a wonderfully wrapped gift.
Inside was a list, every sarcastic remark, every eye roll, every backhanded praise Veronica had ever sent my way. Additionally noted is “a clean slate for a fresh start.” Let us treat one another better going forward.
When my phone rang, I was drinking tea. It was Veronica. I answered and my heart shot into my throat.
Her voice husky, she said, “Ruth.” I — I have no idea what to say.
“How about ‘I’m sorry”? Keeping a lighthearted tone, I advised.
A protracted silence followed. To my astonishment, then, I heard laughter.
“You really did get me, didn’t you?” She responded. “I never thought you had it in you.”
“Just a little reminder about respect,” I said. Also never undervalue a retiring teacher.
She finally said, “I deserved it.” Can we — can we start over?
Grinning, I felt a weight off my shoulders. Veronica, I would like that.
Things altered that day and going forward. Veronica began phoning more frequently, seeking guidance, even extending an invitation to me for laid-back dinners—which she paid for.
She asked me last week to assist organize Michael’s surprise birthday celebration.
She said, “I need your experience.” You know him best, after all.
I marveled at how far we had come as we sat at her kitchen table reviewing party plans.
“You know, Veronica began abruptly, “I never thanked you properly.”
I looked up, shocked. “For what?”
She reached out to squeeze my hand and said, “For teaching me a lesson I’ll never forget.” Ruth, you are tougher than you appear.
I gushed. Well, I spent four decades wrangling middle schoolers.
She laughed. “Please never let me cross you once more. You pulled all that, and I still find it unbelievable.
“Let’s say I had some experience handling troublemakers,” I winked.
I became warm in my chest as we returned to our preparation. Sometimes the exact thing required to straighten things up is a little rough love.
Also, who knows? Perhaps one day I will even share our small trip with Michael. For now, though, our secret is that respect is earned rather than given.
Even if you must impart that knowledge the hard way. lazy? Though I left the classroom, I am not yet done teaching.
Regarding what you would have done,