“Mom, my mother-in-law is living with us… and she’s making our lives miserable. Please come to the family meeting tomorrow,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Mom, my mother in law is living with us and she is making our lives miserable, so please come to the family meeting tomorrow,” my son Wesley said in a quiet whisper. He called me on a Thursday night with that tense tone he only uses when things are completely spiraling out of control.

I was sitting on the sofa in my Miami apartment while I stared blankly at a television program on the screen. I had spent twenty years building my interior design studio one project at a time until I could finally buy that house in Naples for nearly two and a half million dollars.

The deed was still in my name even though they lived there, and they paid a symbolic rent that I never actually bothered to collect. I always believed that my hard earned money should be used to ensure that Wesley never had to repeat my years of struggle and hardship.

I met Beverly, who is Skylar’s mother, for the first time on the day of the civil wedding ceremony. She wore an expensive dress and heavy perfume while maintaining a smile that never quite reached her cold eyes.