When his voice cracked through the phone, it took me a full five seconds to register who it was. “Hi. It’s Josh.
I… I need a favor.”
Josh. My hostile stepson. The boy who once looked me straight in the eye and said, “You can’t buy your way into being my mom.”
I hadn’t heard from him in five years.
But suddenly, he was calling—with news and a request that nearly stopped my heart. Let me take you back. Josh moved in with us when he was sixteen, after years of living with his mother.
From the moment he stepped through the front door, he made one thing clear: I was an outsider. His father, David, tried to play peacemaker. “He’s just hurting,” he’d say while I cried quietly behind closed doors.
But Josh didn’t want peace. He wanted control. Every meal I cooked was compared to his mother’s.
A pair of crutches leaning against a wall | Source: Unsplash
Every word I said was met with an eye-roll. He called my watercolor paintings “old lady art” and told David I was “just someone passing through.”
When he reached his senior year, David began worrying about college expenses. Josh’s grades were okay—not great—but David’s business was tanking.
That’s when I made a choice. I offered to pay for Josh’s college. Not to win him over, but to give him the opportunity I never had.
Josh didn’t even blink. “You can’t buy your way into being my mom,” he said with venom in his voice. Worse?
David nodded in agreement. So I backed off. I withdrew, quietly, without theatrics.
When Josh juggled night shifts and community college, I said nothing. When he dropped out after two semesters, I stayed silent. Fast forward five years.
My phone rings. Josh. He’s getting married—to someone named Kelsey.
“Destination wedding,” he said. “Costa Rica. Expensive.
We’re hoping family can help.”
I wasn’t invited. He made that clear. But he still expected a check.
“If you care about this family, you’ll help make it happen.”
I told him I’d think about it. David was thrilled. “This could fix everything,” he said.
“It’s a chance.”
A smiling woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
I agreed to host a dinner for Josh and Kelsey. “I’ll give them a check,” I said with a smile David couldn’t quite decipher. Friday night came.
They arrived late. Kelsey wore a fake smile and a designer handbag she hadn’t paid for. Josh looked smug.
Dinner was stiff. Then came the pitch. Kelsey pulled out Pinterest boards and ran through the budget like we were investors.
“Seventy-five thousand,” she said casually. I stood up, retrieved a folder from my office, and set it down on the table. Inside: a check for the full amount—and a contract.
Josh’s eyes narrowed. “What is this?”
“You want a wedding? Great.
But you sign this first.”
He read it. And as his eyes moved line by line, his face shifted. In exchange for the funds, he would formally acknowledge me as his mother.
Include me in every holiday, milestone, and family event. Refer to me as “Mom” from this day forward. He hesitated—but the money was too good.
He signed. Then I leaned forward, took the contract, and whispered, “You just proved I could buy my way in. I just had to wait until you had a price.”
He blanched.
The interior of a messy garage | Source: Midjourney
Kelsey looked horrified. Then I walked to the fireplace, dropped the folder in, and watched it burn. The ink curled.
The check dissolved into smoke. “You’re insane!” Josh shouted. “No,” I replied calmly, placing a second envelope on the table.
