John mysteriously vanished. “What the heck?” I muttered to myself, thinking that he probably went to the bathroom before we boarded.Later, I spotted him again at the gate, looking unusually calm. “Where have you been?” I asked, balancing Ethan on my hip. “Just taking care of something,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips.
“And I needed to grab a pair of headphones.”“Did you get me a pair?” I asked him. “No,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d need one because you’d have to worry about Ethan.” I couldn’t believe my ears.
Who was this man? But that wasn’t all. As we boarded, John handed me our boarding passes, with his looking different from ours. “John, why do you have a business class ticket?” I asked, feeling crushed.My husband shrugged nonchalantly. “I can’t deal with you and the kid right now. I need some peace and quiet for once.
We’re going to be dealing with a lot of family from this evening.” I bit back my anger for the duration of the flight. I didn’t have any other option but the thought of John reclining with a glass of champagne while Ethan pulled on my hair and fussed throughout.“Try patting him on the back,” the woman next to me suggested. “Maybe that will calm him down.” I smiled at her, not wanting to growl because my son had driven my patience to almost nonexistent. “Thank you,” I replied as Ethan reached out a sticky hand to swat the woman’s hair.
It was one of the longest flights of my life, and by the time we arrived, my frustration had morphed into cold fury. Of course, John was oblivious to my mood as we headed to his parents’ place. “It’s so wonderful to see you!
How was the flight?” John’s mother, Amy, said, taking Ethan from my arms.I forced a smile. “It was fine, Mrs. Smith,” I said. “Ethan was a bit restless, but we managed.” John’s father, Jacob, eyed us keenly. “And you, John?” he asked. “How was your flight?” John grinned, completely missing the tension that was filling up the room. “Oh, it was fantastic! Business class is really something else. I see why everyone opts for it if they can.”My father-in-law’s expression hardened slightly, but he remained silent.
The next day, we were all supposed to go out for a family dinner. “It’s just tradition for us to go to the restaurant when family is over,” Amy said as she played with Ethan. “Dress warm, Claire, it’s been getting a nippy at night.”Just as we were getting ready to leave, Mr. Smith called John into his study. “John, your mother and I will take care of Claire and Ethan tonight. You, however, will stay here and prepare the house for the rest of the guests. Your brother will be here in the morning. The beds have to be made up,” Jacob said firmly. My husband was taken aback. “But it’s our family dinner, Dad,” John said.
“I’ve been looking forward to it.” “Tonight, you’ll understand what it feels like to be left behind,” Jacob continued.John tried to argue, but Mr. Smith wouldn’t budge at all. We left for dinner, and John had no choice but to stay behind and sort the house out for the rest of his family.
When we returned, the house was spotless, and John was fuming but silent. “Oh, but that’s not all,” Jacob said to me as I headed upstairs to put Ethan down later that night. “What do you mean?” I asked nervously. “You’ll see tomorrow,” he said, smiling, as he walked to his bedroom.The next morning, as we sat down to breakfast, my father-in-law sat John down with a detailed list of chores that he needed to do. “Cleaning the garage? Really, Dad? And fixing the fence? Mowing the lawn?” John complained. “Why are you doing this?
Usually, you hire people for this.” Mr. Smith’s gaze was unwavering. “You need to learn the value of family and hard work. You don’t get to escape your responsibilities because you feel like it or because there’s an easy way out. You will spend the rest of the week making up for what you did to Claire and Ethan.” John looked shocked, finally realizing that his business class escape came with consequences.He spent the rest of the week maintaining the entire property. And each evening, his work was checked by his father, ensuring that it was done right. “I am exhausted,” he said one evening as he flopped onto the bed. “And I really wanted to go strawberry picking with you, Ethan, and my mom today.
But I had to paint the fence.” I almost felt sorry for him. But not enough to take the bait. I knew that during his time cleaning and mending around the house, he had plenty of time to reflect on his actions.The day before we were set to leave, my husband came to me, his eyes filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry for everything,” he said quietly. “I understand now how hard it is and how much I took you for granted.”
“It’s not just about understanding, John. It’s about being there, every step of the way,” I said, folding our clothes. He promised to be better, and I believed that he was sincere. But it seemed that my father-in-law had one more card to play.“Your business class ticket for the return flight has been canceled and exchanged for an economy seat. But Claire and Ethan will travel in business class. You can manage on your own this time, John,” he said. My husband’s face dropped as he realized the implications of his father’s swap.
He tried to protest, but Mr. Smith was adamant, stressing that John needed to understand the value of family and empathy through firsthand experience.“I’m so sorry,” John said when we got to the airport. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I just wanted a moment of peace. Work has been a lot.” “It’s okay,” I replied, holding onto Ethan. “But things have to change when we get home. Okay, John?” He nodded slowly and kissed my forehead before we had to separate and board the flight.
