When I noticed our front door ajar and trash spread across the porch, I knew something was seriously wrong. But nothing could have prepared me for the turmoil inside or the unexpected turn of events that occurred.
I sat on the side of the bed, peering out the window and letting the quiet buzz of the city fill the solitude. My husband, Ethan, was packing our suitcases in the next room, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about how different our lives were from his brother, Stan.
Ethan and I had created our lives from the ground up. We weren’t wealthy, but we weren’t struggling either. We had this humble, cozy house, which we’d filled with love and plenty memories. It was our sanctuary.
Despite coming from an affluent background, Ethan had always aspired to forge his own path in the world. He worked hard and never asked for handouts, even though his father, Howard, almost pushed him to join the family firm.
Stan, on the other hand, was an altogether different tale. He relished on the comforts that accompanied their father’s wealth. Stan has never had a real career other than working for their father.
Even there, he didn’t truly “work.” He simply came there, smiled, and enjoyed the benefits of being the boss’s son. Luxury cars, exclusive events, and fancy clothing. He enjoyed it all.
But it wasn’t just about material possessions. Stan was irresponsible. He had an overinflated sense of entitlement. If he desired something, he took it without question.
I sighed and pushed those thoughts away. Ethan stuck his head inside the room. “You ready?” he inquired, closing up the last suitcase.
“Almost,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about how nice it will be to get away for a bit. We both need this.”
He smiled back. “Yeah, we really do.”
We were preparing to embark on a week-long vacation. A rare break from our daily routines.
We hadn’t been away for this long in years, and we’d left Stan in charge of our home. Just a simple favor: feed the cat, water the plants, and check your mail. I wasn’t delighted with the concept, but Ethan insisted.
“Stan will be fine,” he’d said a few days ago, sensing my hesitation. “It’s not a big deal. He can handle it.”
I had doubts, but what could possibly go wrong in a week?
However, as we pulled into the driveway seven days later, my stomach fell.
The front door was slightly ajar, and there were cans, bottles, and rubbish scattered around the porch.
“Ethan…” I whispered, gripping his arm. “What happened?”
His face clouded. Without saying anything, he pushed the door open, and we entered. The air smelt foul, like stale beer, smoke, and something burnt. I blinked, attempting to make sense of the situation in front of me.
The living room was unrecognizable. Furniture was toppled, broken glass crunched beneath our feet, and dirty dishes were strewn about.
What about the walls? They were splattered with what appeared to be food, including pizza sauce, mustard, and who knows what else.
“What the hell?” Ethan’s voice died off as he stepped farther into the home. “Stan! “What did you do?”
I followed him into the kitchen, where I saw the blackened stove and melted cabinets. Something had burst. There was no doubt about it.
“First of all, congrats on getting a new house.”
“Ethan,” I gasped, “this is insane!”
He paced back and forth while running his hands through his hair. “How could he do this? He was supposed to just watch the house, not throw a frat party!”
I reached for my phone, fingers trembling as I dialed Stan’s number. It went directly to voicemail. I called again. Nothing.
“Stan!” Ethan yelled into the void. “Answer your freakin’ phone!”
Panic rose within me as I watched Ethan struggle to put together what had happened. We trusted him. “We need answers,” I said, pulling up my mother-in-law’s phone number.
She picked up on the second ring. “Aubrey, honey, how was your trip?” she inquired, her voice calm and lovely, unaware of the fury gathering on our end.
“Celeste,” I interrupted, “do you know where Stan is? We just got home, and the house… it’s ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴏʏᴇᴅ!”
I could feel my heart race as I grasped the phone, waiting for Celeste to explain what had happened to Stan. My thoughts were racing with possibilities, but nothing could have prepared me for her next words.
“Oh, you don’t know?” Celeste said, her voice far too calm for the situation. “First of all, congrats on getting a new house, and second, you won’t be seeing Stan for a while because, well, he’s unavailable.”
“Unavailable?” I repeated, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”
There was a gap before she continued, as if she was gathering her thoughts or perhaps trying to sugarcoat what she was about to say to me.
“After one of his infamous parties,” she said, her tone a blend of exasperation and something that almost sounded like relief, “Stan forgot to turn off the gas in your kitchen. It caused a small explosion.”
I felt as if the floor had been pulled out from under me. “An explosion?! Celeste, our kitchen is ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴏʏᴇᴅ!”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She sighed, as if referring to a recalcitrant child who had caused yet another mess.
“Your father-in-law found Stan drunk and out of his mind in your house. The explosion wasn’t big, but it scared him enough to finally take action. Stan’s been, let’s just say his days of playing executive are over. Howard’s had enough.”
I pressed the phone harder to my ear, my blood boiling. “What do you mean ‘had enough?’ What exactly did Howard do?”
Celeste didn’t hesitate this time. “Howard demoted him. Stan’s not going to be his right-hand man anymore. He’s going to be a truck driver for the company. Howard’s sending him on a month-long haul. It’s supposed to teach him some responsibility.”
I blinked, speechless. Ethan was still in the kitchen doorway, looking at me with wide eyes, waiting for me to explain what his mother had just said. “Wait, wait,” I stammered. “He’s sending Stan on a cross-country trip? Driving trucks?”
“Yes,” Celeste replied, and I could hear a hint of satisfaction in her voice. “It’s about time someone put him in his place. I guess that explosion was the final straw.”
Ethan moved closer, his eyes narrowing in amazement. “What is she saying?”
I covered the mouthpiece for a second. “Stan’s been demoted to a truck driver,” I whispered, still processing the words myself.
“What?” Ethan’s jaw dropped, his face a combination of sh0ck and anger. “That’s unbelievable.”
But Celeste wasn’t done. “Oh, and there’s one more thing, dear. Your father-in-law was planning to buy Stan a new house, you know, something extravagant, as a reward for his work. But after all this mess, he’s decided it’s yours instead. Howard said you two deserve it more.”
I almost dropped the phone. “What?”
“You heard me right,” Celeste said, her tone softening. “It’s yours. The papers will be sorted out soon. Congratulations, Aubrey.”
I stood there in stunned silence, my palm shaking as I grasped the phone. Ethan glanced at me with perplexity and hope on his face. “What did she say?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “The house, the one Howard was going to give to Stan, is ours now.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, she said we’re getting the house. Karma, I guess.”
For a minute, neither of us spoke. The truth of what had just transpired began to sink in.
Stan had demolished our house, left it in ruins, and caused an explosion, but we had somehow come out better. It did not make sense, but I was not going to challenge it.
Ethan finally released the breath he’d been holding and leaned against the counter. “I can’t believe this. I mean, it’s what he deserves, but I didn’t expect this.”
“Neither did I.” I shook my head, my mind racing. “I was so angry at him, Ethan. I still am. But this is bigger than that. He’s been living this reckless life for years, and now he has to face the consequences.”
Ethan nodded slowly, and the strain in his shoulders began to ease. “He does. But I still don’t know how we’re supposed to clean this up.” He gestured to the wreckage around us.
I laughed, despite everything, a little hysterical. “Well, at least we have a new house to look forward to.”
Ethan cracked a small smile, finally. “Yeah. A new house.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I guess we should call Dad and thank him, huh?”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah. But first, I think I need to sit down.”
We both collapsed on the only item of furniture that was not broken: a chair in the corner. We sat there for a minute, surrounded by Stan’s mess, trying to process what had just happened.
Ethan reached over and squeezed my hand. “I guess karma’s got a way of working things out.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly, staring at the chaos around us. “It really does.”
As the sh0ck subsided, I realized that, while Stan had destroyed our home, he had not ruined us. If anything, we were leaving with more than we had expected. A new house. A fresh start.
Perhaps this was the wake-up call Stan needed as well.
“Let’s just hope he learns from this,” Ethan muttered.
I nodded, though I wasn’t holding my breath. “We’ll see.”
