My rich in-laws avoided paying at dinner by “forgetting” their wallets for years. No one knew my mom was ready when they invited her to a posh restaurant, expecting she’d fall for it. This time, their scheme failed terribly.
Family meant commitment, honesty, and supporting each other, I was taught.
My parents taught me that character is measured by what a person gives, not what they have.
We weren’t rich, but we always helped others and paid our share.
Marrying my husband brought reality home.
My husband’s family had everything money could buy: a large house in the prettiest part of town, fancy automobiles in their heated garage, and trips to magazine-only locales.
Despite their wealth, they never paid their portion at restaurants, which made my stomach tighten every time we met.
“They did it again,” I told my husband, Dan, after his parents left a restaurant while he was in the restroom, leaving us $300. “Your dad literally pretended to get a phone call!”
Dan grumbled and pulled out his credit card, slumped. Yes, I know. This has always been so.”
“They have too much money!” Mom’s purse cost more than our rent!”
“I’ve attempted to discuss it with them. I truly don’t understand. They don’t care about that kind of money, therefore it’s fine.”
It became a terrible pattern of complicated ordering, pricey wines, and clockwork excuses over time.
His mother would pat her luxury handbag and say, “Oh, I left my wallet at home!”
“I need to take this call,” his father said halfway to the door.
Tyler, Dan’s brother, and Jen, his wife, had mastered the dine-and-dash.
Nobody criticized them. Not pals who had to pay the bill or business associates who muttered about it.
The invitation followed.
“Mom’s planning to celebrate her 60th birthday with a dinner at that fancy Italian restaurant downtown,” Dan said to me. “She informed me yesterday. She wants the complete family.”
“When is it?” Asking made my pocketbook shudder.
Next Friday. They want to invite your mom because we’ll be out of town, which is excellent news, but
I froze. “My mom? Why?”
“She mentioned wanting to get to know her better,” Dan remarked, but I sensed trouble.
Before meeting my mom, my mother-in-law never shown any interest. She had repeatedly said they didn’t have anything in common.
It looked like a setup.
We couldn’t even run interference.
Dan and I booked a weekend in Mexico months in advance to celebrate our anniversary uninterrupted. We had non-refundable tickets on overlapping dates.
“We must warn her,” I murmured, getting my phone.
Mom picked up on the third ring.
“Hi, sweetheart! Are you well?”
“Mom, Dan’s parents want you to attend his mom’s birthday dinner—”
“Yes! Her text arrived one hour ago. I’m excited.”
My stomach knotted with fear. “Mom, I need to tell you something important about Dan’s parents…”
I outlined their pattern, techniques, and how they’d try to bill her. I got stirred up talking about it, my voice raising with each example.
Mom laughed, though. “Oh, honey, don’t worry so much.”
Mom, I’m serious. They always do this. They’ll order the priciest items and leave when the bill arrives.”
She calmly answered, “I’ll be just fine,” which confused me. Your mother-in-law appears thrilled about her birthday. I wouldn’t miss.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll handle it.”
After hanging up, I looked at Dan.
I don’t think she took me seriously… She’s being duped.”
He said, “Maybe they won’t do it this time,” softly. “It’s a birthday celebration, after all.”
I regarded him. We both knew better.
Dan and I stayed three hours away from the meal at our B&B.
As I checked my phone all night, I half-expected a panicked call from my mom. Nothing came.
She texted me the next morning: Had a fantastic evening. Contact me when you get home.
The suspense killed me.
When we returned Sunday, I called her.
“So?” My demand was direct. “What happened?”
Her speech conveyed a smile. “Well, it was quite an interesting night.”
Mom says the evening started predictably.
My in-laws came at the restaurant in full regalia, my mother-in-law with jewelry that could fund a nation.
They were at the greatest table in the house, a nook with a garden and magnificent view.
Honey, they ordered everything. Everything.” My mother was astonished.
“They had unpronounceable appetizers and wine the waiter had to open from a separate case. Your father-in-law got gold-flakes-covered wagyu steak.”
Already cringing, I asked, “And you?”
I ate pasta and water. My hunger was low.”
Smart woman. Reduce damage.
“And then what happened?”
Seeing the bill was like watching a play with everyone knowing their lines. Your mother-in-law realized she left her purse home. Your father-in-law patted his pockets to show he found his wallet in the car.”
“I knew it,” I moan.
Your brother-in-law Tyler said he needed to check on his babysitter, and his wife followed. I was left with a $1500 debt as they went one by one.”
“Mom!” I nearly yelled. “Tell me you didn’t pay that!”
“Of course not,” she responded too nonchalantly. “I called the waiter over and ordered dessert.”
“You what?”
“Chocolate souffle. Glass of their priciest port. The waiter seemed surprised, but I grinned and said I was still celebrating.”
Hearing this was unbelievable.
“But… Mom, I do not understand. What happens if they disappeared again and you didn’t pay the bill?”
“When my dessert arrived, I asked the server to call the management. His name is Robbie. I must have mentioned him.”
“Robbie? From your teaching days?”
The same!” Remember that kind boy who constantly brought me apples? Now he has three eateries.”
My mother taught elementary school for 30 years before retiring. It appeared she trained half the town, including successful restaurant managers.
Mom said, “We had a lovely chat.” We reminisced. He laughed when I said I was waiting for my dinner mates to return with their wallets.”
I grinned. “Oh, I think I see where this is going.”
“Robbie and I cooked up a little plan,” she stated. “He contacted your in-laws and politely told them their group had departed without paying, but they may come back and pay. Or he’d have to call the police about a dine-and-dash.”
Oh, I gasped. “He didn’t.”
Oh, he did. He put it on speakerphone for me. Your father-in-law made reasons for getting ATM cash. Robbie replied, “Well, sir, that’s great news. Expect your return soon.”
“Did they come back?”
“Like their designer pants were on fire,” my mom laughed.
“Your mother-in-law was angrily purple. But what could they say? They’d been busted.”
“And the bill?”
“Robbie charged a 25% ‘inconvenience fee’ for their disappearance. It cost just over $2000.”
I sat astonished before laughing. “Mom, you’re my hero.”
“Best part was this morning,” she said. your mother-in-law called to thank me for coming. She added, “Just so you know, we always pay our own way at family dinners.” Always have.”
“The nerve of them!”
“Honey, some individuals learn by consequence. Perhaps your in-laws learned a costly lesson.”
She was right.
In the months that followed, miracles occurred. At the start of every meal with Dan’s family, my mother-in-law would say, “Everyone, we’re paying separately tonight.”
The waiter nodded, confused by her strong tone, while Dan and I exchanged knowing smiles.
Another tale: Jessica agrees against her better judgment when James asks her to be a surrogate for his brother’s fiancée. As the pregnancy advances, her doubts grow. The fiancée is unreachable, the details are off, and when Jessica meets her, the reality shatters everything.
Inspired by true events and people, this work is fictionalized for creativity. To preserve privacy and enrich the story, names, characters, and facts were changed. Any resemblance to real people, events, or places is unintentional.
The author and publisher neither guarantee event authenticity nor character characterization and are not liable for misinterpretation. While this work is presented “as is,” the characters’ viewpoints do not reflect those of the author or publisher.
