At the bank, ready to wire $20,000 for his honeymoon, i got a text from my son: “you’re banned from my wedding. my fiancée hates you!” i answered, “fine,” and canceled it all.
Chicago was gripped by a cold wind from Lake Michigan, but inside me, Margaret Vance, it felt strangely warm. I sat in a comfortable leather chair at the Chase Bank branch on Michigan Avenue, sipping the hot coffee the teller had just offered me.
It was Thursday. Only two days until my son Liam’s wedding.
Liam was everything I had after my husband died of cancer ten years ago. I had single-handedly built a catering business from scratch to raise him, send him to private school, and now, give him his dream wedding.
“Mrs. Vance,” the bank teller, David, smiled, pushing a piece of paper toward me. “The $20,000 transfer for ‘Heavenly Travel Service’ is ready. This is the most wonderful honeymoon gift I’ve ever seen. Bora Bora, right?”
“Yes,” I smiled, signing the receipt. “She’s always dreamed of going there. I want her and Jessica to have a perfect start.”
Jessica, my future daughter-in-law. A beautiful, stylish girl who works in marketing. She wasn’t particularly close to me, always distant and somewhat aloof, but I told myself that was the modern style. I’d done everything I could to please her: I paid for the entire wedding, from the Vera Wang wedding dress to the dinner at The Peninsula Hotel. Almost $150,000 in total.
This $20,000 was the final gift. A surprise.
“Just confirm the OTP code on your phone and you’re done,” David said.
My phone vibrated. I picked it up, expecting a message from the bank.
But no. It was a message from Liam.
I opened it. And the world around me collapsed.
A short, cruel message appeared on my iPhone screen:
“Mom, I’m sorry. But Jessica said she’s uncomfortable if you’re here. You’re banned from my wedding. My fiancée hates you! We’ll send pictures later. Don’t come, the security won’t let you in.”
I read it over and over. Each word was like a knife stabbing into my heart.
Broken.
Hates me.
The security will block the door.
I looked at the $20,000 check on the table. I remembered the $150,000 I’d spent over the past six months. I remembered the sleepless nights I’d worked so Liam could drive his BMW to college.
My hands trembled. David looked at me anxiously: “Mrs. Vance? Are you okay? Is there a problem with the verification code?”
I took a deep breath. The overwhelming grief suddenly transformed into something else. Colder. Harder. It was a wake-up call.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t call back to beg or question. I typed a reply to Liam, just two words:
“Okay.”
I pressed send.
Then, I looked up at David, my face returning to the calm demeanor of a businesswoman who had been navigating the business world for 30 years.
“David,” I said, my voice sharp. “Cancel this transaction.”
“Huh? But…”
“Cancel it immediately. And David, I want you to help me perform a series of urgent ‘Chargeback’ operations.”
I walked out of the bank, the cold wind hitting my face, but I no longer felt cold. I got into the car, opened the wedding planner notebook I always carried with me.
I started making calls.
First call: The Peninsula Hotel (Wedding venue).
“Hello Sarah, this is Margaret Vance. Yes, the one who signed the wedding contract for Liam and Jessica this Saturday. I want to cancel the contract.”
“But Ms. Vance, canceling at this last minute will cost you 50% of your deposit and you’ll have to pay compensation…”
“I don’t care about the deposit. I want to cancel the party. Immediately. And I want the hotel to inform the bride and groom that the venue is no longer available due to ‘payment issues from the guarantor’. Understand?”
Second call: Floral designer.
“Cancel all 5,000 imported roses. You can sell them cheaply or donate them to charity. I didn’t pay for those flowers to decorate a party where I’m barred.”
Third call: Symphony Orchestra.
“You’re off work early this weekend. I’ll pay the cancellation fee, but don’t come.”
Within 45 minutes, I had dismantled the entire lavish wedding I had meticulously planned. The wedding dress, the photographer, the limousine… everything was canceled or frozen. Because all the contracts were in my name – Margaret Vance. I was the one signing the checks (The Payee), and legally, I had the right to stop the service.
I drove home, poured myself a glass of red wine, and waited.
6 PM.
My phone started ringing.
Liam.
Jessica.
Jessica’s mother (who hadn’t contributed a single penny to the wedding).
I let it ring. I watched the screen light up continuously like a light show in the dark night.
7 PM.
I received a voicemail from Liam. I put it on speakerphone.
“Mom! What the hell are you doing? The hotel just called to cancel the reception! Hoa isn’t coming either! Are you crazy? The wedding is tomorrow! Do you want to humiliate us?”
I took a sip of wine, smiling bitterly. Humiliate? You forbade me from attending my son’s wedding, and…
Now you’re afraid of being embarrassed because you didn’t get free lobster and champagne?
I didn’t answer.
Friday morning. The day before the “wedding.”
My apartment doorbell rang incessantly. I glanced at the camera. Liam and Jessica were standing there. Liam looked panicked, his hair disheveled. Jessica was crying – or pretending to cry – her eyes swollen.
I opened the door.
“Mom!” Liam burst in. “Why did you do that? You canceled everything! Jessica is devastated! What are we going to do with 200 guests?”
“I thought I was forbidden?” I calmly sat down on the sofa. “If I wasn’t allowed to attend, why did I pay for the party?”
“It was your gift!” Liam yelled. “You promised! How can you be so petty just because of a text message?”
“Petty?” I stood up, looking straight into my son’s eyes. “Liam, listen carefully. I’m not an ATM. I’m your mother. If your wife hates me so much she doesn’t want to see me on the most important day of her life, then she shouldn’t see my money either.”
Jessica stepped forward, sobbing, “Aunt Margaret… I’m sorry if I upset you. But you’re always controlling everything… I just want our wedding to be just for us…”
“Just for you two?” I laughed. “Then pay for it yourselves.”
“But we don’t have the money right now!” Jessica blurted out.
And at that very moment, a truth flashed through my mind. A gut feeling told me something was wrong.
I’m a businessman. I’m sensitive to numbers.
“Wait,” I narrowed my eyes at Jessica. “You just said you had no money? Liam is a software engineer, earning $150,000 a year. You’re a marketing manager. You two live in an apartment I paid 50% of the deposit for. Where did your money go?”
Jessica’s face turned pale. She took a step back, hiding behind Liam.
“Don’t ask about money anymore,” Liam snapped, but his eyes avoided hers. “That’s not important. What’s important is that you call the hotel now. Fix this mistake!”
“No,” I said. “I won’t call anyone until I understand what’s going on.”
I went to my desk and took out a yellow envelope that my private investigator had sent this morning. Yes, I hired a detective right after receiving the message yesterday. I wanted to know why my daughter-in-law suddenly “hated” me so much.
I tossed the envelope down on the desk. The photos spilled out.
Not photos of an affair.
But photos of Jessica at the Rivers Casino.
And bank statements.
“What is this?” Liam picked them up, his hands trembling.
“That’s why your fiancée hates me, Liam,” I said, my voice cold. “She doesn’t hate me for my personality. She hates me because I’m the only one who can control her finances and uncover her secret.”
I pointed to the numbers highlighted in red.
“Jessica is a gambling addict, Liam. She’s squandered all your savings. And worse…”
I flipped to the last page.
“…She mortgaged your apartment to take out a high-interest loan. The repayment deadline is next week. That’s why she needs this wedding to happen. She needs the wedding money from 200 guests to pay off her debt to the mafia.”
Liam was speechless. He turned to look at Jessica. “Jess? Is Mom serious? The apartment… our savings…”
Jessica stopped crying instantly. Her innocent, pitiful expression vanished. Instead, she wore the brazen face of a gambler cornered.
“So what?” Jessica hissed. “If this old woman hadn’t canceled the wedding, I could have paid off the debt! It’s all her fault! She’s always meddling in other people’s affairs!”
She turned to Liam, yelling, “You’re a weakling! You let your mother control your life! If you don’t make her pay, the creditors will come and break my legs!”
Liam recoiled, looking at the woman he was about to marry as if she were a monster.
“I… I forbade your mother from coming to the wedding not because I wanted privacy,” Liam whispered, his voice breaking. “But because I was afraid she’d talk to her banking friends… I was afraid she’d find out I was in debt.”
“That’s right!” Jessica yelled. “She’s too smart! She could tell at a glance that the Vera Wang wedding dress I was wearing was a first-rate fake, and I’d already gambled away the money I’d spent on the real dress! I need her out of my sight so I can finish this charade!”
The living room fell silent.
I watched my son crumble. But sometimes, crumbling is necessary to rebuild from scratch.
“Get out of my house,” I said to Jessica.
“I’m not going anywhere! Liam, you have to help me!” Jessica clung to Liam’s hand.
Liam pushed her hand away. He took off his engagement ring and placed it on the table.
“Get out, Jessica,” Liam said, tears streaming down his face. “The wedding is canceled. And so are our lives.”
Jessica cursed, grabbed her bag, and stormed out the door. She knew there was nothing more to exploit here.
Liam slumped onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands and sobbing uncontrollably.
I went over and placed my hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Liam cried. “I believed her… I sent that message to you… I’m a terrible person…”
“You were manipulated, Liam,” I said gently.
“But I’m still lucky.”
“Lucky? I’ve lost everything, Mom. The apartment, the money, the love…”
“No,” I smiled, pulling another piece of paper from the drawer.
This was an unexpected twist, not even Jessica’s.
“Do you remember the apartment you two are living in?” I asked.
“Yes, Jessica mortgaged it…”
“Jessica thinks she mortgaged it,” I corrected. “But you forgot that when we bought the house, I asked you to sign a trust agreement with the Vance Family Trust?”
Liam stared at me blankly.
“That apartment is in the Trust’s name, of which I am the president. The papers Jessica used to mortgage it… are fake, either she secretly made them, or the loan sharks tricked her. Legally, she has no right to mortgage that house. Banks or gangsters can’t take your house.”
Liam’s eyes widened.
“So…”
“So you still have a home,” I assured him. “And about the wedding money… I canceled in time to get about 70% back. I’ll use that to pay off the credit card debt you stupidly put your name on with her.”
I handed Liam the $20,000 check I hadn’t canceled yet – the honeymoon check.
“And this,” I pushed it toward him. “Not for the honeymoon. Use it to hire a good lawyer and a therapist. You need healing, son.”
Liam hugged me, crying like a three-year-old.
“Thank you, Mom… You saved me.”
I patted his back.
“I might be banned from the wedding,” I whispered. “But no one can stop me from protecting my son.”
A week later.
Jessica was arrested for financial fraud and forgery while trying to escape her creditors.
Liam moved in with me for a while. We cooked together, watched movies together, and mended our broken relationship.
On what was supposed to be our wedding day, Liam and I sat by Lake Michigan.
“Mom,” Liam said. “I texted Jessica back that day.”
“What did you text?”
“I texted her old number: ‘My mom isn’t coming, and neither am I. Have fun with your cards.'”
I smiled, looking out at the deep blue lake. Sometimes, canceling a deal is the best deal of your life.
