It all began simply enough. My husband, Jace, and I decided to take our twin girls, Lila and Nia, to visit his parents for the weekend.
Jace’s parents, Hank and Maeve, lived not too far away, but they were surrounded by rolling hills and wide fields.
“The girls should enjoy it,” Jace said. “They’ll love the flower bushes and everything. And also, they haven’t spent much time with my parents, so this will be good.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I suppose so. And it’ll be nice for us to get out for a bit.”
“Actually,” Jace said, “it’s the summer holidays. Why don’t we pack a bag for the twins and let them stay a few days? My mom mentioned it a few weeks ago.”
That made me nervous. The twins hadn’t been around Jace’s parents much, and I was always worried they’d tell the twins the truth.
Jace and I adopted Lila and Nia as babies, and we’ve always treated them like our own. That’s because they were just that. But we hadn’t told them about their adoption yet.
“We’ll wait till they’re older,” I told Jace. “Like, let’s wait till they’re 16 at least.”
“I agree, love,” he said. “We can’t upset everything they know now. Anyway, seven is too young to understand it all.”
But Hank and Maeve had always been a bit odd about it. They said they loved my kids like the other grandkids, but I knew they treated them differently.
They had a custom of inviting their grandkids for summer visits, and if the twins stayed, this would be their first time.
“Okay,” I said finally. “We can pack their stuff, and if they want to stay, then fine.”
Though I said that to my husband, I was still uneasy about leaving my kids with Maeve. Over the years, she’d buy the twins cheap, thoughtless gifts while spending lots on the other grandkids.
And when they were babies, she’d avoid holding them and often seemed to forget they existed unless reminded.
“Oh, sorry, Cora,” Maeve said. “I’m just about to go to the kitchen and fix some food; I’ll hold the kids later.”
Still, Jace was excited about the visit, saying it was an important family custom and that once the kids were there, we could have some alone time.
“It’s too late to book a place for us, Cora,” he said, “but we could stay home and relax. It’ll be great for us. We hardly get time to be alone and close.”
So, with a mix of worry and hope, I agreed.
When we got there, Maeve greeted us with her usual warm smile.
“It’s so great to see you all!” she exclaimed, but I noticed she didn’t look much at the girls.
“Oh boy,” I muttered quietly.
This was just the start.
“So!” Maeve said, “You girls will sleep in the shed out back. It’ll be a little adventure! Don’t worry, we’ve set it up nicely with beds and everything.”
Right away, I hesitated again. A shed? It seemed old and unfit for kids.
“I’m sure it’s okay, Cora,” Jace said. “My mom wouldn’t put our kids in a bad place. They probably fixed it up nicely for the grandkids.”
But why didn’t we check it before leaving? That’s something I’ll always ask myself.
“Come on, love,” Jace said while the girls ran around with Sable, the dog. “They’re settled, and they’re fine. Mom’s making a chicken pot pie for supper. They’ll be okay. And Dad said Cade is coming with the other kids.”
So, we left and went out for supper together.
“Date nights matter, Cora,” Jace said as we sat at the table.
We only had a few hours to ourselves before Jace had to get back to work. His hours were crazy since he worked for an overseas company.
Later that evening, I called the girls to check if they were okay. Their voices, usually full of life, sounded quiet.
“Mom, we’re scared,” Lila whispered. “There are strange noises here, and we think we saw rats.”
“And the hay is sharp, poking our skin when we try to sleep,” Nia added.
Hay?
“What hay? Where are the other kids?” I asked.
“They’re inside,” Nia said. “Gran said they can sleep upstairs in beds. Why can’t we? It’s cold out here.”
I was furious. How could they treat my girls like this while the other kids stayed cozy inside?
With Jace at work, I had to get to the girls myself.
I grabbed my keys and drove to my in-laws’ house, hands shaking with anger.
When Maeve opened the door, she had a smug look, like she expected me.
“Why are my kids sleeping in a shed with hay? I thought you fixed it up for kids?” I shouted. “And why are the other kids inside the house?”
Maeve didn’t even blink.
“It’s just part of our custom,” she said calmly. “We teach kids the value of hard work and humility. The shed’s the first step.”
“Hard work and humility?” I repeated. “They’re seven, not farm workers. And why only my kids? Why aren’t the others out there?”
Maeve’s gaze turned cold.
“Cora, these kids need to learn their place. They’re not as important as the others. They’re adopted. They’re not real family.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach.
“This is wrong,” I said, my whole body shaking with emotion. “They’re kids and deserve the same treatment as the other grandkids.”
Maeve just shrugged.
“If you don’t like it, take them home. But don’t expect them to join family customs later.”
“That’s the last thing I want,” I said. “I don’t want my kids near you, Maeve.”
Fuming, I stormed past her to the shed. My heart broke seeing Lila and Nia huddled on makeshift beds, eyes wide with fear.
I scooped them up and marched back to the house.
“We’re leaving,” I declared, glaring at Maeve. “Don’t expect to see us again unless you treat all your grandkids with equal love and respect.”
As I drove away, my girls safe in the backseat, anger and relief washed over me.
At home, I tucked the girls into bed and kissed them before they slept. I knew we’d have a bigger talk in the morning.
When Jace got home, I told him what happened.
“You’re kidding,” he said, furious. “My mother did this?!”
I nodded.
“Our daughters won’t be treated like this,” he said firmly. “We’ll handle it together. Let the girls sleep.”
The next morning, my mom came to babysit the girls.
“We’ll play with the dollhouse till you’re back,” she said.
Then, we returned to confront his parents. And, my goodness, my husband didn’t hold back.
“Mom, what you did is unforgivable. You treated my daughters like they were less than human because they’re adopted. Until you show equal love and respect for all your grandkids, you won’t see us.”
The confrontation was intense. Maeve tried to defend herself, but Jace stood firm. Finally, she broke down.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
But I didn’t care.
Our decision spread through the family. Cade, Jace’s brother, also refused to bring his kids to their parents.
And guess what? Karma stepped in. A month later, it was Maeve’s 70th birthday, meant to be a big event. We were all supposed to celebrate the matriarch.
But no one showed up. Hank called Jace, saying Maeve spent the day crying, regretting everything.
“Too bad, Dad,” Jace said. “I’m focusing on my kids. My family matters more.”
