“I Didn’t Invite You,” My Daughter-in-Law Said Calmly – In the House I Built and At the Table I Paid For.

The Slow Erasure of a Lifetime

Chloe arrived 2 days later with three suitcases. Dan brought four boxes.

They told me it would only be for 3 months, six at the most. I gave them my bedroom, the biggest one, the one with the private bathroom.

I moved into the small room, the one I used to use for storage. It’s temporary, I told myself as I arranged my things in the new space.

It’s just a few months, but the months passed and they were still there. At first Chloe was kind.

She helped with the dishes. She asked if I needed anything from the store.

She even cooked every once in a while. But little by little, things started to change.

First it was small, subtle comments.

“Eleanor, do you always leave the pots there? They’re just kind of in the way.”

“Don’t you think it would be better if we put the table on the other side? It would look more modern.”

“Oh, that tablecloth is so old, isn’t it? I have a new one I brought. We could use that.”

I nodded. I moved the pots.

I changed the table’s position. I put away my tablecloth.

Then came the bigger changes. One day I came home from grocery shopping and found that Khloe had rearranged all the furniture in the living room.

The wooden rocking chair that Robert had given me when Dan was born was gone.

“Where’s my rocking chair?”

I asked.

“Oh, that old thing,”

Chloe said without looking up from her phone.

“I put it in the garage. It didn’t match anything. I bought a new sofa. Much nicer, you’ll see.”

I felt a knot in my throat but I said nothing. Robert’s rocking chair ended up covered in dust in the garage.

Next was the kitchen. Khloe said it needed an update, that the tiles were ugly, that the sink was too scratched.

Dan hired a contractor. They changed everything.

They put in gray subway tiles, a stainless steel sink, and white cabinets. I didn’t recognize my own kitchen.

“It looks amazing, right?”

Chloe said to me.

“Now it actually makes you want to cook in here.”

But she never cooked. I was still the one who made breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The one who washed the dishes, the one who cleaned. The months turned into a year and they still weren’t looking for an apartment.

One day I dared to ask.

“Dan, have you seen any places?”

My son looked at me uncomfortable.

“Mom, it’s tough out there. Prices keep going up. Besides, Chloe says we’re fine here. Why waste money on rent when we can save?”

Save. That was the word they used.

But I didn’t see them saving anything. Chloe bought new clothes every week.

Dan traded in his car. They went out to dinner on weekends.

Meanwhile I kept working. I washed their clothes.

I cooked for them. I cleaned up their messes.

And little by little, I became invisible in my own house. They no longer asked me if I wanted to watch a certain show on television; they just put it on.

They no longer told me if they were going to be late; they just didn’t show up. They no longer included me in their plans.

I was the one who opened the door when they arrived. The one who heated up their food.

The one who stayed up waiting, but nobody saw me. One day Chloe invited her friends over.

They were four women I didn’t know. They arrived laughing with bottles of wine and with loud music.

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner when one of them walked in.

“Are you Dan’s mom?”

She asked me.

“Yes,”

I replied.

“Oh, that’s great that Khloe has you here to help her with the house,”

she said.

“She’s so lucky.”

I stayed quiet, watching her get water from the refrigerator and go back into the living room. Me helping her.

This was my house. My house.

But nobody remembered that anymore. I couldn’t sleep that night.

I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the laughter coming from the living room. From my living room.

Laughter from women I didn’t know, drinking wine from glasses I had washed that morning, sitting on furniture I hadn’t chosen. I got up at 3:00 in the morning and I went to the kitchen.

The empty bottles were on the table. Dirty plates were piled in the sink.

Bread crumbs were all over the floor. There were wine stains on the new tablecloth Kloe had bought.

I started cleaning in silence, in the dark, like always. When I finished, it was already 5.

I made myself a coffee and sat by the window. Outside, the sun was starting to rise.

The first light of day filtered through the curtains Khloe had changed last month. Gray curtains that made everything look darker.

I drank my coffee slowly, looking at the garden I had planted myself. The roses that grew by the fence and the lemon tree I had planted when Dan was little.

Those trees knew me. Those flowers knew who had cared for them all these years.

But inside the house, I was a stranger. Chloe woke up around noon.

She came into the kitchen in her pajamas, her hair a mess, yawning.

“Did you make coffee?”

she asked me.

“Yes, it’s in the pot.”

She poured herself a cup, sat at the table, and checked her phone.

“Did you clean up everything from last night?”

she asked without looking up.

“Yes.”

“Great. My friends left a horrible mess.”

She took a sip of coffee.

“Hey, Eleanor, I’m going out today with some colleagues from work. We’re going shopping. I’ll be back tonight. Leave some dinner for Dan. Okay? Don’t let him go hungry.”

She didn’t ask if I had plans. She didn’t ask if I needed anything.

She just gave me orders in my own house.

“Okay,”

I said.

Kloe finished her coffee, got up, and left. She didn’t even put the cup in the sink.

She left it there on the table with the coffee ring staining the wood. I washed the cup, like always.