Mom Said ‘Skip Thanksgiving – Your Brother’s Wife Thinks You’re Too Poor’ — Then The News Broke…

“Oh my God, oh my God! This is going to be incredible!”

The calls kept coming. Friends from college, former co-workers, and people I hadn’t spoken to in years reached out.

Everyone had the same reaction: shock, congratulations, and disbelief that I hadn’t said anything. Around 6:30, my phone started getting texts from numbers I didn’t recognize.

There were LinkedIn messages, Facebook messages, and Instagram DMs. The story was spreading.

At 6:45, the family group chat exploded.

Aunt Linda: “Is this real?”

She sent a screenshot of the CNN article.

Aunt Linda: “Sarah, you’re on TV!”

Uncle Rob: “What the hell?”

Cousin Jennifer: “Mom just called me screaming about Sarah being on TV!”

Aunt Linda: “She sold her company for 160 million dollars!”

Uncle Rob: “That can’t be right.”

Aunt Linda: “It’s on CNN! They interviewed her! There’s a whole segment!”

Cousin Jennifer: “I’m pulling it up now… Oh my God! Oh my God! Mom, Dad, Tyler—you guys uninvited her from Thanksgiving!”

The chat went silent for 30 seconds.

Mom: “Sarah?”

Mom: “Sarah, is this real? Why didn’t you tell us?”

Tyler: “This is a joke, right?”

Dad: “Sarah, call me immediately.”

I watched the messages roll in. I didn’t respond.

My phone rang. It was Mom. I declined the call.

It rang again. Tyler. Declined. Dad. Declined.

Tyler again. Declined. Then, a text from Mom.

Mom: “Sarah Elizabeth Mitchell, you call me back right now! We need to talk about this CNN story. This is family business, and you should have told us!”

I muted the group chat. My phone kept ringing.

I turned it on “Do Not Disturb” and poured myself a glass of wine. The next morning, I woke up to 47 missed calls and 32 voicemails.

I listened to them while drinking my coffee. Mom’s first voicemail was from 6:47 p.m.

“Sarah, we just saw you on CNN. What is going on? Call me back immediately. Everyone’s asking questions, and we don’t know what to tell them. This is very embarrassing for us.”

Tyler’s first voicemail was at 6:52 p.m.

“Sarah, what the fuck? You sold a company for… they’re saying 160 million? That’s not real, right? Call me back. Vanessa is losing her mind.”

Dad called at 7:03 p.m.

“Sarah, your mother is very upset. We need to discuss this situation. You’ve made us look foolish. We had no idea you were… whatever you were doing. Call us back.”

Mom again at 7:15 p.m.

“Sarah, people won’t stop calling. Everyone saw the news. Why wouldn’t you tell your own family? Your brother is very hurt. Vanessa is humiliated. How could you let us uninvite you when you knew? Call me back!”

It went on and on. Around 9:00 p.m., the tone shifted.

Mom: “Sweetheart, I’ve been thinking. We were maybe too hasty about Thanksgiving. There was a miscommunication. We really wanted you there. We always want you there. You’re family. Call me back so we can talk about this properly.”

Tyler at 9:17 p.m.

“Hey sis, look, I think there’s been some misunderstandings. Vanessa feels terrible about the Thanksgiving thing. She didn’t mean anything by it. We should all get together and celebrate your success. You deserve it. Call me.”

Dad at 9:34 p.m.

“Sarah, I’m very proud of what you’ve accomplished. Your mother and I always knew you’d do something special. We should sit down as a family and discuss your future plans. There are important financial decisions to make, and family should be involved in these things. Call me.”

The last voicemail was from Vanessa herself at 11:47 p.m.

“Sarah, it’s Vanessa. I just want to say that I’m so impressed by what you’ve achieved. I feel terrible about any miscommunication regarding Thanksgiving. I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe we could have lunch next week? Tyler gave me your number. Call me back.”

I deleted all the voicemails without responding to any of them. They didn’t stop.

Saturday morning, Mom showed up at my old apartment—the studio in the rough neighborhood, the one I hadn’t lived in for six months. She called me from the parking lot.

“Sarah, I’m at your apartment. Let me up.”

“I’m not there, Mom.”

“What do you mean you’re not there? Where are you?”

“I moved six months ago.”

There was silence.

“You moved? Where?”

“Downtown.”

“You didn’t tell us! You didn’t ask! Sarah, what has gotten into you? This attitude is very unlike you. We’re family. We need to talk about this situation face to face.”

“What situation?”

“Your company! The money! The fact that you’ve been lying to us for years!”

“I never lied, Mom. You never asked. You just assumed.”

“Don’t be smart with me, young lady! Where do you live? I’m coming over.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no. I don’t want visitors right now.”

“I’m your mother!”

“Then you should have treated me like your daughter when I actually needed you.”

I hung up. She called back 17 times. I didn’t answer.

Tyler tried a different approach. He sent a long text Saturday afternoon.