It began three weeks ago when Jessica, my brother’s wife, excitedly announced she had found the perfect lake house in Asheville for a “family bonding trip.” She went on and on about how beautiful the place was—six bedrooms, a private dock, hot tub, all the amenities anyone could want. She asked everyone for $500 to pitch in—except herself, of course, because she was the “organizer.” I should’ve known right then something was off.
But Mom, bless her heart, was thrilled. She hadn’t had a real vacation in years and was glowing with anticipation. She talked about spending time with her grandchildren, enjoying nature, and simply relaxing. After everything she sacrificed raising Peter and me alone—working endless shifts, studying at night to become a nurse—she deserved this getaway more than anyone.
