Chapter 4 - The Reality Check at the Family Homestead
By Wednesday, the fallout from the disastrous retirement party had reached epic proportions.
According to my cousin Sarah—who had secretly called me to get the full story—my parents' house had descended into absolute chaos. With me gone, the harsh, inescapable reality of Derek’s absolute uselessness crashed over Mom and Dad like a tidal wave.
On Monday morning, Derek had slept in until noon as usual. When he came downstairs expecting Mom to have coffee brewed and breakfast waiting, he found an empty kitchen and a furious mother who had already left for work early to avoid him.
Dad, whose retirement had officially begun, discovered that his favorite work shirts weren't washed, the trash cans were overflowing onto the driveway because nobody put them out for Tuesday morning pickup, and the refrigerator was completely barren because I wasn't there to replenish the groceries every few days.
When Dad asked Derek to take out the trash, Derek reportedly threw a temper tantrum, claiming he was “mentally exhausted from his job search” and stormed back upstairs to his room.
That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Dad, running on zero sleep, high blood pressure from the botched party, and pure resentment, marched up to Derek’s bedroom, kicked the door open, and told him that if he couldn't lift a finger to help around the house, he needed to pack his bags by the end of the week.
Derek, in turn, screamed that Dad was a tyrant, packed his own suitcase, and drove off to stay with an old college buddy across town—leaving my parents completely alone in a dirty, unmanaged house with nobody to blame but themselves.
Mom called me on Wednesday evening while I was eating a quiet dinner at Marcus’s kitchen table. I almost didn't answer, but curiosity finally won out.
“Ethan?” Her voice sounded small, raspy, and thoroughly defeated.
“Mom,” I said neutrally.
“Derek moved out,” she whispered, sounding like she might start crying right then and there. “He got into a huge fight with your father. The house is... Ethan, the house is a wreck. We didn't realize... we honestly didn't realize how much you actually did for us every single day.”
I took a slow sip of water. I didn't gloat, but I didn't rush to comfort her either.
“You called me ungrateful, Mom,” I reminded her softly. “For asking my thirty-two-year-old brother to move a couple of folding tables.”
“I know,” she choked out. “It was the worst mistake of my life. Your father and I... we were wrong. We took you for granted because you were always so dependable. Please... is there any way you would consider coming back home? We’ll make Derek pay rent if he ever comes back. We’ll change everything.”
May you like
I looked around Marcus’s clean, peaceful kitchen, thinking of my new savings account and the peace of mind I had fought so hard to reclaim.
“No, Mom,” I said, my voice steady and kind. “I’m not coming back. I love you, but I finally have my own life back. You guys are going to have to learn how to run your own house.”
