My grandma, the heart of our family, always makes everyone feel loved—never missing a birthday and always having fresh cookies ready. So when she said she just wanted a simple dinner out for her 85th, I was all in.
But the rest of the family had other plans. Aunt Linda insisted on something extravagant, and they booked the fanciest steakhouse in town. At first, it seemed thoughtful—until I overheard my cousins scheming to stick me with the bill. “Jade’s got money,” they whispered. “She’ll cover it.”
Sure enough, they treated the night like a party—ordering expensive wine, snapping selfies, and piling on appetizers. Grandma was glowing, thinking it was all for her.
When the $800 bill came, the excuses started. Everyone suddenly “forgot” their wallets or had a sob story. I didn’t argue—I quietly went to the manager, who happened to be my college friend. I paid for Grandma and me, gave him everyone’s info, and left.
The rest of the family? They tried to sneak out and leave Grandma behind. She looked so confused when I returned. I reassured her everything was fine and made sure she enjoyed dessert and the staff’s birthday song.
The next day, my phone blew up. The restaurant was calling them for payment—and they were furious. But I felt no guilt. They played themselves.
Next year, it’s just me and Grandma. No drama. Just peace.
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