My husband’s stepmother, Lilian, is the epitome of elegance and wealth. She loves inviting us to expensive restaurants, flaunting her taste for luxury. The problem? She never pays. Every single time, she conveniently “forgets” her wallet, leaving us to foot the bill.
After countless dinners where we were left scrambling to cover the tab, I decided enough was enough. When Lilian invited us out again, I hatched a plan.
As we were preparing to leave for the restaurant, I noticed her “forget” her wallet, as usual, leaving it conspicuously on the kitchen counter. Quietly, I slipped it into my purse.
The dinner went smoothly, and Lilian was her usual charming self, ordering the finest dishes and sipping on expensive wine. But when the bill arrived, she sighed dramatically. “Oh no! You won’t believe this, but I forgot my wallet again! What a pity!”
The old, familiar script.
Feigning surprise, I reached into my purse and pulled out her wallet, placing it on the table with a triumphant smile. “This wallet?” I asked sweetly.
Her eyes widened, and the table fell silent. After a moment, she chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, how clever of you, dear! Well, let’s split the bill then, shall we?”
We paid our share, and as we left the restaurant, I felt a sense of victory. My husband and I exchanged knowing smiles, certain we had finally outmaneuvered her.
But our triumph was short-lived.
As we stepped outside, Lilian turned to me with a sly grin. “You know, darling, I just remembered. I donated most of the cash in that wallet earlier today. There’s not much left.”
My heart sank. I quickly opened the wallet and found a single $5 bill inside. The rest of the payment had gone on our card, and splitting the bill had meant Lilian contributed nearly nothing.
She patted my arm lightly. “But I do admire your resourcefulness. Let me know when you’d like to dine out again!”
I stared at her, speechless. My husband muttered under his breath, “She’s good. Too good.”
—
The next time Lilian invited us out, I came prepared. This time, I informed her ahead of time that we’d love to join but were keeping things casual. I chose a small, family-owned restaurant with reasonable prices, where the bill wouldn’t sting as much if she pulled her usual antics.
To my surprise, she didn’t “forget” her wallet that evening, nor did she argue when we insisted on splitting the bill evenly. I think the whole wallet stunt had at least rattled her a bit, though she never admitted it.
In the end, I realized something: you can’t always outsmart someone who’s been playing the game longer than you have. But you can set boundaries—and that’s how I finally got Lilian to stop taking advantage of us. Sometimes, small wins are enough.
