Rebecca arrives at the farm she inherited, ready to sell it and move on. But a stubborn farmhand refuses to let her make an easy sale. He challenges her at every turn, forcing her to confront not just him but the memories and responsibilities she thought she left behind. Their clash will decide the farm’s fate.
Early in the morning, Rebecca got into her car, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. This wasn’t part of her usual routine, but something unexpected had come up, and she had to deal with it.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Leaving her small business in the hands of her assistant, she set off on a long drive, heading out of the busy city.
Rebecca was on her way to her late grandfather’s farm, which he had left to her in his will. She hadn’t been there in years. As a child, she spent summers there, running around and playing, but once she grew older her visits stopped.
Rebecca always assumed her grandfather would pass the farm on to one of his workers, someone who truly needed it. Now, she had no intention of running it herself. Her plan was simple—check things out, find a buyer, and sell it as quickly as possible.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca parked near the farmhouse and stepped out, glancing around. As she turned, she noticed a man on the porch. He stood up quickly, smiling.
“Hey there,” he said. “You must be my new boss. I’m Derek.” He stepped forward, offering his hand.
Rebecca shook it, frowning slightly. Something about him seemed familiar. “Hi, Derek. But you’ve got it wrong. I’m not your boss.”
Derek tilted his head. “Well then, may I at least know the name of my non-boss?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” Rebecca said, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Wait a minute. Are you the same Rebecca who let all the chickens out so the dog could have fun?” He chuckled.
Rebecca’s eyes widened as the memory came back. Derek was the son of one of her grandfather’s workers, and they used to play together when she was little. “And you’re the same Derek who taught me to chase them with a slingshot?”
“Guilty as charged,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. They both laughed, easing the tension.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s expression grew serious. “So, what do you mean you’re not my boss? The farm was left to you, right?”
Rebecca’s smile faded. “Yes, but I don’t plan to keep it. I’m here to sell it.”
“What? Sell it? To who?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said, shrugging. “Whoever wants to buy it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Even if they tear it down?” he asked.
“Well… yes.”
Derek stepped closer, his voice rising. “How could you do that? Your grandfather spent his life on this farm! It was everything to him.”
Rebecca felt a pang of guilt but tried to stand her ground. “He’s gone, Derek. And I have my own life. Being a farmer wasn’t part of my plan.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s eyes searched hers. “What about the animals? The people who work here? You’re just going to let them lose everything?”
She hesitated. “The new owner will handle that.”
Derek’s face darkened. “You don’t care at all, do you?”
“I care. It’s just… not my responsibility anymore,” she said quietly, turning to walk toward the house.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s voice followed her. “You heartless witch!”
Rebecca winced but didn’t turn back. She quickened her pace, heading inside, trying to ignore the doubts his words stirred.
The next morning, Rebecca was startled awake by a knock on her door. She groggily got up and opened it to find a man standing on the porch.
“Good morning, Rebecca,” he said, nodding politely. “I’m Travis. I manage the fields here. Something’s happened, and I think you’ll want to see it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca rubbed her eyes. “Morning. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”
She quickly threw on the first clothes she found, then followed Travis outside. They walked through the farm until they reached one of the main fields. Rebecca’s heart sank when she saw the crops. They looked weak, wilted, and sickly.
“What’s wrong with them?” she asked.
Travis sighed, his expression grim. “Hard to say. Maybe someone spread something to damage them. Could be competitors. But if we don’t act fast, we’ll lose the entire crop.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca’s face tightened. “I don’t care. I’m selling the farm. That’s my plan.”
Travis glanced at her. “You’d get a lot more money if you sold it as a working farm. Not just land.”
Rebecca knew he had a point. She hesitated, then asked, “So, what do you need from me?”
“I need an extra worker. One of our guys is out sick, and we don’t have enough hands,” Travis explained.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Alright,” Rebecca said. “I’ll find someone to help.”
Rebecca spent the entire day making phone calls, trying to find someone to hire. She went through a long list of contacts, but every answer was the same—nobody was available.
By evening, she was exhausted, her energy completely drained. She felt like a squeezed lemon, with nothing left to give.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tired and frustrated, Rebecca found herself wandering toward the stables. She remembered how, as a child, she would sit there for hours, surrounded by the soft sounds of the horses.
It always calmed her. She gently petted their noses, fed them some hay, and felt a wave of comfort wash over her. She sighed, thinking, who would have imagined this farm could bring her so many problems?
“Oh, I didn’t know princesses visited stables,” Derek said, his tone icy as he stepped inside.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca turned, frowning. “What’s with the attitude?”
Derek folded his arms. “How else should I talk to someone who doesn’t care?”
“For your information, I spent all day trying to find a worker for Travis,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but his accusation stung.
Derek’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “So you can sell the farm for a better price. That’s what Travis said.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt building inside her.
“I can help Travis,” Derek said, “but I need support with the livestock. That’s my job.”
“There’s no one available to work,” she said.
Derek stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You could help.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca blinked, surprised. “Me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Or are your hands too soft for real work?”
“I know how to work,” she shot back. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever really known how to do.”
“Good,” Derek said, turning toward the door. “Then it’s settled.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca stood there, still processing, as he walked away, wondering how she’d just agreed to help.
For the next few weeks, Rebecca found herself doing things she never expected. She woke up early each morning, pulling on boots and gloves, ready to work. She helped the workers in the fields, fed the animals, and even joined them in the kitchen, cooking meals after long days.
At first, she thought it would be a struggle, but the workers were patient and kind, teaching her the tasks step by step. They treated her like part of the team, and she started to see how much they cared about the farm.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca began to question if selling the farm was the right decision. Every night, she fell into bed exhausted, but it was a different kind of tiredness. The farm, once just a burden, was slowly becoming a place she was starting to care about.
One evening, as she walked back to the house, she spotted something unusual—small surveillance cameras mounted on poles, pointing straight at the field. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
After asking around, she learned from Sarah, a longtime farm worker, where to access the footage. Sarah brought it to the house, and Rebecca started watching the recordings.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She fast-forwarded until she found what she was looking for—footage of someone sneaking through the field, scattering a strange powder over the crops. The image was blurry at first, but then the figure’s face came into view. Rebecca’s heart dropped. It was Derek.
Furious, she slammed her laptop shut and stormed out of the house. Without thinking, she marched straight toward Derek’s cabin, her mind spinning.
Rebecca stormed up to Derek’s door. When he opened it, she held out her laptop, the screen showing the footage. “Care to explain this?!” she snapped.
Derek sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I was trying to delay the sale,” he said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“So you decided to destroy the farm?!” Rebecca yelled, her voice shaking.
“I didn’t destroy it,” Derek replied. “I slowed things down. It worked. I know you’ve started to care.”
“You can’t just do that, Derek! People had to work harder because of you!” she shouted.
“I thought you didn’t care about the people here,” he said. “I wanted to make you see what this farm means.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca felt a sting in his words, but she refused to back down. “But you messed up! I don’t care! That’s why I’m selling it—to the first buyer who shows up!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed away, leaving Derek standing there.
Two days later, two businessmen arrived at the farm. Rebecca greeted them with a polite smile and led them on a tour, showing them the fields, the barns, and the house. She kept her tone professional, trying to stay detached.
After the tour, Ryan, one of the men, said, “We’re ready to buy it.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rebecca felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “Great! When can we sign the contract?” she asked.
“Right now,” said the other man, Tom. “We brought our lawyer with us.”
Rebecca nodded and led them inside. They sat at the dining table, and the lawyer set the papers down. She picked up the pen, but her hand froze. Something didn’t feel right. “You’re buying the farm to run it, right?” she asked.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Not exactly,” Ryan replied. “We plan to build a factory here. Is that a problem?”
Rebecca’s stomach twisted. She hesitated, but forced a smile. “No, no problem.” Her eyes drifted to the wall. A childhood photo of her and her grandfather hung there—she was feeding a calf, smiling wide. She took a deep breath, pushing the papers closer. Slowly, she prepared to sign.
After fifteen minutes, Rebecca walked Ryan, Tom, and their lawyer out of the house. She spotted Derek sitting under a tree, watching. Tom shook her hand. “Well, good luck,” he said. Ryan did the same, and then they drove off.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek got up and walked over. “Congratulations,” he said flatly. “The farm’s no longer your problem. How much did you sell it for?”
Rebecca looked at him. “I changed my mind.”
“What?” Derek’s eyes widened, confused.
“I’m not selling it,” she repeated.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Derek’s frown melted into a smile. “Really?”
“Don’t get too happy,” she said, trying to stay serious. “I’m a demanding boss. My employees usually avoid me.”
Derek suddenly pulled her into a tight hug, catching her off guard. After a moment, she realized what was happening and hugged him back, feeling something warm and hopeful stir inside her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story
My Parents Made Me Pay for My Dinner While Covering Everyone Else’s – Their Reason Was Ridiculous
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
A woman reading a text on her phone | Source: Midjourney
I love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
A woman smiling at her phone | Source: Midjourney
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
A table in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
A woman enjoying her dinner | Source: Midjourney
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
A mature man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
A decisive woman | Source: Midjourney
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
A mature couple | Source: Pexels
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
A woman having dinner with her parents | Source: Midjourney
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
A mature woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
Plates of dessert | Source: Pexels
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
A woman having dinner with her parents | Source: Midjourney
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
A woman speaking to her parents over dinner | Source: Midjourney
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
A pensive man | Source: Pexels
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
A woman speaking to her parents over dinner | Source: Midjourney
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
A man rubbing his chin | Source: Pexels
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
A woman hugging her parents | Source: Midjourney
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
A hopeful woman | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story: When Carmen’s father-in-law, Jerry, invites her and Leo out to dinner, the couple is excited to spend time with the old man. But Jerry, known for his penny-pinching ways, makes the invitation sound like a rare gesture of generosity. Instead, he hands the bill over to Leo, claiming that he lost his wallet. When the couple realizes the truth, they teach him a lesson.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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