My Family Excluded Me From Dad’s Retirement Party. “we Don’t Want You Showing Up With Grease Under..

I finally checked my phone and found the notification apocalypse waiting for me. There were 23 missed calls and 51 text messages.

There were three voicemails that I could tell from the preview weren’t going to be pleasant listening experiences. The texts told the story through increasingly angry messages from my mother.

“Sean, where are you? Call me immediately.”

Then,

“This is an emergency. Why aren’t you answering?”

Then,

“Your father’s party is ruined. There’s sewage everywhere and you can’t be bothered to pick up the phone.”

Several hours later, she wrote,

“Your friend posted that you’re in Costa Rica. You’re on vacation while we’re dealing with this.”

And finally, at 2:00 in the morning,

“I can’t believe I raised someone so selfish.”

From my father:

“Son, please call home.”

It was simple, short, and disappointed. That one hit different than my mother’s unhinged messages; it always did.

From Colin:

“Are you kidding me right now? You’re in Costa Rica while Mom and Dad’s house is flooding. What is wrong with you?”

From Haley came a five-paragraph essay about how selfish I was and how I’d abandoned the family during their worst crisis. She said Dad’s retirement was completely ruined because I couldn’t be bothered to answer my phone.

She concluded by saying she was genuinely worried about my mental state and maybe I should talk to someone. I showed Zach the messages over breakfast.

He read through them slowly and took a long sip of coffee. He goes,

“So, I guess they found out what a plumber costs.”

We spent the next six days living our best lives. We went snorkeling in crystal clear water and ate fresh seafood at beachside restaurants.,

There were sunsets every evening that looked like someone had cranked up the color saturation on the sky. I kept my phone on Do Not Disturb the entire time.

The notifications piled up, dozens of them judging by the badge on the home screen. I didn’t read any of them.

Whatever fire was burning back home, I wasn’t going to be the one to put it out. The flight home landed Sunday evening.

After eight days of sun and relaxation, I genuinely felt like a different person. I was clear-headed in a way I hadn’t been in a long time.

That lasted about 45 minutes. I pulled into my apartment complex around 9:00 and found a welcoming committee in the parking lot.

All five of them were there: Mom, Dad, Haley, Colin, and Colin’s wife, Kelsey. They were arranged around their cars like they’d been running surveillance for hours.

Knowing my family, they probably had been. My mother spotted my truck first and started speed-walking toward me before I even got the door open.

Her face was a mix of fury and relief that would have been almost funny if I’d been in a laughing mood. She asked where I had been and why I didn’t answer.,

She asked if I had any idea what I’d put them through. I grabbed my duffel bag and walked past her toward my building without a word, tan, relaxed, and completely unbothered.

My father cut me off at the entrance. His voice had that disappointed tone.

He said we needed to talk about what happened, about the party, and about me posting vacation photos while they dealt with the disaster. He said he didn’t raise me to be this selfish.

I stopped and turned to face all of them. I asked what disaster he meant.

He listed the plumbing emergency, the ruined party, the thousands in damage, and the fact that I’d ignored their calls for eight days. I nodded.

Then I told him the Costa Rica trip was supposed to be his retirement gift. I was going to surprise him at the party and hand him the tickets in front of everyone for a father-son trip.

Nobody said anything. My mother’s mouth opened, then closed.

Colin actually took a step backward. Even Kelsey, who never showed emotion about anything, looked uncomfortable.

I said,

“But I wasn’t invited, so I took Zach instead.”

The silence lasted long enough to hear traffic on the street behind us. My mother started sputtering about the seating chart and the catering numbers.

She said they didn’t think I’d mind. I held up my hand.

I told them for 11 years, I’ve fixed your plumbing for free. Every leak, every clog, and every broken fixture.

Four days before this party, I was in your bathroom replacing parts I paid for. And then I found out I wasn’t invited.

Colin stepped forward, puffing his chest. That stopped working when we were teenagers.

He said none of that was an excuse for ignoring the phone calls when they needed me. I asked when the last time was that any of them called me for something other than free labor.

There was no answer. I laid it out for them.

From now on, they could call my business line during normal hours. I’d schedule them like any customer and charge them like any customer.

The emergency rate was 250 just to show up. Weekends were time and a half.

My mother looked like I’d slapped her. She asked if I was really going to charge my own family.,

I said I was done being their unpaid employee. I walked to my apartment door, unlocked it, and turned back.

I told them they could stay in the parking lot as long as they wanted, but if anyone knocked on my door, I’d call the police. Then I went inside, threw the deadbolt, and exhaled.

Through the window, I watched them argue with each other for another 30 minutes before finally leaving. I took a long shower and went to bed.

I figured that would be the end of it. They’d be angry for a while, we’d avoid each other during holidays, and eventually, things would settle into some kind of distant truce.

That’s how these things usually work, right? I was wrong.

What happened next came in stages. Each stage was worse than the last.

Each stage made it clearer they weren’t going to stop until I either caved or made them stop. It started with the phone calls and the lies.

My business partner, Spencer, had handled things well while I was gone. Spencer’s been with me for six years, starting as an apprentice and working his way up to co-running the operation.,

He is a good plumber and a better person. He told me my mother had called the business line nine times while I was in Costa Rica.

Every single time, she demanded he personally go to their house and fix the problem as a family favor. She said he worked for her son, so he should help the family.

Spencer politely explained that the family favor rate was the same as the regular rate and quoted her the numbers. She hung up every single time.

Spencer said by call seven, he was timing how fast she slammed the phone. The record was three seconds.

Tony ended up doing the mainline repair. He charged them 3,200 total when you added up the emergency visit, the follow-up hydrojetting, and the parts.

It was reasonable for the scope of work. My mother told everyone who would listen that Tony had ripped them off.

She said her own son would have done it for free if he wasn’t being vindictive. She claimed Tony had probably conspired with me to overcharge them as some kind of coordinated revenge scheme.

Word travels fast in the trades community. We all know each other and refer jobs back and forth.

Tony told me about my mother’s accusations over lunch at a place we both liked near the supply house. He was mostly laughing, but there was an edge to his voice.