My Sil Sank $3m Cruiser, Assuming It Was Mine! She Laughed At It, But Unfortunately, It Was…

The Confusing Call

I’m Lynn. Recently I got married to my husband Scott, and now I have a sister-in-law named Abigail. But I just got this weird call from her.

“Lynn, you listening?”

“I am, but I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Okay, I’ll say it again. Your Cruiser—I crashed it into an iceberg.”

“Yeah, still doesn’t make sense.”

Needless to say, there’s a lot to unpack here. First off, I don’t own a cruiser. And what’s this about an iceberg? You wouldn’t see icebergs unless you’re near the Arctic or Antarctic. We’re in Los Angeles, so I doubt there’s an iceberg nearby.

But knowing Abigail, she probably doesn’t realize that. She’s a bit different in many ways. She’s either confused about something or trying to tease me—one of the two.

Thinking this, I asked Abigail again. “Did you really crash into an iceberg?”

“Yeah, I intentionally hit the iceberg and sank it,” Abigail answered, laughing.

Annoyed by her tone, I asked her a bit more sternly, “Can you explain a bit more?”

“Lynn, you’re so silly. Fine, I’ll explain.”

Abigail started her explanation, still laughing.

Meeting the In-Laws

Her story began when I visited Scott’s family home. The reason for going to Scott’s place was simple: we had a family meeting. Naturally, Abigail was there too.

As soon as she saw me, she said, “Wow, you look kind of Japanese.”

“My grandma is Japanese and my grandpa is American. Their daughter, my mom, married an American, my dad, and they had me and my brother.”

Later, when I was in upper elementary school, we moved to Birmingham, Alabama, due to my father’s job. My appearance is a bit different from typical Americans—more East Asian, like Japanese. I’ve been teased about it a few times, so I was a bit on guard, thinking Abigail might do the same.

But Abigail just said, “Really? That’s so cool. You’re really cute.”

She complimented me like that. In a moment, I felt relieved. What if they hadn’t accepted me? That’s what I had been worrying about.

“Thank you. Looking forward to getting along.”

“Sure thing.”

That’s how I talked with Abigail. Then Victoria, my soon-to-be mother-in-law, joined the conversation.

“Lynn, you lived in Los Angeles, right? Do you still have a house there?”

“The house we lived in is occupied by someone else now, but we do have relatives’ homes there.”

“Oh, I see. But as long as you have relatives’ homes there, no need to worry.”

Victoria seemed oddly pleased. Then Abigail chimed in.

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

I had a bad feeling about this, but an opportunity to travel with Victoria and her family isn’t likely to come up often, so I didn’t make much of it and let the conversation flow.

The Misunderstanding of Wealth

However, Victoria and Abigail kept asking odd questions afterwards about the kind of house I lived in in Los Angeles and the kind of car I drove. Finally, they even asked about my relatives’ homes in Los Angeles. I replied that I lived in a house with a pool and my uncle lives by a river.

Hearing this, Victoria and her group laughed maliciously.

“Huh.”

That’s when I realized they were planning to use my relatives to take a trip to the West Coast. Oh no, they’re planning to take full advantage of me. But it’s hard to complain to people you just met, and complaining might jeopardize their acceptance of the marriage.

After much thought, I decided to bear it for now. After all, the chance to go to the West Coast wasn’t immediate. By the time it came around, we’d probably be in a position to have a proper discussion. For the moment, I decided not to touch on the subject.

Somehow, I managed to get through the introductions. At the end, Abigail asked for my contact information, which I regretfully shared. That was a big mistake.

After that, she started contacting me more frequently. At first, it was about once a week, so I just went along with it or declined casually. But gradually, she began to reach out more often. It became a hassle, and I started making convenient excuses like being at work or driving.

Once Scott and I filed our marriage application, Abigail became completely unreserved. I tried to accommodate her a few times, but twice or thrice a week was just too much.

And yet, today she called again saying, “Hey Lynn, want to hang out?”

“It’s already 8:00 p.m. I have work tomorrow.”

“What? You can’t make it work, right?”

“No, I can’t.”

Abigail finished high school and works part-time. She probably has more free time, but I’m a full-time employee. I work weekdays from Monday till evening, and my only days off are the weekends and the holidays. Now that I’m married, I have household responsibilities too. I just don’t have the leisure to accommodate Abigail.

“Sorry, I have a meeting early tomorrow morning.”

“Stingy. Even though you’re rich.”

With those words, the call ended. Since then, I haven’t heard from Abigail.

Clarifying the Confusion

What’s this about being rich? I work full-time, but it’s not like I earn a high salary. I couldn’t make sense of it.

The next day, I got a call from Victoria. “Lynn, want to go shopping together?”

“Um, I’m pretty busy with work,” I replied nonchalantly.

Then Victoria said something strange. “You’re rich, right Lynn? I wanted to consult you about some brands I’m interested in.”

Wait, did I just hear something odd? Something about being rich? Wondering if I misheard, I asked Victoria to clarify.

“Sorry, did you just say something about being rich?”

“Uh-huh. Yes, I did. What about it?”

“I’m not rich.”

“What? But you lived in Los Angeles, right?” Victoria said as if it were the most natural thing.

Does living in Los Angeles automatically make one rich? If that logic holds, does it mean all Los Angeles residents are wealthy? All these thoughts were swirling in my head as I sighed.

Victoria asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Just a misunderstanding. I’m not rich.”

“What? Even though you lived in a house with a pool?”

“That’s common in California.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, I must have misunderstood.”

With those words, Victoria abruptly hung up. I was left puzzled. What was that all about? No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t find an answer.

When I discussed this with Scott, he talked to Victoria and Abigail for me. According to Scott, here’s what happened: learning that I lived in Los Angeles, and specifically in a house with a pool, they assumed it must be in Beverly Hills. Beverly Hills means wealth, so they concluded I must be wealthy.

Indeed, if one lives in Beverly Hills, it’s not unreasonable to think they might be well off. But I just lived in Los Angeles, not Beverly Hills. So Victoria and her group’s assumption were flawed, but they believed what they thought. Hence the probing about my house.

I did find it odd when they asked me those questions, but I couldn’t lie so I told the truth, which unfortunately fed their misconceptions. A house with a pool might be common in California, but it’s almost unheard of here in Birmingham. It seems Victoria and her group misunderstood and thought I was wealthy.

They probably thought being rich means they could benefit from my marriage. They could expect money gifts from me. Anyway, if I cozy up to them, something good might come of it—that seems to be what they were thinking. That’s why they were contacting me so often.

Eventually, Scott clarified the misunderstanding, but Victoria and her group seemed to grumble about it. “Well, if I had been a rich girl, maybe we could have gone on trips or partied every night.”

I can understand their disappointment when all that became impossible. But still, it was good that the misunderstanding was cleared up.