My Sister Mocked Me as ‘Just Lucky’ at Thanksgiving—She Had No Idea I Controlled Her Paycheck”
Thanksgiving always has a way of sharpening old family dynamics, turning them louder, brighter, harder to ignore. The house smelled like roasted turkey and buttered stuffing, the kind of scent that seeps into your clothes and lingers long after the plates are cleared. My mother had been cooking since dawn, moving around the kitchen with the tense energy of someone determined to make the day perfect, as if perfection could glue together the cracks that had been quietly widening in our family for years. Everyone showed up smiling, arms full of casseroles and store-bought desserts, voices already raised from forced cheer and unresolved comparisons.
We were all seated around the table, that heavy wooden thing my parents had owned since before Emily and I were born. The same table where report cards were praised or criticized, where birthday cakes were cut, where arguments were staged and then buried under silence. I took my usual seat, glass of water in hand, posture relaxed, saying very little. I’d learned long ago that the less I said, the less ammunition I gave anyone. Conversation bounced from football scores to traffic to who was dating whom. It all felt rehearsed, like lines read from memory.
Someone eventually asked me how work was going. It was an innocent question, the kind people ask when they don’t know what else to say. I answered the way I always did, calmly, without numbers or names or achievements. Business was good. I was grateful. We had a strong team. Nothing flashy, nothing that invited scrutiny. I could feel my mother relax slightly, reassured that dinner would stay civil.
Then Emily leaned back in her chair and smiled.
“Yeah, well,” she said lightly, swirling her wine like she was about to deliver a punchline, “he just got lucky.”
The room went quiet in that strange, suspended way that happens when everyone senses something is off but no one wants to be the first to react. I looked up at her, searching her face for a hint of humor, some sign that she was joking. She wasn’t. Her expression held that familiar mix of confidence and resentment I’d seen my entire life, the look she wore when she believed she was finally saying the truth out loud.
“Lucky?” my father asked carefully, fork hovering midair.
Emily nodded, encouraged by the attention. “Yeah. I mean, come on. Renewable energy blew up at exactly the right time. He just happened to be there. Anyone could’ve done what he did if they were in the right place at the right moment.”
She kept going, words spilling out faster now, like she’d been saving them. She talked about timing, about trends, about how success wasn’t always about skill or intelligence. She said things like “right industry” and “good wave to ride,” her voice growing more animated with each sentence. She gestured toward me with her glass, not angrily, but dismissively, as if she were explaining something obvious to a room that just hadn’t caught up yet.
I didn’t interrupt. I didn’t defend myself. I didn’t correct her. I just listened, nodding slightly, the way you do when someone is determined to hear their own voice. Across the table, my mother shifted uncomfortably. My uncle stared down at his plate. My cousins avoided eye contact altogether. Emily’s boyfriend nodded along, completely absorbed, as if she were delivering a lecture rather than dismantling me in front of our family.
When she finally paused, clearly expecting a reaction, I smiled.
“You might be right,” I said quietly. “Luck definitely plays a role.”
That seemed to satisfy her more than any argument would have. She leaned back, smug, convinced she’d won something. Conversation limped forward after that, redirected toward dessert and football and anything safer than the tension still hanging in the air. Plates were cleared. People stood and stretched. Chairs scraped against the floor. My mother urged everyone into the living room for pie, eager to change the setting, maybe hoping the moment would dissolve if we physically moved away from it.
As everyone stood, I pulled my phone from my pocket, my movements casual, unremarkable. To anyone watching, I probably looked like I was checking a text or scrolling mindlessly. In reality, I opened the internal system I’d built my company on, the one that let me manage payroll, benefits, access, and employment status from anywhere. The same system I trusted because it didn’t care about family ties or holiday dinners.
Emily’s name was there, exactly where it had been for months.
I tapped into her profile, read through the notes already documented, the warnings already issued, the performance issues already recorded. None of it was new. None of it was emotional. It was all there in black and white. I changed her status from active to terminated. Entered the date. Selected the reason. The app asked me to confirm.
I did.
The entire process took less than two minutes. By the time I locked my phone and followed everyone into the living room, it was done. Her access was gone. Her next deposit was canceled. Systems don’t hesitate. They don’t debate. They don’t care if it’s Thanksgiving.
I sat down with a slice of pumpkin pie and listened as Emily continued talking, now shifting her commentary to my house, my car, the way I dressed. She laughed about how “modest” everything was, how someone with my supposed income should look more successful. I nodded along, focused on my dessert, letting her words pass over me without resistance. There was no need to respond. Not anymore.
The rest of the evening unfolded normally. Football played in the background. My father fell asleep in his chair. People said their goodbyes. Emily hugged our parents without looking at me. I drove home that night feeling lighter than I had in months, the decision finally made, the weight finally lifted.
Four days later, her paycheck didn’t arrive.
My phone started vibrating in the middle of a client meeting, the screen lighting up again and again with her name. I ignored it. Then the texts started. Short at first. Confused. Then sharper. Accusatory. Demanding. She called my office. She called my personal number. She left voicemails that grew more frantic by the hour. By the end of the day, the confusion had turned into rage.
She still had no idea when, or how quietly, the decision had been made.
And sitting there at my desk, watching the messages stack up, I realized something that had nothing to do with luck at all.
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At Thanksgiving, My Sister Called Me “Just Lucky.” Little Did She Know…
At Thanksgiving, my sister called me just lucky. Little did she know, I was her boss. The next day, her paycheck bounced and her career hit the wall. So, my sister called me a lucky in front of the entire family during Thanksgiving dinner. She had no notion that I was her true employer. I simply smiled, nodded, and discreetly withdrew her off payroll right at the table.
Her direct deposit bounced 4 days later. It turns out that luck had no role in this. Let me back up and provide some perspective since this has been brewing for years. I am 34 years old and my sister Emily is 30. We grew up in a typical middle-ass household in the suburbs. Nothing fancy or horrible. Our parents were accountants who emphasized education and hard work. Standard stuff.
They instilled in us the belief that if we worked hard and kept focused, we would achieve success. Solid advice in theory. Emily’s and my differences became apparent early on. I was the kid who saved his birthday money and mowed the grass to purchase a better bike. She was the kid who squandered her allowance the day she got it and then begged our parents for more.
I read investment books in high school whereas she read celebrity gossip publications. I worked part-time jobs throughout college while she concentrated on her social life and barely maintained a passing GPA. I’m not saying this to make myself appear ideal. I’m far from it. I had different priorities. I desired financial security.
I wanted to construct something. Emily wanted to have fun and work things out later. Neither strategy is absolutely incorrect, but they produce quite different results. After college, I began working in renewable energy consultancy. Boring name, but intriguing work. Basically, I assisted enterprises in transitioning to solar and wind power.
Managed the financial analysis and project management aspects of things. The industry was rapidly expanding and I was quite proficient in my field. Within four years, I was managing significant clients and earning six figures. But here’s the trouble about working for someone else. There is a ceiling.
You can only go so far until you make someone else rich instead of yourself. I witnessed my boss purchase his third vacation property while I received a 4% yearly increase that barely kept up with inflation. I was creating millions of dollars in sales for the firm while receiving only a fraction of that value in remuneration. The numbers did not work in my favor over time.
So, at the age of 27, I took a gamble that my whole family believed was ridiculous. I resigned my comfy corporate position to create my own renewable energy consulting business. My manager chuckled when I tendered my notice. He assured me I’d be back in a year, begging for my old job. He felt the sector was extremely competitive, and I lacked the necessary contacts to succeed.
His dismissive demeanor was nearly as inspiring as my own drive. The first year was grueling. I worked 80our weeks. I ate ramen more often than I would care to confess. I lost sleep, wondering whether I’d made a huge mistake. I maxed out two credit cards to keep the firm solvent while I grew my clientele. There were evenings when I sat at my
laptop until 2:00 a.m. I wondered whether everyone who had doubted me had been correct. My parents were supportive yet concerned. They’d see me at family gatherings, fatigued and agitated, and I could see they were questioning their encouragement. My father would say that there was no guilt in returning to corporate job if things didn’t work out.
He meant good but it appeared like he was already preparing my defeat. Emily felt I was a stupid for foregoing a consistent salary. She warned anybody who would listen that I would fail and return to corporate life within 7 months. She would make jokes at family gatherings about how I was about to apply for a job with her.
Present was a lot of supporting sister energy present. Around eight months in, I had precisely $300 in my company account and a crucial proposal due in three days. I had not paid myself a paycheck in four months. I was living on credit cards and the last of my funds. That was my lowest point, sitting in my barely affordable apartment, wondering if I should give up and start sending out resumes.
But then the proposition arrived. A midsize manufacturing business sought to transition to solar electricity. It wasn’t a large deal by any means, about $85,000 altogether, but it was enough to keep me going. More significantly, they connected me with four additional firms in their industry network. Those referrals led to additional referrals.
Suddenly, I had momentum. Spoiler alert, I did not fail. By year two, I’d secured four significant contracts. By year three, I was adding staff and declining work because we were at capacity. By year five, which is where we are today, I’m operating a business with 25 workers, generating over $8 million in sales each year and personally clearing over $420,000 after expenditures and payroll.
I still drive the same Honda Civic that I purchased secondhand 5 years ago. I reside in a decent yet modest home. I don’t wear luxury clothing or display my money. To look at me, you’d think I was just another ordinary person with a regular job, which is exactly how I wanted. The folks that really matter are aware of what I’ve built.
Everyone else is free to think what they wish. Emily, on the other hand, has worked eight different jobs during the last seven years. She attended college for communications, which she chose because it seems simple. She graduated with a 2.8 GPA, and no specific plans. Since then, she has worked in retail, restaurants, an insurance office, a gym, a marketing business that dismissed her after 4 months, and a few more places I can’t recall.
She seldom stays any place for more than a year. There’s always a reason why the work isn’t for her, why her boss is bad, or why she deserves more. Emily visited my house on a Tuesday night 2 years ago. She cried. She claimed she had recently been dismissed from her most recent job for being late too often. She needed money for rent or she would be evicted.
She promised to pay me back. She vowed this was the wakeup call she needed to get her life in order. I handed her money, not as a loan. I knew I’d never see it again, but because she was my sister and I didn’t want her to be homeless, I also informed her that I couldn’t continue to bail her out.
She needed to sort out her life. She nodded, thanked me, and said she would. The next week, she purchased a new iPhone priorities. About 7 months later, she contacted to see if I had any employment opportunities at my firm. She had been working at a retail business and despised it. She wants something with more income and perks.
She aspired to work in an office where she would feel professional and significant. This is perhaps when I should have said no. Every rational bone in my body warned me that this was a horrible decision. Do not combine family and business. Do not hire someone with her professional history. Do not do it. But she is my sister.
And my mother had been hinting that it would be great if I could assist Emily out. Emily seemed sincere in her desire to make a difference. So despite my better judgment, I established a position for her. I did not give her anything significant or important. I was not an idiot. I appointed her as client services coordinator, which is a fancy term for someone who answers emails, plans meetings, manages basic administrative responsibilities, and organizes our customer contact.
Entry-level job paid $45,000 a year, including perks, good pay for the work, and honestly, more than she’d ever earned any place else. I sat her down before her first day and set clear expectations. Show up on time, reply to emails within 24 hours. Keep the client database up to date, and communicate professionally in all situations.
These are all fundamental tasks that every effective employee should be able to accomplish. She nodded, said she understood, and pledged not to let me down. For the first month, she was excellent, showed there early, stayed late, and was excited to learn. I began to wonder if I had made a mistake in doubting her.
Maybe she had actually turned things around. Perhaps working for her family would provide the impetus she required. Then month two arrived and the cracks began to emerge. She started coming in late, only 5 or 10 minutes at first, which I tolerated because I’m not a strict taskmaster. But then it became 15 minutes, then 30, and then an hour.
When I spoke with her about it, she always had an excuse. The traffic was awful. Her alarm did not go off. She wasn’t feeling good. Never her fault. Always an external issue beyond her control. Her job quality deteriorated as well. Emails remained unanswered for days. Client meetings were planned at the inappropriate times.
The database became a jumble of outof-date information and missing entries. My office manager, Sophia, approached me three times in one month concerning Emily’s performance. Sophia has been with me from year 1, and she never complains until there is an issue. Emily once arranged an important presentation with a potential custome
r at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday. The customer traveled in from Nevada just for this meeting. At 1:45, I received a call from our front desk stating that the conference room was not set up and Emily was not in the office. It turned out she had gone to eat at noon and never returned. I did not call or SMS. I simply disappeared. I discovered out later that she had met some acquaintances at the restaurant and opted to hang out with them rather than return to work. She arrived at 400 p.m.
It seemed like nothing had occurred. I had to personally apologize and reschedule the client’s flight. We ultimately obtained the contract, but only because I paid a portion of our expenses to compensate for the lack of professionalism. That single episode cost me around $18,000 in missed income and almost wrecked a relationship with a client who could have brought us years of repeat business.
When I asked Emily about it, she said that she had lost track of time and didn’t think it was a big problem because I was there to manage the meeting anyhow. I didn’t think it was a big problem. A customer went across three states for a meeting she booked but then cancelled and she didn’t consider it a big problem. Another occasion she sent an email to a prospective client that included so many typos and grammatical issues that they phoned me to inquire whether we were a real business.
The email clearly stated, “We look forward to doing business with your company.” I had to explain that we were in the process of training a new employee which was not reflective of our regular standards. Emily had been working there for 4 months by that moment. This was not a new employee error. This was simply lazy work. I took Emily aside for a talk, not as her brother, but as her supervisor.
I informed her that the late arrivals had to stop and her job quality needed to improve. She quickly became defensive. Said I was being too harsh on her. Said I didn’t realize how demanding the work was. Sophia said she went after her because she was envious of Emily’s status as the boss’s sister. That final part nearly made me giggle.
Sophia has no cause to be envious of anyone. She was my right hand, earning $95,000 per year, plus incentives and owning genuine stock in the firm. But Emily wanted someone to blame. And Sophia was an obvious choice. I issued Emily a formal written warning, recorded everything, and informed her that if things did not change within 30 days, we would have to re-evaluate her employment.
She sobbed and pledged to do better, and things improved for approximately 2 weeks before resuming their previous patterns. The thing that really struck me was not even her awful performance. It was her attitude in the office. She often complained about how hard she had to work. Meanwhile, she would take hour-long lunch breaks and spend half of the day on her phone.
She would complain about being underpaid, although earning more than the market rate for her job and experience level. She’d make comments about how simple it was for me as the owner, as if I just sat around counting money all day instead of working my tail off to keep everything going well. My other employees started to notice.
I’d hear them complain about Emily receiving preferential treatment since she was related, and they were correct. Any other employee with her track record would have been sacked some months ago. But I continued to give her opportunities because of our bond. It was just as I had been informed before I hired her.
The final straw occurred approximately 3 months ago, just before Thanksgiving. A large customer, a commercial real estate business intending to convert five buildings with solar panels, most likely a 2.5 million deal over two years, approached Emily with some queries regarding our proposal time frame. Simple things. They wanted to know when we could start, what the payment plan would be, and whether we could use their chosen vendors for specific components.
Emily’s duty was to convey those queries to the right individuals on my team, collect replies, and construct a professional response, which was basic coordination work. This was exactly why I hired her. She never responded to the email and never did anything. The client called back a week later, slightly irritated. Still no reaction from Emily.
They followed up again, this time directly with me and were really upset. They were prepared to walk away and take their 2.5 million project to arrival. I learned out when the client phoned me personally, which should never have happened. When I approached Emily about it, she said that she had been preoccupied with other duties and had forgotten.
I forgot about a 2.5 million customer. Forgot to complete the fundamental task for which I paid her $45,000 each year. I spent four hours on the phone personally smoothing things up with that client, apologizing for our lack of communication, and offered them a discount to compensate for the inconvenience.
I just avoided losing the contract, but the harm to our reputation had already been done. They’d recall how my organization failed to react to simple communications in a timely fashion. I should have dismissed her right then, but Thanksgiving was 3 weeks away and my mother had been inquiring if Emily and I were both coming to dinner.
She was ecstatic that we were working together. She continued telling me how happy she was that I was assisting my sister in advancing her profession. I didn’t have the heart to dismiss Emily just before the holidays and spoil my mother’s Thanksgiving. So, I choose to wait until after Thanksgiving.
I’d enjoy the holiday, then have a professional talk with Emily the next week about how things weren’t going well. I’d offer her a severance package, two months money to ease her move, and wish her well, clean, professional, kind even. Then Thanksgiving dinner occurred. My entire family was there.
My parents, Emily and her boyfriend, David, my aunt and uncle, and two cousins. Standard Christmas gathering. Mom had gone all out on the cuisine. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, three types of pie, the works. Everyone was in excellent spirits, chatting and joking. After we finished eating, we sat around the table in that postmeal haze where you’re too full to move yet too comfy to go.
Someone asked me how my work was going simply to make conversation. I provided my typical response, saying business was good. We’d had a successful year. I was thankful for our clients and crew. Nothing extravagant, just nice dinner talk. Emily decided to join in. Yeah, well, he got lucky. That’s all it is. The table was silent.
I looked at her, assuming I had misheard or she was joking. But she had a smile on her face. The type you make when you believe you are going to say something brilliant. What do you mean? My father said puzzled. Emily leaned back in her chair, preparing for her speech. I mean, he acts like he’s some brilliant businessman, but he just got lucky with timing.
The renewable energy boom happened right when he started his company. He rode the wave. Anyone could have done what he did if they’d been in the right place at the right time. My uncle lifted his eyebrows but said nothing. My mother seemed uneasy. Emily’s boyfriend David was nodding along as if she were imparting knowledge.
I waited there waiting to see whether she would dig the hole further. She did. Honestly, if you look at it objectively, he’s not even that smart about business. She said she was now on a roll loving her audience. Like his whole strategy is just undercutting competitors on price. That’s not genius. That’s basic.
a trained monkey could do what he does. Emily, my mother began, but Emily waved her away. No, it’s true. Everyone acts like he’s this amazing success story, but it’s literally just luck. Right time, right industry, right circumstances. He works hard, sure, but so do lots of people who aren’t successful. The difference is, he got lucky.
She looked squarely at me as she stated that last sentence as if daring me to disagree. My cousins were looking at their dishes, apparently uneasy. My father appeared to want to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. My aunt was giving Emily the look you give someone who has just insulted the host. But I didn’t become angry. I did not defend myself. I did not argue.
I simply smiled and nodded. You might be right, I answered gently. Luck definitely played a role. Emily seemed almost unhappy that I didn’t take the bait. She’d plainly wanted a battle to put me on the defensive so she could make her point about how I take myself too seriously or whatever narrative she’d made up in her mind.
“Exactly,” she said, feeling vindicated. “People need to stop acting like he’s special. He just got lucky. That’s the truth.” “Well,” my uncle said plainly attempting to divert the subject. “Lucky or not, it’s working out well for him.” “For now,” Emily said. “But luck runs out eventually. Then we’ll see how successful he really is. My mother recommended we relocate to the living room for pie.
Everyone leaped at the opportunity to end the unpleasant talk. As everybody stood up from the table, I took out my phone as if I were reading texts. I accessed my company’s HR management software. We utilize a system that allows me to manage payroll, benefits, and scheduling remotely. Very convenient, especially in situations like these.
I went to Emily’s employee profile, clicked on the employment status option, changed it from active to terminated, inserted today’s date as the end date, and wrote a message in the termination reason field about performance concerns and a breach of the business behavior policy. The app prompted me to confirm the termination. I clicked yes.
It inquired whether I wanted to process any last payments or severance. I clicked no. She’d receive her last salary for hours worked, but that was all. There is no severance package, no two-month compensation, nothing. The entire operation took around 90 seconds. Emily had officially left my company by the time I came into the living room to get pie.
Her access to our systems was automatically removed. Her next direct deposit due for the following Friday had been cancelled. I sat down with my slice of pumpkin pie and listened to Emily rant about how overrated I was. She had gone on to criticize my residence, claiming that it was too modest for someone with my alleged income.
Clearly, I was either lying about my income or too ignorant to understand how to spend money wisely. One or the other. I simply nodded and ate my pie. I didn’t say anything about what I just did. Why should I? She’d find out quickly enough. The remainder of Thanksgiving was lovely. Emily ultimately moved on to different issues. We watched football.
My father fell asleep in his recliner. Standard Christmas things. When Emily departed that evening, she embraced mom and dad and said goodbye to everyone. She did not even glance at me. I went home that night and enjoyed the best sleep I’d had in months. There was no remorse or second-guing, only satisfaction that I had finally made the decision I should have made months ago.
Friday morning, I arrived to the workplace early. Sophia was already present. She always is. I summoned her into my office and informed her that Emily was no longer with the firm. Sophia’s expression revealed a mix of relief and apprehension. She inquired whether I was all right. I told her I was okay, that it was overdue, and that we’d have to disperse Emily’s tasks until we found a successor.
Sophia nodded. I’ll handle it. And for what it’s worth, you made the right call. She wasn’t a good fit here. I know, I said. I should have done it sooner. We wrote a quick email to the team that morning. Emily Turner was no longer with the firm, effective immediately. Her tasks had been reallocated. All customers should be routed to Sophia for coordination till further notice.
professional and to the point. Several employees stopped by my office during the day. Nobody inquired as to what had transpired. They all knew. They had been watching Emily coast for months while doing genuine work. A few folks praised me for finally addressing the issue. That stung a little, knowing my staff had been dissatisfied for so long because I had allowed family loyalty cloud my judgment.
Emily’s direct deposit should have arrived the following Friday. My phone started blowing up at 2 p.m. Emily’s first text message. Hey, my paycheck didn’t deposit. Can you check with payroll? I did not react. I was having a meeting with a client. Second text. 10 minutes later. Seriously, where’s my paycheck? This is ridiculous. Third text.
5 minutes later. I need that money today. I have bills to pay. Fix this now. She then called. I refused it. She called again, declined yet again. Then my office phone rang. Sophia took it up, listened for a minute, and then entered my office. Emily’s online too, Sophia added, evidently trying not to smile.
She’s very upset about her paycheck. Tell her to check her email, I replied. She should have received a termination notification last week. Sophia returned to her workstation. I overheard her deliver that message. Then I heard Emily’s voice get loud enough for me to make out words over Sophia’s phone. Sophia muttered something else and hung up. She says she never got any email.
Sophia stated. And she’s demanding to speak with you. Did you verify that the termination email was sent? I requested an answer. Sophia examined her PC. Sent Friday at 8 a.m. to her company email. She probably hasn’t checked it since Thanksgiving. Of course, she had not. Emily viewed checking her work email as optional.
Another reason she had performed poorly in her work. If she calls back, tell her to check her company email for all relevant information regarding her termination. I told her. and if she continues to harass our office line, we’ll need to block her number. Emily called back three times. Sophia repeatedly gave her the same message and ultimately blocked her number.
Then Emily began messaging me individually. The texts were progressively more furious. You fired me? Are you kidding me right now? You can’t just fire me without warning. That’s illegal. Mom is going to hear about this. Dad, too, you’re going to regret this. I can’t believe you do this to your own sister. You’re a terrible person.
This is because I told the truth about you at Thanksgiving, isn’t it? You’re that petty. You owe me that paycheck. I worked for that money. I answered to just one text. You received your final paycheck for all hours worked up to your termination date on November 25th. Any questions about your termination should be directed to HR. Then I silenced the discussion.
She attempted to contact my personal phone. I didn’t respond. She contacted my workplace straight. Sophia stopped her. She even showed up to my office on Monday morning, but our building is secured and requires a key card to enter the lobby. Security phoned and asked whether I was expecting Emily Turner. I said no.
She was no longer worked here, thus they should ask her to leave. They did. The real pyrochnics began when she contacted my folks. My mother contacted me that Monday evening just as I was leaving the workplace. She sounded disturbed. What’s this about you firing Emily? She inquired. No. Hello. No. How are you? Write to the accusation.
It is true. I said I terminated her employment last Friday without even talking to her first without any warning. She had multiple warnings, Mom. Written documentation, performance improvement plans. I’d been trying to work with her for months. She chose not to improve. But she’s your sister, my mother said. And she was my employee, a bad employee.
I gave her more chances than I would have given anyone else specifically because she’s my sister, but I can’t run a business on family sentiment. My mother was quiet for a bit. After that, she said, “Emily says you fired her because she said you got lucky at Thanksgiving. She thinks you’re just being petty and vindictive.
” I chuckled at it. Mom, I fired her because she was bad at her job. She consistently showed up late, ignored client emails, created problems for my team, and cost me a major contract because she couldn’t be bothered to do basic tasks. The Thanksgiving comment had nothing to do with it. She says, “You did it on your phone right there at dinner.
” I processed her termination on Thanksgiving. Yes, but the decision was made weeks ago. I was planning to fire her that following Monday anyway. Her little speech just moved up the timeline. You should have talked to her first, given her another chance. I gave her six months of chances, Mom. How many more did you want me to give her? My mother sighed.
She’s really struggling now. She doesn’t have a job. She’s behind on rent. She needs help. Then she should have thought about that before she decided to coast at the one job where someone actually gave her a real opportunity. She’s family and I’m not her personal ATM. I stated more strongly than I typically did to my mother. I helped her by giving her a good job with good pay. She threw that away.
Those are consequences of her own choices. My mother didn’t like that response. She attempted the guilt trip tactic, saying Emily was my younger sister and I should want to assist her. I listened patiently and then told her I had to go. She wasn’t pleased, but she let me hang up the phone. My father phoned the next day.
He was very straightforward about it. You need to give Emily her job back, he told her. No preamble. No, I don’t, I answered. She’s your sister. You can’t just abandon her like this. I’m not abandoning her. I’m holding her accountable for her work performance. There’s a difference. But she made one comment at Thanksgiving and you ruined her life over it.
Dad, I kept detailed records of every performance issue, every late arrival, every missed deadline, every client complaint. This has nothing to do with Thanksgiving and everything to do with 6 months of documented poor performance. Ask her about the 2.5 million client she almost lost us because she couldn’t be bothered to respond to an email.
My father went silent. What client? I described the problem. Emily had ignored many emails from a large customer. I had to personally intercede to rescue the deal. How that was only one of many concerns. She never mentioned that. My father explained softly. Of course, she didn’t because that would require her to take responsibility for her actions instead of blaming everyone else.
My father remained quiet for a long time. He then stated, “Your mother is very upset about this. I’m sorry she’s upset, but I made the right business decision. Emily was a liability to my company. I couldn’t keep her on staff just because we share DNA. Family is supposed to support each other. I did support her dad.
I gave her a job she wasn’t qualified for. I paid her more than market rate. I gave her chance after chance to improve. At some point, support becomes enabling. I’m not going to enable her to coast through life expecting other people to carry her. My father didn’t say much to that. He advised me to think about what I was doing before hanging up.
Emily attempted many more times to get me to rehire her or at least offer her severance pay. She wrote me lengthy text messages about how unjust I was being, how I had never understood her. Everyone expected her to be like me, but she couldn’t live up to it. How I was successful because I’d had advantages she didn’t have.
I did not reply to any of it. There was nothing to say. She had created a story in which she was the victim and I was the villain and nothing I said could change it. People believe anything they choose to believe. About 2 weeks after I dismissed her, my mother phoned again. She sounded exhausted.
I just want you to know that your father and I loaned Emily money for her rent. She said she’s looking for a new job, but it’s taking time. Okay. I responded. We’re disappointed in how you’ve handled this situation. That’s your right, Mom. But I stand by my decision. She’s your sister. You should have helped her. I did help her for 6 months. I helped her.
She chose not to help herself. My mother side, I don’t think you understand how hard things are for her right now. I understand perfectly well. I also understand that she created this situation for herself. I’m sorry she’s struggling, but those are natural consequences of her choices. You’ve become very hard, my mother observed gently. No, Mom.
I’ve just learned that helping people who don’t want to help themselves doesn’t actually help them. It just enables them to keep making bad choices. We didn’t talk for a while after that call. My parents were upset with me. Emily was telling everyone who would listen that I’d betrayed her. My aunt apparently thought I was being too harsh.
My uncle thought I’d done the right thing, but wasn’t going to say so publicly because he didn’t want to deal with my mom’s reaction. But you know what? My business ran better without Emily there. Sophia hired a replacement within four weeks. A recent college grad named Rachel, who actually showed up on time, responded to emails, and treated her job with respect. Client communication enhanced.
My team’s morale increased. Everything just works better. About a month later, I received a text from Emily. It was different from her prior furious texts. I got a new job. Starts Monday. Just wanted you to know I’m fine. I texted back. Glad to hear it. Good luck with the new position. She did not react. I did not expect her to.
That was probably our final direct communication for a while, perhaps forever. Some bridges burn and remain burnt. My parents gradually began talking to me again, but things were clearly tight. Mom would call from time to time, and we’d talk about nothing in particular. Dad gave me an article on a solar project that he had read about.
Small attempts toward normaly, yet the underlying tension remained. They had made it apparent that they believed I was incorrect. I made it apparent that I didn’t care. Christmas was awkward as heck. We all gathered at my parents’ place since that is what you do. Emily was there with David. We did not talk directly to each other.
She spent the entire time on her phone or in quiet conversation with David. I spent time with my cousins and avoided the living room where Emily was stationed. At one time, my father attempted to create a discussion between us. He asked, “Why don’t you two talk and work this out?” as if we were kids arguing over a toy.
Emily gazed at me with chilly eyes. I returned the stare with the same indifferent expression. Neither of us said anything. My father gave up and went back to watching football. Things became more fascinating shortly after New Year’s. Emily evidently informed David her entire account of the story. How I dismissed her out of jealously and vengeance.
How I couldn’t take her speaking the truth about my accomplishment. how I was a nasty person who abandoned my family. David being the smart thinker that he is, resolved to assist Emily. Exact retribution. He made a phony Google review for my firm. One celebrity said we duped his company out of $50,000 and never delivered on our promises.
They said we were scammers running a phony enterprise. He even created a fictitious business name to make it appear real. The difficulty with David’s strategy was that I had set up Google alerts for my company’s name. I saw the review within an hour of it being posted. I also saw that the account that posted it was formed on the same day and it only posted one review indicating that it was not a complex operation.
I took images, recorded everything, and reported the review to Google as false. It was deleted within 48 hours. Then I had my attorney send David a cease and desist letter for defamation and attempted harm to my company reputation. The letter threatened possible legal action if he continued. Emily contacted me two days later, shouting that I was going to sue her boyfriend.
I gently reminded her that if her partner intended to commit actionable defamation, he should be prepared to face the consequences. Then I hung up. David seemed to have backed off after that. There will be no more phony reviews or efforts at retribution. It turns out that threatening people with serious legal penalties makes them reassess their activities.
In February, my mother called with some news. Emily was evicted from her flat. She’d been staying with David, but their relationship had crumbled following the legal threat. She was now requesting to move back in with our parents. My mother wondered whether I would rethink employing Emily again. I said no. She asked if I would at least lend Emily money for a deposit. I said no again.
She said I was being unkind. I told her that Emily had squandered every chance, humiliated me publicly, and had her boyfriend attempt to damage my business. At what point did Emily become accountable for her own situation? My mother didn’t have an answer. Emily returned home at 28 years old. However, March provided the most satisfying results.
Remember Emily, our important client who almost lost us because she ignored their emails? What about the 2.5 million contract I had barely saved for? They returned with an expansion idea. They were so pleased with our work on their first five buildings that they asked us to manage another 12 properties. This deal was expected to be worth around $6 million over three years.
During the contract signing meeting, the client’s VP expressed his satisfaction with our communication improvements over the previous months. He notably appreciated our new client services coordinator for her responsiveness and professionalism. They said it was a 180° difference from their last encounter with us. I thanked him and mentioned that we had made some staff adjustments to better serve our customers.
He nodded approvingly and commented that it showed. That arrangement placed us on track to generate more than $13 million in income this year. We were growing quicker than I had anticipated. I hired three extra people, including a second project manager to handle the increasing burden. Business was thriving. My mother informed me that Emily was once again working at a department shop, earning the minimum pay plus commission.
She was still living at home, whining about how unfair life was and blaming everyone but herself. My parents stopped asking me to help her. I believe they eventually understood that no amount of money or opportunity would solve Emily’s basic condition. She did not want to perform the task.
In April, I received a message on LinkedIn from someone who formerly worked with Emily. He said Emily told others she had quit my firm because I was handling it unethically. She said she departed on principle, not because she was fired. I shared a professional update on LinkedIn regarding our company’s expansion and the necessity of upholding excellent standards.
I didn’t mention Emily’s name, but everybody who was familiar with the issue understood. Following that post, two former co-workers reached out. Both stated that they had heard tales from Emily and were relieved to discover that we were genuinely prospering. Her attempts to harm my reputation had entirely failed. People in the industry speak, and when they witnessed my company’s true success, it made her appear bitter and untrustworthy.
By summer, everything had settled into a new routine. My firm has 35 workers and an anticipated yearly revenue of more than $16 million. We moved to a larger office. I ultimately awarded myself a raise and purchased a newer car, still a Honda, but less beat up. My parents and I had achieved a peaceful settlement. We occasionally discussed neutral issues.
They had ceased justifying Emily’s actions, partly because they could no longer ignore the trend. My father genuinely apologized to me in June. Said he understood why I made the decision I did. That mattered more than he understood. Emily was still living at home and working between jobs. Last I heard, she had been fired from the department store for being late too often.
She had moved on to work at a call center. My mother stopped providing me updates until I directly asked for them. In August, I saw David at a petrol station. We established eye contact. He glanced aside quickly and dashed to his car. I simply smiled and went about my day. Some fights are inevitable victories.
The finest part happened in September. We received a significant industry award for innovative renewable energy consultancy. A ceremony was held, a trophy was awarded, and various trade journals covered the event. My crew was ecstatic. Sophia sobbed happy tears. It was a great confirmation of all we had created.
The awards ceremony was held on a Thursday evening. The article was published Friday morning. By Friday afternoon, my phone was flooded with congratulatory messages from colleagues, old co-workers, and even some family members. My mother called that evening. She had seen the article. She stated she was proud of me.
Then she said something that really astonished me. Emily saw the article, too. She didn’t say anything, but I could see it on her face. I think she finally understands what she gave up. I did not reply to that. There was nothing to say. Emily had made her decisions. I had made my the outcomes speak for themselves.
