Stepparenting is never predictable, but I never expected my biggest challenge to come from a honeymoon. Eleven years ago, when I married Gary, I embraced the role of stepmother to Brooke, who was thirteen at the time. Though we didn’t always agree, I did my best to make her feel loved and supported.
Now twenty-three, Brooke had grown into an intelligent, determined, and rather spoiled young woman. Gary and I had always provided for her—covering her college expenses, supporting her dreams, and recently, ensuring her wedding was straight out of a fairy tale. But her reaction to our latest gift left us speechless.
Her wedding had been extravagant, held in a stunning vineyard with twinkling lights. Wanting to make her honeymoon just as special, we spent weeks finding the perfect getaway. We finally booked a luxurious villa in the Dominican Republic, complete with a private pool and breathtaking ocean views. It was costly, but we wanted her and her husband, Mason, to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The day after she arrived, my phone rang. “Hey, sweetheart! How’s the honeymoon?” I asked excitedly.
Her response was anything but cheerful. “Put Dad on speaker.”
Confused, I did as she asked. “What’s going on?”
Brooke sighed dramatically. “This villa is tiny.”
Gary frowned. “Tiny? It’s 800 square meters.”
She scoffed. “Exactly. We expected something grander. The pool is laughable, and the beach is five minutes away! You seriously couldn’t find something closer?”
I could see Gary’s jaw clench. I reached out, silently telling him to stay calm.
“And don’t get me started on the sun,” Brooke continued. “It’s not as golden as it looked online. The whole place feels cheap.”
That was the breaking point. Gary slammed his fist on the table. “Cheap? Do you know how much this cost? We gave you the best, and this is how you act?”
She sighed. “You don’t understand. Just forget it.” And she ended the call.
Gary muttered angrily, pacing the room. “Ungrateful.”
I took a deep breath. “I have an idea.”
His eyebrows rose. “What are you planning?”
I smiled. “She thinks this is cheap? Let’s show her what cheap really is.”
I called the villa’s reception. “Hi, this is Marianne. We need to downgrade the reservation to the simplest room available.”
The receptionist hesitated. “You want to downgrade?”
“Yes. No luxury, just a basic room.”
“We have a standard motel-style room nearby.”
“Perfect. Please inform them immediately.”
A few hours later, Brooke called back, furious. “Marianne! They’re moving us to some awful motel room! Fix this!”
Feigning surprise, I replied, “Oh, that. Since you found the villa too ‘cheap,’ I thought something simpler might be more fitting.”
Her voice cracked. “You can’t be serious!”
Gary finally spoke. “Enough, Brooke. We’ve given you everything, and you repay us with complaints? It’s time to be grateful.”
She tried to argue, but we stood firm.
Days later, she called again, her tone softer. “I just wanted to say sorry. I took everything for granted.”
Gary and I exchanged glances. “We just wanted you to understand,” I said gently.
She sighed. “I do now. Thank you.”
Gary chuckled as he wrapped an arm around me. “That was genius.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes, the best lessons come with a little reality check.”
