Heart Attack Holiday

It should have been a day we would remember fondly for the rest of our lives. Our first Christmas together as a couple. Surrounded by my family at the lakeside vacation home of my new in-laws, I had never been so excited for a holiday get-together. Nervous as I may have been, my affairs had never been in better order.

My mother & father-in-law were not only fond of me, but had actually brought up the idea of letting my wife and I move into the house after the holidays were over, essentially offering it up to us as a bonus wedding gift beyond our greatest imagination. It was a beautiful two bedroom villa with a garage & basement out of a fantasy. They had brought up the idea after a discussion in which I happened to point out that the home was within twenty miles of my graduate school near the Lake of the Ozarks, MO.

But by the end of the night, less than two weeks later on Christmas Day, 2015, not only would we not be moving into the house, but my marriage would be over, my mother-in-law convinced that I tried to rob her & my father dead of a heart attack in the pool, with everything pinned on me. This was, without a doubt, the absolute worst Christmas vacation that not only myself, but anyone for that matter, has ever experienced.

The first sign that something was off occured on the way to the lake house from my college dorm. I was driving alongside my wife, co-worker, and best friend Deborah, when my favorite song, "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones came on the radio.

"Alright!" I exclaimed, and turned the radio up about four notches. I was nodding my head to the rhythm of the song, when my wife turned to glare at me.

"Jeff, could we not?"

I shot a confused look at her, unsure of where she was coming from.

"What's wrong Deb, do you not like this song?"

She sighed, "It's not that I don't like it, I just have a migraine."

What happened next I struggle to explain to this very day. I looked at her, and without a hint of humor said

"You know babe, I just read a study that said that listening to loud music is actually beneficial in getting rid of headaches, not amplifying them."

She chuckled nervously and them winced from her head throb

"Are you fucking serious, Jeff? That's the stupidest thing I've heard all day."

She was right, and I should have ended it there, considering I couldn't even remember where I had heard that bit of headache trivia I just shat out of my mouth without a second thought, but of course, I had to respond.

"You don't have to call me stupid, you know that's a pet peeve of mine—"

"Will you just turn the fucking music off!" She screamed, interrupting me mid-sentence.

What started with me turning a song up on the radio had now turned into a full-on verbal kung-fu match, which would only end when her parents met us in the drive-way of their home, excitedly walking up to the drivers side window of my red 2012 ford focus.

"Jeff, how are we doing, son?" My father-in-law Jim inquired, just as I rolled the window down.

"I'm good, Jim, thanks. It's good to see you guys."

Deborah's mom stuck her head into my car,

"How's my little girl?" She said, almost in baby talk. My wife was still pissed, her head throbbing, but did her best to force a friendly tone like she was really excited to see her folks.

"Great mom. Hey dad! So happy to see you guys."

About an hour and forty five minutes later I was already starting to get a little tipsy from my father-in-law's home-made eggnog. It would probably be important to mention that prior to that night I had been sober for the previous six months. You see, I had always been a bit of a problem drinker, but I figured, eh, what the hell? A couple drinks won't hurt, right? School had been killing me, as I was just five months away from graduating with a masters in clinical social work, and how do you just turn down a nice glass of eggnog anyway?

My parents arrived at the house around 6:30 PM and my new in-laws nearly jumped out of their seats from my Dad’s habit of knocking on front doors like an FBI agent with a battering ram.

“Who the hell is that!?” Eric shouted in a frenzied tone.

“It’s my dad” I said, burping from my drink at the end of the sentence. Eric and my mother-in-law Sheila let them in and by 7:45 we were all eating dinner and laughing nervously from my Dad’s bad jokes and my mom’s insane cackle that takes people a bit of getting used to when they first meet her, in order to not be put off by it. I reached over to my right, clapping my hand over my wife’s and sharing a warm look of agreement with her. This was it. We’d made it. Our lives had changed and we were getting what appeared to be the first glimpses of domesticated life as a family unit.

As we stared each other in the eyes, smiling and nodding our heads together softly in unison, the doorbell rang and the various next instant there was a huge crash. My mother-in-law shrieked and everyone’s heads shot towards the front door.

“Oh my dear God,” Sheila exclaimed.

The coat rack had fallen off the wall and broke in half, having collapsed under the weight of what had to be around 20 jackets and hats, all bunched up together in front of the home’s entrance. Everyone chuckled in a nervous bit of relief.

“How stupid of me, I should’ve expected as much. That thing’s been in the family, what, 25 years?” Sheila turned her head to Eric, who shot me a glance.

“Yeah, something like that hon. Say, Jeff, you wanna help me move those coat’s into our bedroom? I’ll see who’s at the door.”

I nodded, “Sure thing, Eric.”

As I moved the last arm-full of coats into the master bedroom, my phone rang, which I happened to have left in my own jacket, which was sitting at the very bottom of the pile on the bed. I managed to just get to it in time to answer the call. It was my best friend, Steve, who had bought me an expensive cast-iron skillet to replace my own that he had somehow managed to lose after I loaned it to him a couple of months prior. The one he got me was way nicer than my own, and I had decided to bring it over to my in-laws as a gift for Sheila.

“Hey Steve, how’s it going?”

I could hear loud EDM music playing in the background, it sounded like he was celebrating his Christmas at a rave or something, and he clearly couldn’t hear me.

“What!?” he shouted.

I raised my voice, “I said, how’s it going!?”

“Oh,” he said. “It’s good. I’m good Jeff. How’s the skillet? Does you mother-in-law like it? That thing was expensive as hell, you know? You’re lucky we’re friends. I should’ve kept the son-of-a-bitch.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a real luxury item. I’m basically committing theft by taking it.”

Just then I heard shuffling in the doorway, I glanced over and could just barely make out a shape darting out of the room.

“You’re a real smartass, you know that Jeff? Haha.” Steve chuckled.

“I know, I know.” I said, “Anyway, how’s your holiday going so far?”

Steve and I continued chatting as I found my way back out into the living room, poured myself another glass of Eggnog and laid back in my father-in-law’s recliner.

About 20 minutes or so later, right as I was just really starting to feel the alcohol, I heard Eric’s voice crack in a concerned tone.

“Jeff..” he sounded disturbed.

I opened my eyes to see Sheila, Eric, my mom & dad, and Deborah all standing in almost a circle surrounding me in front of the chair.

“We need to talk to you, son..” Eric really sounded concerned.

The trouble had started, and not 30 minutes later, the night would be ruined and my life changed forever.

I stood up. “What the hell’s going on?” I said, genuinely unnerved.

Eric look over to Sheila, than back to me.

“Well, you see son, my wife just went into our bedroom to check on something and she noticed that her Grandfather’s wedding ring that he passed down from his own grandfather is missing.. You know anything about that, Jeff?”

I was dumbfounded and completely offended. What the hell was he talking about?

“Eric, I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to say, but I gotta say man, you’re way, way off here..” Sheila began shaking her head, looking more disappointed in me than my own mother had ever looked in my entire life.

My dad chimed in “You know son, if you took it, you can say so. They just want it back..”

I huffed, pissed off now that whatever the hell was going on was ruining my night.

“Hey, no, screw that. I didn’t steal anybody’s goddamn.. anything! Why the hell would I steal.. Deb.. are you hearing this?”

To my absolute astonishment, she appeared to be crying.

“Tell him what you heard, Sheila” Eric said.

She sighed, paused for a moment, and continued.

“Well, I walked into the room to see if he needed any help with the coats, and he was rummaging around through one of the coats on the bed. I realized that I had left my grand-dad’s ring on the bed and was about to walk over when I heard him talking to somebody about committing theft. I got out of the room real quick so he wouldn’t see me and waited till he came out to go in and check for my ring, and sure enough.. It was gone.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My face was hot, and I could tell that my cheeks were red. Inexplicably, I started laughing. The situation was almost too ridiculous to believe. Did they seriously think I stole a precious family heirloom from them? I spoke up. “Guys, this is a massive misunderstanding..” I choked on some spit, and coughed, holding my hand out, to ensure noone started talking before I could finish. “Okay.. So, I was on the phone with my friend Steve.. You see, he replaced a cast-iron skillet of mine, and I’ve got it.. Um.. Here!” I ran over to the pile of presents next to the tree to take the skillet out of the package and show them. I rummaged around for the gift. “He was telling me that he should have kept the pan, because of how nice it is.. And I was like, yeah.. Uh.. Steve, I basically committed theft by taking it from you.” I chuckled nervously.

I grabbed a gift and unwrapped it. And to my shock, it was the wrong one.

“Shit,” I said.

I went back into the pile to try and find the right one. As I was rummaging, Eric spoke up.

“Oh, that’s enough. Just stop it, Jeff. This is ridiculous. Now, you just give the gift back or you can get the hell out of my house. Also, Debby says you’ve been drinking. I thought you were supposed to be sober!”

He grabbed my shirt, and my dad ran over pushing him away.

“Now, you just get the hell away from my son!”

I shrieked, in horror.

“Dad, stop!”

Just then, Eric and my dad started fighting.

“Let’s take this outside!” My dad yelled.

“My pleasure!” Eric roared.

Everybody in the house started going nuts. I attempted to break the fight up, and Eric punched me in the face. The two ran out side, and grabbed each other. With a running start, I darted in between them, pushing my dad out of the way. He slipped on some water next to the pool, and fell in.

“Dad!” I screamed.

“AGGHHH!!” He yelled, in the most blood curdling way. “My chest! My.. My chest!!”

I spent the remainder of the night in the hospital. My dad had suffered a massive heart attack. My wife and I got in the worst fight of our entire lives, and we had known each other since high school by that point. My dad would pass later that night. His final words were “See Jeff, Eric ain’t so tough.” After that night, the next time I would see my wife in person would be in court. Two court dates after that, we were divorced, and even though we had only been married for three months, half of the money I inherited from my dad was now hers. I haven’t celebrated Christmas since.