"Have them live here? No way," Richard said shaking his head.

The request wasn't exactly a revelation. The writing had been on the wall for at least a year. The intervals between tear-sodden appeals for cash had become shorter and shorter, and the sums had gotten larger and larger. At first, it was the odd fifty or sixty bucks now and then. But recently, it was a regular three hundred every month. Michelle's parents promised to pay it back and Michelle covered for them. But he wasn't a fool. Ted and Eleanor weren't generating the kind of income to pay back their loans. They lived in a financial minefield of their own creation and this time they'd stepped on all the mines at once--taking out more than just themselves.

It was so unfair. After five years of marriage, he and Michelle had just gotten themselves straight. The mortgage payments were manageable at last. The credit cards and student loans were paid off. The new Honda had been bought with cash. They'd limped along for years with the old Corolla while they'd saved because they didn't want another loan on their credit report. All this had been achieved through careful money management and sacrifice. He was so proud. They'd come so far. They were just starting to live the life they'd promised themselves when they got engaged.

That was what made his in-laws' screw-ups so much more galling. Twice Richard's age, Ted and Eleanor treated money with the mentality of teenagers. Only a couple of years from retirement, they had nothing to show for their lives. Their crummy, two-bedroom hovel was rented. The car was leased. Pensions and life insurance had been cashed in years ago. Retirement wasn't an option for either of them. They would have to work until they died.

Damn the American dream, Richard thought. That was the cause of Ted and Eleanor's monetary nightmares. They had to show everyone they were keeping up with the Joneses. They'd spent a lifetime trying to project the superficial image that they were at top of their game, except their lifestyle was built on credit.

He was thankful Ted and Eleanor hadn't passed on their trait to Michelle, although there had been problems when they'd gotten married. She'd run up a string of college loans because her parents were unable to support her. Only that January had he and Michelle cleared the last of her college debts. But the nail in her credit report's coffin was the credit card she'd underwritten for her parents when no self-respecting bank would issue them one. They'd maxed it out in months, with the promise they would pay it off. They never had.

"They are going to be evicted in two weeks. Do you want them to live on the streets?" Michelle demanded, close to tears.

"They're adults. It's not my problem, is it?"