I gently smoothed down the navy blue dress I’d picked out, brushing away imaginary creases. It was the kind of outfit I’d always worn for family dinners — understated enough that Marissa wouldn’t roll her eyes, but still neat and respectable.
At 77, fashion trends no longer interested me, but I still liked to present myself properly. Dinner was set for 7 p.m., and I still had an hour.
Around me, the living room stood like a museum of memories. A framed photo of James and me at our golden anniversary. Young Garrett proudly holding his first fish. Graduation portraits of Toby and Rebecca. Each image a silent witness to days that once felt easier. My eyes settled on James’ picture.
What would he tell me if he were here? It’s been fifteen years since he passed, yet I still find myself seeking his advice in moments like this. He’d probably say, “Edith, don’t let this hurt you.” James had always been good at keeping emotional distance when needed — even from our own son.
I, however, never learned that skill. The buzz of my phone interrupted my thoughts. A text from Garrett.
I smiled faintly and reached for my glasses, expecting details about tonight. Maybe he was checking if I needed a ride to their new place — though he hadn’t offered to help with that in a long time. The message read:
Mom, sorry. We can’t do dinner tonight. Marissa is having her co-workers over. We’ll reschedule.
I stared at it, confused. Just yesterday, Garrett had called, excitedly insisting I come — he had said there would be an important announcement. I read the message again, and then, the phone buzzed once more.
You weren’t invited to dinner. My wife doesn’t want you there.
My hands trembled. It felt like ice had wrapped itself around my chest. That couldn’t be from Garrett… but it was. His name, his number.
I slowly sank into the armchair, gripping the phone as though it were the last thing tethering me to reality. In my mind, images of Garrett as a child swirled: clinging to my skirt on his first day of school, blushing while asking about girls, smiling as he introduced Marissa for the first time.
And now this — a cold, distant message that cut deeper than I thought words could. Was this sudden? Or just the first time they’d let the truth slip through? How often had they talked about me behind closed doors? How many past invitations had been out of duty, not love?
My gaze landed on a glossy brochure lying on the table — River Ridge Estates, their new home. A luxurious townhouse near the river, with its own dock. A house I’d paid $120,000 toward just six months earlier.
It’s a long-term investment, Mom, Garrett had explained. A space for the whole family. We’ll have a special corner for you too.
I laughed bitterly. That “corner” had just been erased. I remembered being at the bank with Garrett. The branch manager had eyed me with thinly veiled surprise.
Are you sure, Mrs. Wembley? This is a large amount.
I had nodded. I was sure. James had left enough behind to allow me to help our son. It had felt like the right thing.
There were other contributions, too. Garrett’s new car — for the kids’ safety, he’d said. Toby’s private school — he has special learning needs, Marissa had insisted. A modern kitchen — she works hard, she deserves it. Each time I had written a check, it had felt like love, like purpose.
But what had I received in return? Occasional, polite phone calls. Obligatory holiday visits. And now this message — exclusion in the most direct form.
I stood and walked slowly toward the secretary desk I’d inherited from my mother. I opened the top right drawer — where I stored all my financial paperwork. Receipts, statements, documents neatly sorted in labeled folders. The thickest one bore Garrett’s name.
I opened it and began flipping through the records. A $20,000 check for a business venture Garrett had walked away from within months. Proof of payment for Marissa’s courses. Home repairs. Insurance for Toby’s car.
So many ways I’d given, supported, sacrificed — and for what? To be shut out of the very house I’d helped them buy?
The phone buzzed again. I jumped, bracing for another blow — but this time, it was Rebecca.
Grandma, are you still coming today? I miss you.
I hovered over the screen. Rebecca — always kind, always genuine. Even when her parents had grown distant, she still made time. She remembered me.
I typed slowly. Honey, it looks like your parents have decided it’s best for me to stay home. I sent it.
A few seconds later came the reply. What? Why? Daddy said yesterday that you absolutely had to be. So Rebecca didn’t know.
I imagined her now standing somewhere in that new house perplexed. The house I’d paid for. My gaze fell back to the file folder.
All these years I thought I was buying my family’s love and respect. But as it turned out, I was only renting their time and attention, and the lease seemed to have expired. I picked up my cell phone and dialed my bank’s number.
After a few beeps, a polite female voice answered. Good evening, Fayetteville Community Bank. How may I help you? Good evening.
My name is Edith Wembley. I’d like to consult about some regular payments from my account. Of course, Mrs. Wembley.
I will need to ask a few questions to confirm your identity. As she listed her questions and I patiently answered, a plan formed in my mind. Clear, ruthless, fair.
Thank you for the confirmation, Mrs. Wembley. What exactly can I do for you? I’d like to cancel all automatic payments and transfers from all my accounts. Every single one.
There was a brief pause. All payments, Mrs. Wembley? You have quite a few. Yes, all of them.
And I also need to revoke the power of attorney I gave to my son, Garrett Wembley. I see. I could hear the slight confusion in her voice.
This is a major change, Mrs. Wembley. Perhaps you should come down to the bank branch for a more detailed… I’ll come down tomorrow morning and sign the necessary documents, I interrupted. But I need the process to start today.
Is that possible? Another pause. Yes, we can temporarily suspend all payments until your visit, but we’ll need your signature for a full reversal. Oh, that’s great.
Suspend everything right now. While she typed something on her computer, I looked at James’s picture. You were right, honey, I thought.
You can’t let people sit on your neck, even if they are your own children. Ready, Mrs. Wembley. Temporary suspension activated.
You have a total of… She paused. 174 regular payments and transfers, all of which are blocked until your visit to the branch. 174.
I had no idea there were so many. 174 ways I’ve supported my son and his family. Thank you.
I’ll be there tomorrow when it opens. I hung up the phone and felt a strange sense of relief. It was as if the heavy backpack I’d been carrying for years had suddenly been lifted off my shoulders.
The phone vibrated again. Garrett! Rebecca must have said something to him. I didn’t bother answering it.
Instead, I wrote a short message. Then pay your own way, freeloaders! My finger froze over the send button. Was I ready to turn the page? To destroy the fragile piece that I had supported for so long with my money and patience? But hadn’t they been the first to destroy it by denying me even basic respect? Hadn’t they decided I was no longer needed? Not even in the house I’d paid for? I pressed send, and then turned the phone off.
In the quiet of my living room, I suddenly felt a strange calm. For the first time in years, I had done something not for my son or his family, but for me. And it was… liberating.
I walked over to the closet and pulled out an old photo album. As I flipped through the pages of my life—my wedding to James, Garrett’s birth, family vacations, vacations—I realized that somewhere along the way I’d lost myself, melted into the needs of others, forgetting my own desires and dignity. James always said, «‘Edith, don’t let anyone take you for granted.’» Even on his deathbed, he made me promise to take care of myself as I took care of others.
I haven’t kept that promise. Until today. I closed the album and put it back on the shelf.
Then I took off the dress I’d made for dinner and changed into my house dress. I made tea and pulled out a book I’d been meaning to read for a long time, but kept putting it off because of the endless requests and obligations to my family. Tomorrow would be a new day.
A day when I will start a new chapter of my life, without the financial shackles that bind me to people who don’t value my help or myself. 174 receipts. 174 reasons to move on.
I took a sip of tea and opened the book, savoring the silence and freedom of choice. My phone stayed off and my heart, for the first time in a long time, beat steady and calm. The Fayetteville Community Bank opened at nine in the morning, but I got there twenty minutes before it opened.
The night was surprisingly peaceful, the first time I’d slept without sleeping pills in a long time. Determination gave me strength. When the bank doors opened, I was the first customer.
The young woman behind the counter smiled welcomingly at me. Good morning, can I help you? I need to see Mrs. Howard, I replied. Linda Howard had worked at the bank for almost thirty years, and she was the person James and I always went to.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in Linda’s office. She hadn’t changed much over the years, the same neat gray hair, the same attentive eyes behind her thin-rimmed glasses. Edith, it’s good to see you, she shook my hand.
I was informed about the call yesterday. All 174 payments have been suspended as you requested. Is something wrong? I looked her straight in the eye.
I want to cancel them all, forever, and cut off Garrett’s access to my accounts. Linda took off her glasses and wiped them with a tissue, a gesture I’d noticed when she was thinking about something important. Edith, we’ve known each other for years, are you sure? It’s a rather radical decision.
I’m absolutely sure. She nodded and started typing something on the computer. That’s good, I’ll prepare all the necessary documents.
It will take some time, you do have a lot of automatic payments. While the system was generating the documents, Linda pulled out a thick folder. Here are printouts of all your regular transactions for the last year.
It might be helpful for you to look through them so you don’t miss anything. I opened the folder. Pages and pages of statements.
Each line is money going out of my pocket and into my family’s pocket. The first receipt is the monthly mortgage payment for Garrett and Marissa’s new house, $3,800. I remembered the day Garrett had brought me to see this house.
Mom, this is the perfect place for our family. And for you, there’s a guest room with a private bath on the first floor, you won’t have to climb the stairs. A guest room I’ve never slept in, which they won’t let me in now.
The next receipt is the insurance on Marissa’s car, a premium SUV that she said was necessary to work with high-level clients, $850 quarterly. I kept leafing through. Payment for a membership to the country club where Marissa was making business connections.
Bills for a private dental clinic because Toby has a special bite and needs a specialist. Rebecca’s college tuition, the only money I didn’t regret. Each receipt brought back memories of the conversation, the request, sometimes even the tears.
Mom, we’re so tight on funds right now. Grandmother, this is the latest model. Without it, I’ll be a white crow.
Edith, you don’t want your grandson to suffer from complexes, do you? Receipt after receipt, page after page, traveling a map of my naivety and their greed. Here’s the paperwork to cancel all payments. Linda’s voice brought me back to reality.
And the power of attorney revocation form. Please read it carefully and sign it if you agree. I took the pen and signed without hesitation.
Edith, Linda lowered her voice. If you need any help, any advice. It’s all right, Linda.
I smiled. For the first time in a long time, everything was really OK. Walking out of the bank, I felt lighter, like I had shed an invisible weight that had been dragging me down for years.
My next stop was my lawyer’s office. Francis Whitaker had been working with our family since James was alive. His graying beard had grown longer and his glasses thicker, but the sly gleam in his eyes remained the same.
Mrs. Wembley, what a pleasant surprise. He pointed to my chair. What can I do for you? I want to change my will.
I said calmly and confidently and set up a lifetime trust to protect my assets. Francis raised an eyebrow. May I ask what prompted this decision? Family circumstances have changed.
I didn’t want to go into details. I need to know how I can legally and safely manage my finances without interference from my son or his family. He nodded without asking any more questions.
There are several options. Let’s discuss each of them. We spent the next hour talking about irrevocable trusts, financial power of attorney, and contingent provisions in a will.
Francis took notes and explained the legal intricacies. I felt strangely free to make these decisions. When we finished, my phone had 15 missed calls from Garrett, seven from Marissa, and three from Toby.
None from Rebecca. Should I have the paperwork ready by the end of the week, Francis asked as he walked me to the door. The sooner the better, I replied.
And, Francis, thank you. He nodded understandingly. You know, Edith, James always said you were stronger than you looked.
I’m glad to see he was right. I walked out of the office with a slight smile. James, he always saw right through me.
On the way home, I stopped at the supermarket. For the first time in a long time, I bought groceries just for myself, not thinking about Garrett’s preferences or Toby’s favorite snacks. It was a strange but pleasant feeling to think only of my own desires.
There was a surprise waiting for me at home. Rebecca was sitting on the porch with her arms wrapped around her knees. She jumped up when she saw my car.
Grandma! She rushed over to me, helping me with the bags. I’ve been calling all day. Why didn’t you answer? I looked at my granddaughter carefully.
Rebecca looked so much like me when I was young. The same brown hair, the same stubborn wrinkles between her eyebrows when she worried. I’ve had a busy day, dear.
I opened the door. Come in and tell me what happened. We went into the kitchen.
Rebecca sat at the table, tapping her fingers nervously on the countertop while I sorted through the groceries. Grandma, what’s going on? Dad’s in a panic. He says you’ve blocked all payments and won’t answer your phone.
I calmly took out the kettle. It’s true. I’ve decided to cut off your family’s financial support.
But why? I could hear the genuine bewilderment in her voice. Did something happen? I poured water into the kettle and put it on the stove before answering. Your father canceled my invitation to the family dinner last night, said your mother didn’t want me there.
Rebecca turned pale. What? No way. Dad’s been saying all week how important it was that you come.
I have a message. I pulled out my phone and showed her. Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand as she read.
Oh, my God. I didn’t know. I swear.
Her eyes filled with tears. It’s awful, Grandma. I don’t understand how he could.
I put a cup of tea in front of her. That was the last straw, Rebecca. For years, I’ve paid for everything from your house to Toby’s tennis lessons.
And all that time, I felt like I was being used. Yesterday, I got confirmation. Rebecca was silent, staring into her cup.
Then she looked up at me. You know, I’ve always seen it, how they, uh, you know, take advantage of your kindness, especially Mom. I tried to talk to Dad, but he always defended her.
I nodded. Deep down, I always knew Rebecca understood more than she showed. What’s going to happen now? She asked quietly.
I mean, they have a lot of payments to make loans. They’ll have to manage on their own. I shrugged.
They’re adults with good jobs. Garrett’s a building inspector. Your mother’s a successful realtor.
They’ll be fine. The phone on the desk rang again. Garrett, I muted it.
Aren’t you going to answer it? Rebecca asked. Not today. I shook my head.
I needed time to collect my thoughts, and he needed time to realize the consequences of what he’d said. Rebecca looked at me thoughtfully. You know, Grandma, I’ve never seen you so… determined.
I smiled weakly. I hadn’t seen myself like that for a long time. We finished our tea in cozy silence.
When Rebecca was about to leave, she hugged me tighter than usual. Are you okay? Sure you don’t want me to stay? I’m perfectly fine, dear. I stroked her cheek.
Go on and don’t worry about me. She nodded but stopped at the door. I’m not taking sides in this conflict, Grandma.
You understand that, don’t you? Of course I do. I smiled. This is between me and your parents.
It has nothing to do with you. After Rebecca left, the house fell silent again. I checked the mail.
There was a notice of a failed charge on Toby’s credit card. That fast? Apparently my grandson was living up to his credit limit. I set the letter aside and sat in the chair by the window.
My phone kept vibrating with incoming messages and calls, but I paid no attention to it. Instead, I pulled out an old photo album and opened it to a random page. A picture from 20 years ago.
Me and James, young Garrett and Marissa, and little Toby and Rebecca on a picnic. Everyone is smiling. When did things change? When did support become an obligation? When did love change to an expectation of financial assistance? I closed the album and walked over to the hallway mirror.
The woman looking back at me from there looked tired, but there was something new in her eyes, a determination I hadn’t seen in years. Time to remember who you are, Edith Wembley, I said to my reflection. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted my thoughts.
My heart jumped. Is it Garrett? I went to the door and peered through the peephole. Laurene Campbell, an old friend of mine, stood on the doorstep with a basket in her hands.
Edith! She hugged me as soon as I opened the door. I called, but you didn’t answer. I thought I’d drop by, make sure you were okay.
Come in, Laurene. I let her in. I’m sorry, I turned my phone off.
Just a little family emergency. Laurene set the basket on the table, homemade cookies and a jar of jam. Family problems? She looked at me carefully.
Marissa again? Laurene had never hidden her opinion of my sister-in-law. Predator, she called her. Garrett this time.
I briefly recounted yesterday’s message and my decision. Laurene listened without interrupting. When I finished, she took my hand.
At last, she exclaimed, so relieved that I couldn’t help smiling. I’m sorry, Edith, but I’ve watched them take advantage of you for years. How many times I wanted to say enough.
But it was none of my business. I know, I sighed. You were right all along.
I just didn’t want to see. So what now? Laurene asked, pouring us tea. Garrett must be panicking by now.
Let him panic, I shrugged. I need time to sort out my feelings, and them to realize what they’d lost. We talked with Laurene through the evening.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like a mother or a grandmother, but just a woman talking to a friend. It was… liberating. By the time Laurene left, it was getting dark.
I decided to finally check my phone. 37 missed calls. 23 messages.
I started going through them, wrinkling my nose at the tone that was becoming more and more desperate and demanding. Mom, what’s going on? Why isn’t the mortgage payment going through? Edith, it’s Marissa. We need to talk.
It’s urgent. Grandma, my card’s been blocked. I’m stuck in town with no money.
The last text from Garrett came just 10 minutes ago. Mom, I’m on my way to see you. We need to talk.
I felt my muscles tense up. Was I ready for this conversation? But there didn’t seem to be a choice. I turned off the light in the living room and walked to the kitchen, put the kettle on.
I took out my best cup, the one I only drank from on special occasions. Today was a special occasion. The day Edith Wembley finally said no.
I heard the sound of a car pulling up and looked out the window. Garrett, alone without Marissa. That was unusual.
She usually had control of all the important conversations. The doorbell rang like the signal for the fight to begin. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and went to open the door.
Garrett stood on the doorstep, unaccustomed to being disheveled. His usually neat shirt was wrinkled, and his eyes were a mixture of irritation and panic. I silently stepped aside to let him in.
Mom, what’s going on? He didn’t waste time with greetings. All the payments have been rejected. The bank says you’ve revoked all the authorizations.
We can’t pay the mortgage. I went into the kitchen where the kettle was already boiling. Do you want tea? I asked calmly, taking out a second cup.
What tea? Garrett shook his hands in despair. Do you realize what’s going on? The bank called about the late payment. Marissa is hysterical.
I poured boiling water into the teapot and turned to my son. I understand. I have cancelled all financial obligations to your family.
All 174 payments. I have no intention of resuming them. Garrett froze, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
What? Why? He slumped back in his chair, keeping his eyes on me. Is this some kind of joke? You weren’t invited to dinner. My wife doesn’t want you there.
I quoted his message, watching his expression change. That was a message from you, Garrett, not a joke. And my response wasn’t a joke either.
He went pale and lowered his head. This? It’s not what you think, he started. But I interrupted him.
What am I supposed to think? That my own son kicked me out of the door of the house I paid for? That my daughter-in-law doesn’t want me at their table even though I fund their lifestyle? I put a cup of tea in front of him, but he didn’t even look at it. Mom, it was stupid, I admit it. I shouldn’t have written it.
Marissa was upset and I… And you decided to make her happy by insulting your mother, I finished for him. That’s very sweet, Garrett. Mom, please, he said, a pleading tone in his voice.
We can’t do this without your help. We have a mortgage, loans. Toby has to pay for college.
I took a sip of my tea, feeling the anger inside that I hadn’t let come out in years. Didn’t you think about that when you denied me even basic respect? When Marissa criticized my clothes? When Toby missed my birthdays? When you didn’t call me on the anniversary of my father’s death? Garrett looked ashamed, but I saw a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He was always a bad actor.
Mom, we appreciate everything you do for us, we do. It’s just that sometimes… He hesitated, searching for words. Sometimes there are misunderstandings.
We all love you, even Marissa, even though she doesn’t always show it. I looked at my son, a grown man, a father of two, who now looked like a little boy caught stealing cookies. Garrett, I don’t believe you, I said quietly.
I don’t believe you love me. You love my money, my help, my willingness to solve your problems. But you don’t love me.
That’s not true. He jumped up from his chair. How can you say that? Because it’s true.
I remained seated, keeping my composure. When was the last time you asked me how I was feeling? Inquired about my life? Invited me over for no reason? Not when you needed money or help with the kids? Garrett opened his mouth but couldn’t find anything to say. I continued.
Your father always said you can’t buy love. I didn’t listen. I thought if I was generous enough, helpful enough, you’d appreciate me.
I was wrong. Mom, Garrett took a step toward me. I understand you’re upset.
Why don’t you let Marissa and I come over this weekend, talk things over calmly? No, I shook my head. I don’t need to. My decision is final.
But how are we going to pay for the house? I could hear the panic in his voice. The cars? Toby’s tuition? You have a good job, Garrett. So does Marissa.
You’re adults. You can handle it. He clenched his fists and I saw the irritation on his face change to anger.
You can’t do this to us! His voice rose. After everything we… After everything you… What? I stood up too. What have you done for me, Garrett? Name one thing you’ve done for me unselfishly, expecting nothing in return.
He was silent again and I could see him frantically going over the events of the last few years, trying to find an example. His silence was more eloquent than any words. You see, I sighed.
You can’t even think of one example. It’s not fair. He took a step back.
You’re embarrassing me. Awkward? I grinned. What kind of embarrassment did you put me in by turning down a house and a family dinner? Garrett ran his hand through his hair.
A gesture I remembered from his teenage years when he was nervous. It was a mistake, Mom. I’ve already apologized.
What do you want me to do? Get on my knees? I want you to leave, I replied. I need time to think things over. When I’m ready to talk, I’ll let you know.
But Mom… Go away, Garrett. My voice was quiet but firm. Please.
He stared at me for a few seconds as if he couldn’t believe I was actually kicking him out the door. Then he silently turned and walked out of the kitchen. I heard the front door slam and then the roar of his car’s engine pulling away from the house.
Only when the sound died down completely did I let myself sit up and exhale. My hands were shaking. Confronting my son was harder than I’d expected.
Part of me, the old familiar part of me wanted to run after him, to tell him I’d give it all back just so he wouldn’t be angry. But I didn’t. Instead, I finished the cooled tea and started washing the dishes.
I needed to keep my hands busy to calm my mind. The phone rang. Marissa.
I rejected the call. A minute later, a message came through. Edith, we need to talk.
Garrett told me about your conversation. I think there’s been a terrible misunderstanding. Let’s talk things out like adults.
I grinned. Like adults. Marissa always loved that phrase, especially when she wanted to show her superiority.
I didn’t respond. The next morning began with a visit from Francis Whitaker, my attorney. He brought the papers to sign.
A new will and trust deed. It’s all ready, Edith. He laid the papers out on the table.
As we discussed, the bulk of the estate goes into an irrevocable trust with you as the sole beneficiary during your lifetime. Upon your death, the assets are distributed according to your instructions. 40% to Rebecca, 10% to a library support charity, and the rest to your discretion.
I went through the documents carefully. Garrett and Toby received the minimum shares required by law. Marissa received nothing.
That’s right, I nodded and signed each sheet. Francis watched me with a slight smile. You know, Edith, in 30 years of practice, I’ve rarely seen such drastic changes in wills.
Usually people hesitate, doubt. I’ve hesitated enough already, Francis. I signed the last one.
For years. He nodded and gathered the papers. I’ll file them today.
I’ll send you copies within the week. And, Edith? He paused. If you need legal help with any possible conflicts with the family, I’m always at your service.
After Francis left, I decided to take a walk. It was a clear day and the fresh air helped clear my mind. I headed toward the park where James and I often went on weekends.
Taking a seat on a bench, I watched the children and their parents playing. A young woman with a little boy caught my eye. She was patiently helping him build a sandcastle, laughing with him as the structure collapsed.
I remembered doing the same thing with Garrett years ago. Where and when had we lost that simple joy of being with each other? My thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. Toby’s number.
I hesitated but decided to answer it. Grandma? His voice sounded tense. Is it true? Did you cancel all the payments? Hello, Toby.
I tried to speak calmly. Yes, it’s true. But why? He sounded genuinely puzzled.
What happened? Your father didn’t explain? He said something about a misunderstanding. About you being offended by some message. Toby said quickly.
Grandma, my credit card’s been blocked. I can’t pay the rent. I sighed.
Toby was always straightforward. Straight to the heart of the problem. How it affected him personally.
Toby, you’re 23 years old. You work for an insurance company. Why are you still dependent on my money? Yeah.
He hesitated. You’ve always been there for me. I’m used to… Exactly.
I interrupted him. You’re all used to it. You took my help for granted.
Never wondered how I felt when your father wrote to tell me I was unwelcome in the house I was paying for. There was silence on the other end of the line. Did Dad really write that? Toby finally asked, and I could hear a note of disbelief in his voice.
Yes, I did. I didn’t soften the blow. And that was the last straw, Toby.
For years, I supported your family. Paid for your house, your cars, your education, even your tennis club. And what did I get in return? Disrespect, neglect, and formal visits on holidays.
Grandma, I… He stammered again. I didn’t know you felt that way. Because none of you ever asked, I said without anger, simply stating a fact.
You took and took without thinking about how I felt. Silence again, then a quiet question. So what now? Now you have to deal with it on your own, I said calmly.
Like all adults do. But Grandma… I have to go, Toby, I interrupted him. Think about what I said, and how you’ve all treated me over the years.
I ended the call and just sat for a while, watching the park. Talking to Toby had left a strange feeling. A mixture of sadness and relief.
Sadness at realizing how shallow our relationship had been. Relief that I’d finally told the truth. I spent the evening reading a book I’d been putting off for a while.
Before I went to bed, I checked my phone. A few more missed calls from Garrett and Marissa. A message from Rebecca.
Grandma, our house is in chaos. My parents are fighting. Toby is in a panic about money.
Are you okay? Can I come over tomorrow? I replied. Yes, dear, I’d love to see you. I’m perfectly fine.
The morning brought an unexpected surprise. Marissa was standing on the doorstep. Impeccably dressed, with perfect styling and a strained smile.
In her hands was a box of cakes from an expensive pastry shop. Edith, good morning. She handed me the box.
May I come in? We need to talk. I let her in silently, wondering what strategy she’d chosen. Marissa walked into the living room, giving me the usual appraising look that always made my hands go cold.
Edith. She sat on the edge of the couch, her hands folded in her lap. I think there’s been a terrible misunderstanding.
Really? I sat down across from her without offering her tea or coffee. Garrett shouldn’t have sent that message. She shook her head with a look of genuine regret on her face.
It was an emotional reaction. We were stressed about work, planning dinner. Marissa, I interrupted her.
Let’s not waste time. You’re not here to apologize. You’re here for the money.
Her smile faltered for a moment but quickly returned. Edith, it’s not fair. I’m truly sorry for what happened.
We all appreciate your help and support. You are an important part of our family. So important that you didn’t want me at your table? I asked calmly without anger.
Marissa sighed as if explaining something to an uncomprehending child. That night was special. We had important guests, potential clients.
I wanted everything to go perfectly. You know how important this is to my career. And I would ruin it? I raised an eyebrow.
With what exactly? With my old-fashioned clothes? Inappropriate comments? That’s not what I meant. She pursed her lips. Edith, let’s be honest.
You and I have always had complicated relationship. But that’s no reason to destroy the whole family. Garrett’s desperate.
Toby can’t pay his bills. We’re in danger of losing the house. The house I paid for.
I reminded him. Which you helped pay for. She corrected me.
We put up a lot of money too. I looked at this woman beautiful, confident, used to getting what she wanted. She’d been part of my family for 25 years.
But I’d never felt a real connection to her. Marissa. I leaned forward.
I will no longer finance your life. Not the house. Not the cars.
Not Toby’s education. Nothing. This is my final decision.
Her face changed. The mask of friendliness fell away. Revealing the cold calculation I’d always sensed beneath her smiles.
You can’t do this to us. Her voice hardened. After all we’ve done for you.
What exactly have you done for me, Marissa? I asked with genuine curiosity. We, she stammered. Clearly unprepared for such a question.
We included you in our family. Allowed you to be a part of your grandchildren’s lives. Took care of you.
Taken care of? I couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. When was the last time you asked me how I was feeling? When you called just to talk. Not to ask for money? Marissa stood up.
Her face pale with anger. You’re going to regret this, Edith. We’re the only family you have.
Who will take care of you when you are too old to live on your own? I’ll take care of myself. I stood up too. Just like I did all my life before I started spending all my energy and money on your family.
She headed for the door but stopped on the threshold. This isn’t over, Edith. Garrett won’t leave it alone.
You’re his mother. He has rights. Rights to what, Marissa? My money? I shook my head.
Go away. And don’t come back until you learn some basic respect. After Marissa left I felt strangely empty.
It was as if the final scene of a long play had been played, the curtain had fallen, and the actors had dispersed. I went to the window. The day was clear, sunny.
Life went on. Neighbors worked in the garden. Children rode their bikes.
The letter carrier delivered letters. My gaze fell on the kitchen table where a stack of unpaid bills lay. Before, I would have tackled them immediately for fear of missing the deadline and letting my family down.
Now I could pay them whenever I wanted. I could go to the store and buy myself a new dress without worrying if I had enough money to pay for Toby’s tennis club. I could take that art class I’d been wanting to take for ages.
For the first time in years, I was truly free. Free from obligation. Free from guilt.
Free from the constant need to sacrifice my own desires for the sake of others. I picked up my cell phone and dialed Laurene’s number. Remember you were talking about going to the mountains next month? I asked when she answered.
I’d like to join you if the invitation still stands. Edith. I could hear the joyful surprise in her voice.
Of course, we’d be delighted. But I thought you wouldn’t be able to because of… I can now, I smiled. I no longer had any obligations holding me back.
After talking to Laurene, I pulled out an old notebook and started making a list. A list of things to do, places to go. Things that I dreamed of doing but always put off for later.
Because there were more important things. Garrett’s needs. Marissa’s wants.
Toby’s whims. Now it was my time. Edith Wembley’s time.
And I was going to make the most of it. The phone rang again. Garrett.
I firmly rejected the call. I had more important things to do today. It had been a surprisingly quiet two weeks.
I’d expected Garrett and Marissa to try to change my mind. But after my sister-in-law’s visit, there was a strange silence. They never called again.
Never came by unannounced. Only Rebecca stopped by a couple times. But she and I had tacitly agreed not to discuss the family drama.
Tuesday morning greeted me with bright sunshine. I sipped my coffee leisurely on the veranda, browsing through the catalogue of a travel company. A trip to the mountains with Laurene was scheduled for next month.
But why not plan something else? I’d only seen Europe in pictures and movies. James had always dreamed of showing me Italy. The home of his ancestors.
We’d been saving that trip for retirement. But when it came, his health no longer allowed for traveling. I flipped through pages of photos of Rome, Florence, Venice, imagining myself there with a camera, in comfortable shoes, without having to rush home to help with the grandchildren or solve Garrett’s next financial problem.
The doorbell interrupted my reverie. Laurene stood on the doorstep with a large wicker basket. Good morning, traveler.
She smiled as she entered the house. I brought croissants from the new French bakery and fresh gossip. I laughed as I let her into the house.
What better way to spend a Tuesday? We settled on the veranda. Laurene poured the coffee she’d brought in a thermos and pulled out the croissants that were still warm. So, she took a bite of the pastry.
How’s your new free life going? Unaccustomed, I admitted. Sometimes I wake up feeling like I’ve forgotten something important. And then I remember that the only person I have to take care of is myself.
Laurene nodded understandingly. That’s normal. You’ve been living someone else’s needs for too long.
Your body isn’t used to the lack of stress yet. She was quiet for a moment, then added in a more serious tone. I saw Marissa at the supermarket yesterday.
She was buying canned goods and pasta-no-delicacies that she was so used to. I raised an eyebrow. Really? What did she look like? Not as flawless as usual, Laurene shrugged.
Her hair was a little disheveled, her clothes planer. She didn’t notice me, and I didn’t say hello. I tried to imagine Marissa without her usual gloss, a difficult task.
My sister-in-law always looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. I guess they do have to tighten their belts, I said thoughtfully. And rightfully so, Laurene exclaimed with sudden passion.
Edith, I’ve watched them take advantage of you for years, especially Marissa. That woman has never appreciated your generosity or your patience. I sighed.
I know, it’s just… It’s strange to think that they might be struggling financially. Garrett’s never been good at saving money. It’s time he learned, Laurene cut him off.
At his age, he should be standing on his own two feet, not clinging to his mother’s skirt. I couldn’t help but smile at my friend’s bluntness. Laurene always said what she thought without trying to soften the blow.
I guess that’s why we’d been friends for so many years. She was a breath of fresh air in the midst of all the falseness. Speaking of new life, Laurene nodded at the catalog on the table.
What are you studying? I’m thinking about going to Italy, I slid the catalog over to her. James has always wanted to show me Rome. Laurene glowed.
That’s a great idea! When are you thinking of going? Maybe in the fall? I shrugged. I still have to plan and prepare. Why not sooner? Laurene flipped through the pages of the catalog.
June is the perfect time for Italy. It’s not too hot yet, but it’s warm enough for walking, I wondered. What was holding me back? Before, there had always been reasons to postpone, to help with the kids, to be on call in case of another Garrett crisis, to avoid spending money on myself when the family might need help.
Now those reasons were gone. You know you’re right, I smiled. Why not? I’ll call the agency today.
Laurene nodded contentedly. Now that’s the right decision. And you know what? If you want some company, I could come with you.
Italy has been on my wish list for a long time. We spent the rest of the morning discussing possible itineraries and sites we’d like to see. For the first time in a long time, I felt really excited, anticipating something new and exciting.
When Laurene left, I immediately called the travel agency and booked a consultation for the next day. Then I pulled out an old atlas James had given me years ago and began studying a map of Italy, imagining myself in those exotic places. The doorbell rang, interrupting my reverie.
I opened it and saw Toby disheveled in a crumpled shirt with dark circles under his eyes. Grandma, he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. May I come in? I stepped aside silently, letting him pass.
Toby walked into the living room and sat on the couch, rubbing his hands together nervously. Would you like some tea? I asked. No, thanks.
He shook his head. Grandma, I… I need help. I sat down across from him, keeping a calm expression on my face.
What kind of help, Toby? He took a deep breath as if about to dive into cold water. Money, Grandma, I need money. My card’s been blocked.
The bank’s demanding payment. I can’t pay my rent, my car… His voice is shaking. I’m totally screwed, pardon the expression.
I looked at my grandson, a grown man who now looked like a lost child. Toby had always been spoiled first by Garrett and Marissa, then by me. He’d never had to really fight for anything.
How much do you owe the bank? I asked calmly. Seven thousand. He lowered his eyes.
Eeeh. Gotten a little carried away with the credit cards the last few months. What did you spend that money on, Toby? He shrugged, not looking at me.
Various things. A new cell phone, a trip to the coast with some friends, a couple of parties. I was silent, waiting for him to continue.
Toby finally looked up. Grandma, I know I haven’t been very… attentive to you. I haven’t called much.
I haven’t visited much. But I really love you. And I’m really, really asking you to help me now.
I’ll pay you back. I promise. I looked at him carefully, trying to see the sincerity behind those words.
Toby always had a way of being charming when he needed something. A trait he’d inherited from Marissa. Toby? I finally spoke.
You’re 23 years old. You’ve been working for an insurance company for almost two years now. Why haven’t you learned how to handle your finances yet? He was embarrassed.
Yeah, I don’t know. I never really thought about it. I could always ask my parents, or you.
Exactly. I nodded. There was always someone to solve your problems, but Toby, you can’t go on like this forever.
Sooner or later, everyone has to learn to stand on their own two feet. I know, Grandma. He nodded enthusiastically.
And I will learn, I promise. Just help me this last time. I’ll get an extra job, save money.
I shook my head. No, Toby, I’m not giving you any money. His face stretched in surprise.
He clearly hadn’t expected a rejection. But Grandma? What am I supposed to do? What adults do when they find themselves in a difficult situation? I answered. Look for a solution.
Talk to the bank about restructuring your debt. Find an additional source of income. Cut back on expenses.
Toby looked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language. But, uh, it’s so complicated. Life is complicated.
I shrugged. Especially when you have to take responsibility for your actions. He jumped up and I could see the range of emotions on his face.
Mistrust. Resentment. Anger.
So you’re just leaving me? After all these years of telling me you love me? I love you, Toby. I remained calm. That’s why I refuse to continue supporting your addiction to my money.
That’s not love. That’s codependency. And it’s hurting you more than it’s helping you.
Bullshit! He was almost shouting. You’re just getting back at all of us because of some fight with Dad! I looked at my angry grandson and saw in him a reflection of Marissa. The same violent reaction to rejection.
The same inability to take no for an answer. Toby, please sit down. I said quietly but firmly.
To my surprise, he obeyed, flopping back onto the couch. I’m not taking revenge on anyone. I just stopped being an ATM for my family.
Stopped buying the love and respect that should be unconditional. I paused, giving him time to consider my words. Think about this.
When was the last time you came to me just for fun? Without asking for money or help? When you took an interest in my life? In my feelings? Toby was silent, avoiding my gaze. You can’t remember, can you? I sighed. That’s the problem, Toby.
Our relationship has long since become a transaction. I give money, you pretend to care about me. It’s not a family.
It’s a business arrangement. Not true. He shook his head, but without the same confidence.
We care about you. We do? I raised an eyebrow. Name me one thing you’ve done for me unselfishly in the last year.
Toby hesitated. His forehead furrowed with tension. I could see him trying to remember anything.
A call. A visit. A gift that didn’t involve a request or an obligation.
I came to your birthday party. He finally squeezed out. Yes, you did.
An hour later than everyone else without a present and left right after the cake saying he was meeting some friends. He lowered his head. I didn’t mean to.
I didn’t think. That’s right, Toby. You weren’t thinking.
Neither of you were thinking about my feelings. I softened my tone. I’m not mad at you.
I really am. I’m just not going to participate in this unhealthy relationship anymore. We sat in silence.
Toby looked depressed, hunched over on the couch. I suddenly saw him as the little boy I’d taught to ride his bike. Stubborn, but vulnerable.
Look. I lean toward him. I won’t give you money, but I can offer you something else.
He looked up. What? My friend Francis Whitaker, a lawyer, is looking for a part-time assistant. Nothing complicated.
Sorting documents, answering phones. It won’t solve all your problems, but it’ll be an extra source of income. If you want, I can talk to him.
Toby looked surprised. Would you? Would you do that for me? After everything I’ve said? You’re my grandson, Toby. I love you no matter what.
But my love will no longer be expressed in checks and credit cards. He was silent for a moment, considering my words. Then he nodded slowly.
Okay. Yeah. I’ll give it a try.
Thank you, Grandma. When Toby left, I felt a strange mixture of sadness and satisfaction. Maybe this conversation was the first step toward building a new, healthier relationship with my grandson.
Or maybe it was just another manipulation on his part. Time would tell. That same evening, Rebecca arrived.
Unlike her brother, she looked collected and calm. I met Toby on the way over, she said as she helped me make dinner. He was kind of quiet.
We talked about money and responsibility. I chopped vegetables for the salad. I wasn’t sure he took it well.
Rebecca nodded, stirring the dressing. It’s good for him to grow up a little. Toby’s always had it too easy.
I glanced at my granddaughter. She and Toby were yearlings, but so different. Rebecca was always more independent, more mature.
How are things at home, I asked cautiously. Rebecca sighed. Honestly, not great.
My parents fight all the time. Mom blames Dad for not being able to convince you to return the financing. Dad says she’s the one who ruined it with her snobbery.
I’m sorry you have to be at the center of this conflict. I put my hand on her shoulder. It’s okay, she smiled weakly.
I’d known for a long time that their relationship was… wasn’t very healthy. They were together mostly for status and comfort. When both of those things were threatened, she didn’t finish her sentence, but I understood.
Garrett and Marissa’s marriage had always struck me as an odd union. My soft, compliant son and his ambitious, overbearing wife. Now that the financial cushion is gone, all the cracks in their relationship have become obvious.
They’re selling Mom’s car. Rebecca continued, setting the table. The SUV you gave her the money for last year, and they’re looking to refinance the mortgage.
I nodded without commenting. Part of me felt a prick of conscience. I didn’t want my son to suffer, but the other part realized it was a necessary lesson.
You know, Grandma? Rebecca sat down at the table. I want you to know that I support your decision. I looked at her in surprise.
You do? Yes, she nodded. I’ve seen them use you for a long time. Use you.
Especially Mom. I tried to talk to Dad, but he always made excuses. I sat down next to her, unexpectedly touched by her words.
Thank you, Rebecca. It means a lot to me. I just want you to be happy.
She took my hand. You’ve taken care of all of us for so many years. It’s time to think about yourself.
We ate dinner, talking about her work, my plans to go to Italy, and the books we’d recently read. Just a normal conversation between two people who are interested in each other. No asking, no manipulation, no tension.
This is exactly what I think a family relationship should look like. When Rebecca was about to leave, she hugged me tighter than usual. You know I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what happens between you and your parents.
I know, honey. I stroked her cheek. And I’ll always be there for you.
Not because I have to, but because I want to. After Rebecca left, I sat in silence for a long time, thinking about the vicissitudes of family. How strange that of all my family, it was my granddaughter who was the most understanding, the most mature.
Maybe that was the point. To pass on not only genes and property, but also values, principles, the ability to truly love and care. The phone rang, interrupting my musings.
Garrett’s number. I hesitated, but decided to answer it. Yes, Garrett? Mom? His voice sounded strained.
We need to talk, tomorrow, as a family. About what? I asked calmly. About the situation we’re in.
About how we could fix it. I sighed. Garrett, I told you and Marissa, my decision is final.
Mom, please, he said, a pleading tone in his voice. At least hear us out. We’re ready to compromise.
I hesitated. Part of me didn’t want to continue this pointless circle of talk. But the other part, the wiser, calmer part knew that a complete break with my son wouldn’t make me happy.
Okay, Garrett. Two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. My place.
Thank you, Mom. The relief in his voice was almost palpable. We’ll be there.
All of us. I hung up the phone and went to the window. The evening sky was colored in shades of pink and gold.
I thought about tomorrow’s meeting. Another round of family negotiations. But this time it would be different.
I had new rules this time. I woke up early, even though the family meeting wasn’t scheduled until two in the afternoon. Despite my outward calmness, I could feel the tension.
Something told me that today’s conversation would be different from Garrett and Marissa’s previous attempts to influence my decision. To distract myself, I decided to garden. Working with the earth always calmed me.
Something peaceful about seeing your efforts turn into flowers and fruit. By noon, I had finished weeding and watering, showered and prepared a light lunch. Looking at the clock, I realized I still had plenty of time to gather my thoughts before my family arrived.
At exactly two o’clock, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath and went to open it. Garrett stood on the doorstep alone without Marissa and the kids.
Mom, he nodded, entering the house. The others will be here in a few minutes. I wanted to talk to you alone first.
I silently led him into the living room. Garrett looked tense. His usually neat shirt crumpled in dark circles under his eyes.
Mom, he sat down across from me. I want you to know that what’s going to happen tonight was not my idea, Marissa insisted. I raised an eyebrow.
And what’s going to happen, Garrett? He lowered his eyes. She… we… Marissa feels that we need to take decisive action for you to realize how your decision affects the whole family. I could feel the anxiety building inside me.
What kind of action? Garrett opened his mouth to answer, but then there was the sound of cars pulling up. Lots of cars. I went to the window and saw three cars pulling into the driveway of my house.
Marissa stepped out of the first one, perfectly dressed and combed, a look of determination on her face. Behind her, Toby and Rebecca. The other cars were filled with people I vaguely recognized.
I think Marissa’s parents, her sister and her husband, some family friends. Garrett, I turned to my son. What does this mean? He looked confused.
Marissa decided that a family meeting would be more effective if all interested parties were present. Stakeholders? I couldn’t believe my ears. Your wife brought a bunch of outsiders into my house to discuss our family conflict.
Before Garrett could answer, the doorbell rang with a demanding trill. I slowly went to open it, feeling the anger building inside of me. Cold, focused, determined.
Marissa stood on the doorstep with a strained smile. Edith, good afternoon. She spoke louder than usual, obviously to the audience behind her.
We are all here to discuss the situation at hand, as a family. I looked around at the assembled group, at least 10 people, all with expressions of awkwardness and curiosity on their faces. Marissa, I said quietly but firmly.
I didn’t invite all these people into my house. But this is family, Edith. She waved her hands in exaggerated surprise.
Isn’t a family supposed to support each other in times of need? I saw Rebecca standing off to the side, clearly embarrassed. Toby, on the other hand, stayed close to his mother, mimicking her confident posture. I’m my parents, Marissa pointed to an elderly couple.
My brother, Curtis, and his wife, my sister, Paige, and her husband. They’re all concerned about what’s going on. We’re all one big family, aren’t we? I looked her straight in the eye.
No, Marissa, we’re not. This is my house, and I decide who I invite into it. Right now, I’m only inviting you, Garrett and the kids.
The rest of you will have to leave. Marissa took a step forward, her smile strained. Edith, don’t be so inhospitable.
People have come a long way. On your initiative, not mine. I remained adamant.
Either they leave, or there will be no conversation at all. There was a tense pause. I could see Marissa thinking frantically, considering her options.
Finally, she turned to her relatives. I think we better continue this family conversation in private. Please wait in the cars or take a walk around the neighborhood.
We’ll be done soon. Marissa’s relatives shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, exchanging glances. Finally, her father, a tall man with a military bearing, nodded.
Of course, dear, we’ll be in the neighborhood. I watched in silence as they separated, then stepped aside, letting Marissa, Toby, and Rebecca into the house. When the door closed, I turned back to the family.
So, my voice sounded calm even though I was seething inside. Who’s gonna tell me what this circus is all about? Marissa was the first to break the silence. Edith, your decision to withdraw your financial support doesn’t just affect Garrett and me.
It affects our entire extended family. My parents were counting on us to help pay for their nursing home. Garrett’s brother needs support because he lost his job.
Garrett’s brother? I interrupted her, turning to my son. You mean Neil? The one I haven’t seen in five years because you forgot to invite him to family gatherings? Garrett looked confused, but Marissa continued. The bottom line, Edith, is that your selfish decision has created a domino effect.
Everyone suffers, including your grandchildren. Toby nodded, picking up the baton. Grandma, I can’t pay my rent.
I’m being evicted at the end of the month. You could move back in with your parents temporarily, I said. That’s the problem, Marissa exclaimed.
We can barely make ends meet on our own. The bank is threatening to foreclose on the house if we don’t make the payments by the end of the week. I looked over at Rebecca, who was standing quietly to the side.
What about you, Rebecca? Come to ask for money, too? She shook her head. No, Grandma. I’m here because I didn’t want them to speak for me.
I respect your decision. Marissa gave her daughter an annoyed look, but continued, turning to me. Edith, we’re ready to compromise.
We realize we’ve hurt you. Garrett shouldn’t have sent that message. It was a mistake that we’re all paying for.
This isn’t about the message, Marissa. I shook my head. The message was just the last straw.
It’s about years of neglect, disrespect, and use. Use? Marissa threw up her hands theatrically. We’re a family.
Families support each other. Interesting that you only bring up family values when it comes to money, I remarked calmly. Where was this family unity when I spent the holidays alone? When I was sick and none of you took the time to bring me medicine? When it was the anniversary of James’s death and none of you called? There was silence.
Garrett lowered his eyes. Toby shifted nervously from foot to foot. Only Marissa remained unfazed.
We’re all very busy, Edith. We have jobs, commitments. I’ve had work and commitments too, I interrupted her.
But I always found time and money for my family. Always putting your needs before my own. And how did you repay me for that? I looked at each of them in turn.
Garrett, when was the last time you asked me how I was feeling? Not to be polite, but because you were genuinely curious? My son was silent, not looking up. Toby, how many times have you come to me for nothing? Not when you needed money. My grandson licked his lips nervously, but didn’t answer either.
Marissa, I turned to my daughter-in-law. Name one thing you’ve done for me over the years? One gesture of care or respect? She opened her mouth but couldn’t find anything to say. You see, I sighed.
You can’t even think of any examples of a normal human relationship between us. Because there were none. There were only transactions I gave you took.
Marissa was the first to come to her senses. Edith, this is manipulation. You’re trying to make us feel guilty to distract us from the core of the problem.
And what is the crux of the problem, Marissa? I asked with genuine curiosity. It’s that you are destroying our family with your selfishness. She was almost shouting.
We could lose the house. Toby could lose his apartment. My parents will have to move into a state-run nursing home.
And it’s my responsibility to provide for all of you? I shook my head. Garrett is 54 years old. Toby is 23.
You’re a successful realtor. Why are you still dependent on my money? Because you’ve always helped! Garrett exclaimed, finally looking up. We’ve come to rely on you for support, Mom.
Exactly, I nodded. You used to. You thought it was your right, not my choice.
And when I decided to end this unhealthy dynamic, you didn’t think about why I did it, but rushed to demand everything go back to the way it was. I went to the window. There were still cars outside with Marissa’s relatives.
It was so in her nature to make a public spectacle of herself trying to shame me, to make me feel guilty. You know what the saddest part is? I turned to them. You still don’t understand what the problem is.
You think I’m just offended by the message. That it’s a whim that can be overcome with the right words or a show of family unity. I paused.
But that’s not the point. The point is that I finally saw the truth about our relationship, about how I wasn’t a mother, grandmother, or mother-in-law to you. I was an ATM, a source of funds.
And when that source dried up, you were suddenly reminded of family values. Marissa took a step toward me. Her face contorted with anger.
You ungrateful, selfish old woman, she hissed. After all we’ve done for you. What exactly have you done for me, Marissa? I asked calmly.
Tell everyone here. She was silent, her lips pressed into a thin line. Nothing, I answered for her.
You’ve done nothing for me. You tolerated my presence when it was necessary to get my money. You criticized my clothes, my house, my habits.
You turned Garrett and Toby against me. And now you’re surprised I don’t want to be a part of it anymore? I turned to Garrett. Son, I have loved you from the first day of your life.
And I will love you until the last day of mine. But I will no longer be a part of this toxic relationship. I will not finance your life.
I will not turn a blind eye to disrespect. Garrett looked lost. Mom, what do you want us to do? Do you want us to get down on our knees? Beg for forgiveness? No, Garrett.
I want you to grow up. Take responsibility for your own lives. Learn to respect not only me, but yourself.
Marissa snorted. That was a beautiful speech, Edith. Very moving.
Now let’s get back to reality. We need money. Now.
I looked at this woman. Beautiful, confident, used to getting what she wanted. And all I felt was tired.
No, Marissa, not now, not later, not ever. You can’t do this to us! She raised her voice. We’re your family.
Family isn’t just a common last name. I shook my head. It’s caring, respect, attention.
All the things I haven’t gotten from you in years. I turned to Toby and Rebecca. Kids, I love you both.
My door is always open to you, but not for asking for money. For real communication, if that’s what you want. Rebecca nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.
Toby lowered his head, avoiding my gaze. Now, I straightened. I’m going to ask you all to leave.
This conversation is over. Marissa stared at me in disbelief. You’re kicking us out? I’m asking you to leave.
I repeated. And take all of this support group you brought with you. Marissa grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
You’re going to regret this, Edith. When you’re all alone, you’ll remember this day. Garrett hesitated, glancing back and forth at his wife and me.
Mom. Garrett, go. I pushed him gently toward the door.
Think about everything I’ve said. And when you’re ready to have a real conversation, not about money, but about you and me, I’ll be here. He nodded and walked slowly toward the exit.
Toby followed him without saying a word. Only Rebecca lingered to give me a hug. I’ll call you tomorrow, Grandma, she whispered.
I’ll be waiting, dear. I stroked her cheek. When the door closed behind the last of them, I sank into the chair, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and relief.
There were excited voices coming from the courtyard. Marissa was probably telling her side of the story to the assembled relatives. I didn’t care.
I had said my last word. The phone rang. Laureen.
Edith, I just drove by your house and saw a whole delegation at the gate. What’s going on? It’s a long story, I sighed. Marissa had a family meeting.
Oh my God, Lauren hummed. How did it go? As well as could be expected. Lots of drama, little understanding.
Are you okay? Do you want me to come over? I’ve been thinking. Before I would have said no, not wanting to bother my friend with my problems. But now… Yes, Laureen, you should come.
I think I could use a friendly shoulder. I’ll be there in 20 minutes, she answered immediately. And I’ll bring that wine we tasted last time.
I smiled as I hung up the phone. Something told me that today, painful as it was, was a necessary step toward a new life. A life where I would come first.
Six months later, the Tuscan sun warmed my face as I sat on the terrace of a small restaurant, sipping a delicious local wine. Next to me, Laureen was passionately writing something in her travel journal. I can’t believe we’re really here, I said, looking at the picturesque hills covered with vineyards.
James would be so happy. He’d be proud of you. Laureen raised her glass.
To the new Edith! I smiled, clinking my glass with my friends. A lot had changed in those six months. Since that family meeting, Garrett and Marissa had made several more attempts to influence me, from threats of a lawsuit which quickly subsided after I consulted a lawyer, to Garrett’s surprise visit with a bouquet of flowers and an apology, which as it turned out, was again followed by a request for money.
I remained adamant. Gradually, their attempts became less and less frequent, and then stopped altogether. As I learned from Rebecca, they were forced to sell the house and move to a smaller apartment.
Marissa had taken on an extra job, and Garrett was finally starting to take the initiative in managing the family finances. Toby, to my surprise, accepted a job offer with Francis Whittaker and seemed to have found himself in the legal field. We saw each other a few times, awkward but gradually becoming more sincere meetings where there were no requests for money or recriminations.
Rebecca remained the only person in the family with whom I kept in regular communication. She called every week, stopped by to visit, and shared her news and plans. She was the one who insisted that I not put off the trip to Italy I had dreamed of for so long.
What are you thinking about? Laurene asked, interrupting my thoughts. About how much my life has changed in the past six months. I took another sip of wine.
Who would have thought that at seventy-seven I’d be starting over? Laurene laughed. You’ve always been stronger than you thought, Edith. You just finally let that strength show through.
I nodded, looking out at the setting sun coloring the hills in golden hues. Laurene was right. All my life I’d given my power to others’ husbands, son, his family.
It was only now, in my old age, that I’d finally found the courage to use it for myself. My phone vibrated a message from Rebecca with a picture of her new apartment. Grandma, I can’t wait for you to come back and see everything with your own eyes.
I hope Italy is beautiful. I smiled as I replied to the message and attached a shot of the Tuscan landscape. This bond with my granddaughter was precious.
The only family thread I’d kept because it was based on true affection. Not financial dependence. In the evening, back at our cozy hotel, I settled with a book on the balcony.
In the next room, Laurene was on the phone with her daughter. I could hear her laughter through the open window. I thought about how afraid of being alone my whole life.
How she clung to unhealthy relationships with her family just so she wouldn’t be alone. And how, paradoxically, it was the decision to let go of those relationships that brought me true freedom and joy. Yes, there are fewer people in my life.
But the ones who remained, Rebecca, Lauren, the other friends I reconnected with, were there for real reasons. Out of love, respect, genuine interest in each other. I remembered Marissa’s last words.
You’ll regret it when you’re all alone. But I wasn’t alone. I was with myself.
For the first time in years, truly with myself. Not dissolved in the needs of others. Laurene and I planned to visit a local winery in the morning, and then a small museum in a neighboring town.
No rigid schedules, no commitments. Just things that brought us pleasure. This is what my life has become since that decisive step six months ago.
A life where I finally allowed myself to be the main character instead of a perpetual statistic. I took a sip of the warm evening air, filled with the scents of Tuscany. James would be pleased.
He always said I deserved more than I gave myself. And though it took many years and a painful epiphany, I finally realized he was right. At 77, I had finally learned the most important thing.
To love myself as I loved others. And it was the most important discovery of my life. The phone vibrated again.
Garrett’s number this time. Before, I would have answered it immediately, ready to interrupt any activity for his call. But now I just put the phone aside.
Whatever my son had to say could wait. Now was my time. I raised my eyes to the starry Italian sky and smiled.
All the 174 receipts. All the years of sacrifices and concessions. All that was in the past.
There was only freedom ahead. Freedom to be herself, without regard for other people’s expectations and demands. And it was the most beautiful freedom I had ever experienced.