Max handed me a drawing—three stick figures holding hands. “That’s you, me, and Rover!”
“Oh, we don’t have a dog,” Lila corrected gently.
Thomas laughed. “Mom can’t handle a dog. She struggles with herself.”
I set my cup down and stood slowly.
“Let’s have cake,” I said, “but first—a toast.”
I lifted my cup. They followed, smiling.
“To family,” I said. “To those we love.”
“To family!” they echoed.
“When your father died, Tom, I worked three jobs to keep us afloat. I gave up my dreams so you could chase yours.”
Thomas shifted nervously. “Mom… where is this going?”
Lila’s smile faltered.
“But I recently learned something,” I said, placing my cup down. “Daycare is only $500.”
Thomas went pale.
“So every month, you’ve taken $300 from me. You laughed about it. You planned to rent my room. You joked about a nursing home. After everything I’ve given you.”
“Mom, we can explain—”
“Explain what? Why you called me a pushover? Why you laughed at my trust?”
“You were eavesdropping!” Lila shot back.
“We needed the money, Mom—for the apartment, the car…”
“Did you need to lie to the woman who gave up everything for you?”
I went to the kitchen drawer and pulled out my checkbook.
“This ends today. No more $800. No more free babysitting. No more broken promises.”
I wrote a check for $500—the actual daycare cost.
Continue reading…
