“Honesty is a fine thing with you, Evelyn!” burst out Olivia. “So last summer, our children sweltered in the garden, then we slaved away all year to fix up your cottage, and now its Anastasias children who get to enjoy the comforts while ours sit at home? Truly, youre the picture of fairness!”
Evelyn sighed. “I did say it was for the grandchildrenbut I never said only yours! Do you think Ive no other grandchildren to consider? Your children had their turn last year; now its Anastasias. Thats only fair.”
Olivia scoffed. “Oh, splendid fairness indeed! Our lot baked in the sun while we poured money and sweat into your place, and now Anastasias little ones get the pool and the playground? A few days visit next weekthats your grand offer? After all weve done?”
Evelyn lifted her chin. “Bring yours next summer. The cottage isnt going anywhere. Were family, arent we? You help where you can; Anastasia helps where she can. And lets not forgetits my cottage. Ill manage it as I please.”
“Aye, and what help has Anastasia been? A bag of sand for the sandpitwhat a contribution!” Olivia snapped.
“Fairness means equal shares, Evelyn,” Olivia pressed. “Couldnt you take ours for a month, then hers?”
“Good heavens, no! Id be worn to the bone. Im not as young as I wasI cant handle a houseful of children for weeks on end.”
“Then two weeks?”
“Impossible. Ive already promised Anastasia. She and William have holiday in Julythey want a proper break. Its settled.”
Olivia exhaled sharply. A few days. After all theyd poured into that cottage, it was nothinga pittance.
“Very well. I understand perfectly. Goodbye,” she said coldly, hanging up.
She pressed her hands to her temples. What now? The children had spent the year dreaming of summer at Grannysthe new swing set, the pool, the treehouse theyd helped build. And now? Another family would enjoy it all.
It had begun so innocently. Last summer, Olivia and Edward had visited Evelyns cottagea place unchanged in a decade, crumbling at the edges. The roof sagged, the garden was overgrown, and inside, the air smelled of damp and old wallpaper.
“Such a lot to do,” Evelyn had fretted. “Edward, dear, start with the hedges. Ill show you which branches need trimming.”
While Edward worked outside, Evelyn served tea. They spoke of school, work, the childrenuntil Evelyn sighed. “Id love to have the grandchildren here, but what would they do? No comforts, no amusementsjust chasing frogs by the stream.”
Olivia had glanced around, remembering her own childhood summers in her grandmothers village. Even gathering worms for fishing had felt like adventure. Shed woven flower crowns, though her grandmother scolded, “Blasted bindweed! Cant get rid of it!” Back then, every day brought discoverya rare butterfly, the sting of a mistaken bee. Those were the summers she treasured most.
“Perhaps we could fix the place up together,” Olivia suggested. “Bit by bit.”
Evelyn brightened. “Just what I was thinking! Why waste money on fancy holidays when we could invest in our own retreat?”
And so they had. By summers end, new windows gleamed. Edward repaired the fence; Olivia scoured secondhand shops for furniture. The children spent August there, returning wide-eyed with tales of grasshoppers and hedgehogs.
“Next year will be even better,” Olivia promised.
The whole year passed in labor and hope. They installed plumbing, redid the bathroom, painted walls. A swing set rose in the garden; an inflatable pool waited for laughter. The children asked daily, “When can we go to Grannys?”
Evelyn beamed. “Now the little ones will have paradise!”
Olivia had believed they were building something togetherthat this was what family did.
Yet Anastasia had done nothing. Not a penny, not an hours workjust polite interest at gatherings.
Now, bitterness churned in Olivias chest. Theyd sacrificed holidays, saved every spare poundfor what? “Next year.”
She called her own mother, voice trembling.
“Well, its a rotten business,” her mother said. “Evelyns twisted things neatly. Shes not wrong, exactlybut shes not right either.”
“What do I tell the children?” Olivia groaned. “Theyve dreamed of nothing else!”
Her mother hummed. “Rent a place instead. Not cheap, but cheaper than the seaand youve already spent a fortune.”
“But whod mind the children? We cant take time off”
“I will,” her mother said.
A week later, they found a snug little house on the citys edgeapple trees in the yard, a porch smelling of pine. They bought a paddling pool, hung a swing.
Evelyn sputtered when Edward came to reclaim them. “So because I couldnt host your brood this year, youll rob Anastasias children too?”
Olivia folded her arms. “I bought that joy for my children. Anastasia can buy her own.”
Evelyn turned away, lips tight.
The next month passed in golden haze. Weekends were for picnics and berry-picking, for children shrieking in the pool, falling into bed sun-drunk and happy.
Sitting on the porch with Edward and her mother, Olivia realizedthis cramped rental felt more like home than Evelyns polished cottage ever had. Here, no one was keeping score.
In the end, the rental cost far less than a years toil on Evelyns place. The children declared it “even better than Grannys!”
Olivia smiled. At least now theyd have stories to tell.
As they drove home, she said, “Let Evelyn and Anastasia invest in their own happiness. Well manage ours.”
Shed learned her lesson. Shed still move mountains for her childrenbut never again on empty promises.
