“You call this fairness, Margaret? Last summer, our kids sweltered in that overgrown garden while we spent the entire year slaving away to fix up your cottage. Now Anastasias children get to enjoy all the comforts while ours sit at home? Some justice this is!” Olivias voice trembled with barely contained fury.
“Well, I did say it was for the childrenbut I never specified yours alone!” Margaret shot back, folding her arms. “Do you think I dont have other grandchildren? Yours had their turn last yearnow its Anastasias. Thats fair!”
Olivia scoffed. “Fair? Our kids roasted in that mess while we poured our savings into making your place habitable! And now you hand it over to Anastasias children like we never lifted a finger? How generous!”
“Bring yours next summer, then,” Margaret said dismissively. “The cottage isnt going anywhere. Were family, arent we? Sometimes you help, sometimes Anastasia does. At the end of the day, its my property, and I decide who stays there!”
“Oh, brilliant! Anastasia contributed what, exactly? A bag of sand for the sandpitwhat a grand sacrifice!” Olivias words dripped with sarcasm.
Margaret bristled. “Fairness means equal shares. So whatshould I take one set of children for a month, then switch?”
“You must be joking! Id collapse in weeks. Im not as young as I used to be!”
“Then two weeks?”
“Impossible. Ive already promised Anastasia. She and Walter have booked their holiday for Julythey need time away from the kids. It cant be helped.”
Olivia clenched her fists. The injustice burned. “Fine. Bring them next Wednesdayjust till Friday. A few days is all I can manage. Anything more would be too much.”
A few days. After everything theyd investedit was nothing. A pittance. Olivia exhaled sharply. “Right. I understand perfectly. Goodbye.” She slammed the phone down, pressing her palms to her temples. What now?
The children had spent all year dreaming of their grandmothers cottagethe new playground, the pool, the fresh air. And now? None of it was theirs.
—
It had all started so innocently. Last summer, Edward had gone to visit his mother, and Olivia had joined him. She hadnt been to the cottage in nearly a decade, back when Edwards father was still alive. Time hadnt been kind to the place.
What had once been rustic now bordered on derelictcreaky windows, an outdoor loo, waist-high weeds. The roof sagged dangerously; dry branches scraped against the walls. Inside was worsepeeling wallpaper, sagging floors, the musty stink of neglect.
Margaret sighed dramatically. “Oh, theres so much to do Edward, start with the garden. Ill show you which branches need trimming.”
While Edward worked outside, Olivia sipped tea with Margaret. They chatted about school, work, healthuntil Margaret sighed again.
“Id love to have the grandchildren here, but what would they even do? Catch frogs by the stream? Dig in the dirt? Theres nothing for them hereno comforts, no fun.”
Olivia glanced around, remembering her own childhood summers in the countryside. Collecting worms for her grandads fishing trips, weaving flower crownseven feeding the chickens had felt like an adventure.
She wanted that for her children.
“Listen,” Olivia said suddenly. “What if we all pitched in? Fixed the place upslowly, over time?”
Margarets eyes lit up. “Exactly what I was thinking! Why waste money on holidays abroad when we could invest in our own retreat?”
By summers end, new windows had been installed. Edward repaired the fence; Olivia scoured second-hand shops for childrens furniture. In August, the kids stayed with Margaret and returned raving about it.
“Mum, can we go back next year?” her youngest begged. “We found snails and grasshopperseven a mouse! And a praying mantis!”
“Of course,” Olivia said, smiling.
The entire year was spent pouring moneyand hopeinto the cottage. Plumbing, a proper bathroom, fresh paint. A small pool, a swing set. The children asked constantly when theyd return.
“Youve done marvelously!” Margaret beamed. “Now the little ones will have paradise.”
Olivia had believed they were working togetherthat this was what family did.
Meanwhile, Anastasia did nothing. She listened politely when the cottage was discussed, offering only a bag of sand when asked.
The betrayal cut deep.
—
Olivia called her own mother, seething.
“Margarets played you,” her mother said bluntly. “She couldve been honest from the start.”
“And now what? The kids were counting on this!”
“Rent somewhere else. Its pricey, but cheaper than what youve already spent.”
“But wholl watch them? We cant leave them alone!”
“I will,” her mother offered.
A week later, they found a cozy little cabin on the citys outskirtsmodest but warm, with an apple tree in the yard. They bought a pool and swingsthen went to collect the ones from Margarets.
“Youd really take this from Anastasias children?” Margaret cried as Edward dismantled them.
Olivia crossed her arms. “I bought these for my children. Anastasia can buy her own.”
Margaret spluttered, then turned away in silence.
The next month was a blur of barbecues, berry-picking, and laughter. The children splashed in the pool, swung until dusk, fell into bed exhausted and happy.
Sitting on the cabins porch, Olivia realizedthis was better than Margarets cottage. Because here, no one was using them.
When they drove home, the children cheered, “This was even better than last year!”
Olivia smiled. At least now theyd have stories to tell.
“Let Margaret and Anastasia figure things out themselves,” she said quietly in the car. “Well manage on our own. Thats fair.”
Shed learned her lessonno more blind trust.
What do you think of the grandmothers actions? Share your thoughts below.
