“What a fine sense of fairness you have, Evelyn! So, our kids roasted in the garden last summer, then we spent the whole year slaving away to fix up your cottage, and now Anastasias children get to enjoy all the comforts while ours stay home? Youre a real picture of honesty!” Olga snapped, unable to hold back.
“Well, I said it was for the childrenI never said *only* yours! Did you think I dont have other grandchildren? Yours had their turn last year, now its Anastasias. Thats fair, isnt it?”
“Oh, brilliant fairness,” Olga shot back. “So ours sweltered in the garden, we broke our backs all year sorting your place, and now Anastasias little ones get the pool and playground while ours sit indoors? Youre a marvel, really.”
“Bring yours next summer, then. The cottage isnt going anywhere. Were family, arent we? Sometimes you help, sometimes Anastasia does. And lets not forgetits *my* cottage. Ill manage it as I please!”
“Right. And Anastasias grand contribution was a bag of sand for the sandpit. What a sacrifice,” Olga muttered.
“Evelyn, fairness means equal shares. Why not take one lot for a month, then the other?”
“Are you mad? Id collapse in two months with that crowd. Im not as young as I used to be,” Evelyn huffed.
“What about two weeks each?”
“Cant. Ive already promised Anastasia. She and Val have leave in Julythey want a proper break without the children. Its settled.”
“Bring them next Wednesday, just till Friday. Ill manage a few days with them, happily. But any longer… its too much for me.”
Olga exhaled sharply. A few days? After all theyd poured into that place? It was nothinga pittance, given the circumstances.
“Fine. Understood. Goodbye,” she said flatly, slamming the phone down.
She gripped her head. What now? The children had spent all year dreaming of Grannys cottagethe new playground, the pooland now? Now it all went to someone else.
…It had started so innocently. Last summer, Oliver had gone to visit his mother, and Olga had tagged along. She hadnt been to the cottage in a decade, not since his father was alive. And truthfully, little had changed.
It had never been luxurious, but now it was practically derelictcreaky windows, an outdoor loo, weeds waist-high. The roof sagged. Dead branches dangled from the trees. Inside was no better: Soviet-era furniture, faded wallpaper, a musty stench of damp.
“Oh, so much to do, so much…” Evelyn sighed. “Oliver, love, start with the grass and branches. Ill show you where to prune.”
While Oliver worked outside, Evelyn brewed tea for herself and Olga. They chatted about school grades, work, health. Then
“Id love to have the grandchildren here, but what would they *do*?” Evelyn sighed. “Catch frogs by the stream? Dig in the vegetable patch? Theres nothing for themno comforts, no fun.”
Olga glanced around the kitchen. She remembered summers at her own grandmothers village houseeven feeding chickens had felt like an adventure. Shed hunted worms for Grandads fishing trips, woven flower crowns her grandmother would scold her for.
“These wretched bindweeds! Cant get rid of them!” shed grumbled.
Back then, every day brought discoveries. Olga had marveled at butterflies, cried when a “fly” shed caught turned out to be a wasp. Those summers were her happiest memories. She wanted the same for her children.
“Listenwhat if we all chip in and fix the place up?” Olga suggested. “Bit by bit.”
“Yes! Thats just what I was thinking,” Evelyn beamed. “Better to invest in our own place than waste money on package holidays.”
“Fine by me. The children will have a proper breakno sea in the city, but they can swim in the lake. Ill bring them every summer.”
And so they did. By autumn, new windows were in. Oliver repaired the fence; Olga scouted secondhand furniture for the kids room. The children stayed with Evelyn in August and came back thrilled.
“Mum, can we go back to Grannys? We found snails, grasshopperseven a mouse! And a praying mantis!” her youngest gushed.
“Of course,” Olga smiled. “Well help Granny, and next year itll be even better.”
Evelyn had nodded along, smiling.
The whole year passed in expenses and anticipation. They piped in water, added a proper bathroom, did what repairs they could. Bought an aircon unit to beat the heat. The garden gained a gazebo, sandpit, and a poolinflatable, but the children adored it. They pestered constantly about when theyd visit.
“Youve done so well!” Evelyn praised. “The children will be in heaven.”
At the time, Olga had felt they were building something togetherthat this was what family did. Helped, united, shared joy.
Meanwhile, Anastasia hadnt lifted a finger. At gatherings, shed listen wide-eyed to updates on the cottage, saying nothing. Her sole contribution? A single bag of sand.
It had cost Olga and Oliver dearlyskipped holidays, every spare penny. Theyd done it for the children. And their reward? *”Try next year.”*
Olga seethedfor herself, for the kids. She rang her mother to vent.
“Well, its a tricky situation…” her mother said carefully. “But Evelyns behaved badly. Technically, shes within her rights, but shes led you on. And you believed her…”
“We *all* did! Oliver was there every other day. The kids wont stop asking about the cottage. What do I tell them? On one hand, we walked into this. On the other…”
“On the other, shes played you brilliantly,” her mother finished. “She couldve said upfront she wouldnt take Leo and Noah this year.”
“Exactly! But now the problems biggerwhat do we *do*? Weve no holiday fund left, and theyll be bored stiff at home.”
“There are options. Renting a place, for one. Not cheap, but compared to what youve spent… Cheaper than abroad.”
“Whod watch the kids? Were working, and theyre too young to leave alone.”
“I will,” her mother offered. “I could use the fresh air. And youd relax knowing theyre safe.”
At first, Olga hesitated. But within a week, theyd found a quaint little cabin on the citys outskirtssmall but cosy, with an apple tree in the yard and wooden walls still smelling of resin. A rickety table on the porch, a barbecue in the garden.
One last touch: Oliver and Olga drove to Evelyns to reclaim the pool and swings.
“So *this* is how it is?” Evelyn wailed as Oliver dismantled their handiwork. “I cant take your kids this year, so youll rob Anastasias of their fun?”
Olga folded her arms. Others mightve caved, waited a year, or let the pool go. Not her.
“I bought that joy for *my* children. Anastasia can buy her own.”
Evelyn drew breath, ready to retortthen turned away, silent.
The next month flew by. Weekends were spent at the cabinbarbecues, picnics, the children chattering about berry-picking in the woods. They splashed in the pool, swung till dusk, collapsed into bed happy and worn out.
Sitting on the porch with her mother and husband, Olga realizedthis humble cabin felt warmer than Evelyns refurbished cottage. Maybe because no one was using them here. This was just family.
The rental cost a fraction of their years spending. Olga wondered why theyd ever trusted Evelyn when the alternative was so simple.
“It was even better than Grannys last year!” the children declared when collected.
Olga smiled. At least theyd have plenty to write in their *”How I Spent My Summer”* essays.
“Let Evelyn and Anastasia foot their own bills now,” Olga said on the drive home. “Well manage on our own. *Thats* fair.”
She saw it all as a lesson. Shed still move mountains for her childrenbut never again on empty promises.
What do you think of Grannys actions? Share your thoughts below!
