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.