The first Saturday after Colin and Jessica finished moving into their new rental, I woke to the sound of rain tapping against the bedroom window. I had planned to spend the morning in the garden, but the weather had other ideas. I made coffee, put Arthur's old fishing reel back on its shelf after dusting it, and settled beside the window with a book.
At ten fifteen, my phone rang. Colin's name appeared on the screen.
“Mom, are you busy today?”
“Not particularly. Why?”
“The children were wondering whether they could visit. We thought we might bring them down this afternoon, if that's convenient.”
I smiled. “Of course. I'd love to see them.”
He sounded relieved. “We'll leave after lunch. Jessica will come too, if that's all right.”
“Everyone is welcome, Colin.”
After we hung up, I looked around the cottage. The living room was tidy, but I had not prepared anything special. I decided to make a simple lunch, then reminded myself that I did not need to turn every family visit into an event that exhausted me before anyone arrived.
I made a pot of soup, cut some bread, and placed a plate of biscuits on the table. By the time I finished, the rain had stopped, leaving the garden damp and the porch railings shining.
Their car pulled into the driveway shortly after two. Sophie was out before Colin had switched off the engine, hurrying toward the front door with a small backpack bouncing against her shoulders. Lucas followed at a more dignified pace, carrying his camera.
“Grandma!”
I opened my arms, and Sophie threw herself against me. Lucas hugged me next, a little more awkwardly, but he held on long enough for me to know he had missed me too.
Jessica greeted me with a careful smile. Colin carried a bag of snacks into the kitchen, and for a while the house filled with the comfortable noise of a family settling in.
Sophie wanted to see the garden. Lucas asked whether he could photograph the fishing reel. I told him he could, provided he handled it carefully. He examined the worn metal and the wooden handle as though he were looking at an artifact from a museum.
“Dad said Grandpa used to let him take this apart,” he said.
“He did. Your grandfather had more patience than I did when it came to repairing things.”
Colin laughed from the doorway. “You always said I would lose the smallest pieces.”
“You did lose the smallest pieces.”
Everyone laughed, including Jessica, and for a moment the room felt like the family home I had once hoped we could have together.
After lunch, the children explored the cottage. Sophie chose a book from the spare bedroom and curled up on the bed. Lucas stood by the window taking photographs of the garden. Colin and Jessica sat at the dining table with their coffee, speaking quietly about the new rental and the adjustments they were making.
I listened without interrupting. They had managed to arrange the furniture in the new house, and the children were beginning to settle into their rooms. Jessica said that the smaller kitchen required some reorganizing, but she seemed pleased that the commute to school remained manageable.
I was glad things were working out.
Then Lucas came into the kitchen holding his camera.
“Grandma, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He looked toward his father before returning his attention to me.
“Dad said you won the lottery. Is that true?”
The question landed gently, but I knew it had been coming.
“Yes, sweetheart. I won a lottery prize.”
“Was it really eleven million dollars?”
“That was the advertised top prize. The amount I actually received was lower because of the lump-sum payout and taxes.”
He considered this.
“So you're rich?”
I smiled. “I'm financially comfortable. But being rich isn't the same as having everything figured out.”
He looked puzzled, and I understood that a thirteen-year-old might find the distinction difficult to grasp.
“Does that mean you can buy anything you want?”
“Not anything. And even when you can afford something, that doesn't mean buying it is a good idea.”
He thought about that for a moment, then nodded.
“Can I take another picture of the fishing reel?”
“Certainly.”
He returned to the living room, apparently satisfied.
Jessica had gone quiet. Colin stared into his coffee cup. I could sense that the question had brought the adults back to a subject they had been trying to keep away from the children.
I did not want the afternoon to become a financial discussion, so I asked Sophie to show me the drawing she had brought from school. She climbed into the chair beside me and proudly displayed a picture of a house with flowers in the garden.
“You made the roof blue,” I observed.
“I wanted it to look different.”
“That's a good reason.”
She smiled and began telling me about the assignment.
Later, while the children were outside with Colin, Jessica approached me at the kitchen counter.
“I'm sorry Lucas asked about the lottery like that,” she said.
“There's no need to apologize. He was curious.”
“I suppose it's difficult for them to understand.”
“They don't need to understand every detail. They only need to know that I love them and that the money is being managed responsibly.”
She nodded.
“Colin thinks we should explain more to them.”
“We can discuss what is appropriate. But I don't want them to feel that the money changes their place in the family.”
Jessica looked down at the counter.
“I understand.”
I hoped she did.
Before they left, I gave Sophie a small notebook and Lucas a photograph of Arthur at the shop. I told them that if they wanted to learn more about their grandfather, I would be happy to share the stories I remembered.
Lucas examined the photograph carefully.
“Can I put this in my project folder?”
“Of course.”
He thanked me, then hugged me before climbing into the car.
Colin lingered on the porch after Jessica and the children had settled inside.
“Thank you for having us,” he said.
“You're welcome.”
He looked toward the yellow house, then back at me.
“You seem happy here.”
“I am.”
He nodded slowly, as though he were finally allowing himself to accept an answer that did not include a qualification.
“I hope we can keep doing this,” he said. “Visiting, spending time together.”
“So do I.”
When their car disappeared down the road, I returned to the cottage and gathered the cups from the table. The afternoon had been pleasant, but it had also reminded me that the lottery would remain a subject of curiosity for some time.
I could not control what my family imagined about the money. I could only be clear about the boundaries surrounding it.
That evening, I placed Lucas's photograph of the fishing reel beside Arthur's picture on the mantel. The old shop, the yellow cottage, and the children growing up were all parts of the same family story.
I wanted the money to protect that story, not take its place.
Click here to continue reading: PART 18: The Offer My Son Finally Made Forced Us to Separate the Value of a House From the Value of Our Relationship
The Two-Dollar Birthday Gift That Revealed How Little My Family Thought I Was Worth
Part 17 of 20
