Colin called three days after the visit. His voice sounded more settled than it had during our earlier conversations, and he began by asking whether I had received the latest property documents.
“I have,” I said. “Richard sent them yesterday.”
“We've been thinking about the house again.”
I put down my pen.
“Go ahead.”
“Jessica and I discussed it after we visited you. We don't think buying the property is the right decision for us. We would rather continue renting somewhere we can comfortably afford.”
I felt relieved. They had reached the decision without asking me to subsidize the purchase or take on additional financial risk.
“That sounds sensible,” I said.
“But I wanted to ask you something else.”
I waited.
“Would you consider helping us with the moving expenses? The deposit on the new place, the movers, and everything else added up faster than we expected.”
There was no anger in his voice, only uncertainty. I could hear that he had rehearsed the request and was trying to make it sound reasonable.
I considered the question carefully.
“How much are you asking for?”
He gave me an estimate. It was not an enormous amount compared with my resources, but it was significant enough to matter to a family managing a new lease and the costs of moving.
“I'll think about it,” I said.
He sounded surprised. “All right.”
“I want to understand exactly what you're asking me to cover and whether it would create an expectation that I would pay for similar expenses in the future.”
“I don't want that,” he said quickly. “I just thought you might be willing to help this once.”
“Then let's be clear about that before making a decision.”
We agreed that he would send me a written breakdown of the expenses. I told him I would review it and respond after I had considered the request.
When the message arrived, I examined the figures. The costs were plausible, and there was no indication that he was asking me to fund an extravagant lifestyle. They had paid a deposit, hired movers, and needed to cover several expenses associated with establishing the new home.
I could afford to help. The question was whether I wanted to, and under what terms.
I called Richard to ask whether there were any concerns I should consider before making a family gift. He explained that I should document the transfer clearly, make sure it did not conflict with my existing financial plans, and avoid confusing it with the property transaction.
I appreciated the advice.
After reviewing my budget and long-term arrangements, I decided to contribute a fixed amount toward the moving expenses. It would be a gift, not a loan, and it would not create an ongoing obligation.
I called Colin.
“I've reviewed the figures,” I said. “I'm willing to help with a portion of the moving expenses. I'll send you the amount and the terms in writing so there is no confusion.”
He was silent for a moment.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“I want to be clear that this is a one-time gift. I am not agreeing to cover future household expenses or provide an ongoing allowance.”
“I understand.”
“And I want you and Jessica to continue making decisions based on what you can afford yourselves.”
“We will.”
I arranged the transfer through the proper channels and kept a record of it. When the money arrived, Colin sent a message thanking me again.
For the first time since the lottery win, I felt that helping my son had not required me to surrender control of my finances or my future. I had considered the request, decided what I was comfortable giving, and made the terms clear.
The difference mattered.
A week later, Colin called to tell me that the move had gone smoothly. The children were beginning to enjoy their new rooms, and Jessica had found a place for the dining table that made the smaller kitchen feel more spacious.
He sounded almost cheerful.
“Lucas says the house has better light for taking photographs,” he told me. “Sophie says she wants to paint her room yellow.”
“Perhaps she has been influenced by my cottage.”
“Probably.”
We laughed together.
Then Colin grew quiet.
“Mom, I want to tell you something.”
“I'm listening.”
“When we first got the letter, I was angry. I thought you had deliberately put us in a difficult position.”
“I know.”
“But the more I think about it, the more I realize that we had already put you in a difficult position. We just didn't see it because you kept making everything work.”
I felt a tightness in my throat.
He continued before I could answer.
“I don't think I understood how much you were doing. And I didn't understand that you could be unhappy even when you weren't complaining.”
I looked toward the kitchen window, where the rosemary plant had begun to grow new shoots.
“I'm glad you're thinking about it.”
“I wish I had understood earlier.”
“So do I.”
He apologized again, this time without asking me to reassure him that everything was forgiven. I thanked him and told him that rebuilding trust would take time.
We spoke about the children, the new house, and the possibility of arranging another visit. When we ended the call, I felt hopeful, but I did not mistake hope for certainty.
The next morning, Richard called to confirm that the property sale was progressing. The necessary preparations had been completed, and the sale would proceed according to the agreed plan. I reviewed the remaining paperwork and authorized the next steps.
I did not tell Colin the details unless they directly affected him. The tenancy had concluded, and he had established another home. The property was now a separate business matter.
That afternoon, I took a walk through the neighborhood. I passed the small garden of a house with a blue door and stopped to admire the flowers. The woman who lived there was outside watering her plants, and we exchanged a few friendly words.
She asked whether I had lived in the neighborhood long.
“Not very long,” I replied. “I'm still getting settled.”
She smiled and told me that the area was quiet and friendly. I thanked her and continued walking.
It struck me that I was building a life beyond the family crisis. My days were no longer organized around waiting for Colin to call, wondering whether Jessica was upset, or trying to anticipate what someone might need from me.
I still cared about those things. They simply no longer occupied every corner of my mind.
When I returned home, I opened the notebook where I had been recording household expenses and future plans. I checked the accounts Richard had helped me establish and confirmed that the moving gift had not affected my long-term security.
Everything remained in order.
I closed the notebook and put it away.
The lottery had given me the means to make choices I could not previously afford. It had not given me the wisdom to make them automatically. That part still required patience, honesty, and the willingness to say no when a request crossed a boundary.
I hoped Colin was beginning to learn the same lesson.
Click here to continue reading: PART 19: When My Son Asked Whether I Regretted Leaving, I Gave Him the Answer I Had Been Afraid to Speak for Years
The Two-Dollar Birthday Gift That Revealed How Little My Family Thought I Was Worth
Part 18 of 20
