Saturday morning arrived slowly.
I woke early.
I made tea and checked the apartment.
The little kitchen was clean.
The yellow flowers were still fresh.
I had bought biscuits for the children.
There were also apples and a small chocolate cake.
I did not want to prepare a large meal.
I wanted the visit to be simple.
At eleven, I heard a knock.
I opened the door.
Michael stood in front of me.
His younger sibling was beside him.
Both were smiling.
"Grandma!"
I stepped back and welcomed them inside.
Michael immediately looked around.
"This is your new house?"
"It is."
He walked toward the window.
"Where is your television?"
I laughed.
"I haven't bought one yet."
He looked surprised.
"How do you watch cartoons?"
"Sometimes I read instead."
He seemed to think about that.
Then he noticed the flowers.
"Did you buy those?"
"Yes."
"They're pretty."
I smiled.
Daniel and Emily entered behind the children.
Daniel carried a small bag.
Emily had brought a box of pastries.
I thanked them.
We sat together.
The children wanted to see everything.
They looked inside the kitchen cupboards.
They examined the coffee maker.
Michael asked why I had brought such an old machine.
"Because I like it."
He touched the small scratch on the side.
"Does it still work?"
"Perfectly."
Daniel smiled.
"I remember that coffee maker."
I looked at him.
"You used to spill sugar beside it."
He laughed.
For a moment, the room felt like our old family kitchen.
Then the moment passed.
The children began asking questions about the apartment.
Michael wanted to know whether I had a garden.
I told him I had a balcony and planned to grow some flowers.
He offered to help.
His younger sibling wanted to know whether Grandma's bed was big enough.
I told them it was comfortable.
Then Michael asked the question I had been expecting.
"Are you coming back to our house?"
I looked at Daniel.
He seemed unsure what to say.
I crouched beside Michael.
"Not right now, sweetheart."
"Why?"
I thought carefully.
"Sometimes grown-ups need to live in different places so everyone can have a little more peace."
He looked confused.
"Did we do something wrong?"
My heart tightened.
"No. Absolutely not."
I held his hands.
"You and your sibling have done nothing wrong. Grandma loves you both very much."
He nodded.
Then he hugged me.
I held him longer than I intended.
Emily watched quietly.
After the children had settled, Daniel gave me the bag he had brought.
Inside were some photographs.
They were pictures from the old family home.
He had found them in a drawer.
I looked through them.
There was one of Michael's first birthday.
Another showed the children playing in the garden.
There was even a photograph of me holding a cake in the kitchen.
I smiled.
"Thank you for bringing these."
Daniel sat beside me.
"I thought you might want them."
I nodded.
I did.
They were memories I did not want to lose.
The visit lasted about an hour.
I did not prepare lunch.
We ate the pastries Emily had brought.
The children played quietly near the window.
When it was time to leave, Michael asked whether he could come again.
"Of course."
"Next Saturday?"
I looked at Daniel.
He nodded.
"We can arrange it."
I hugged both children.
Then I stood at the door and watched them leave.
I felt happy.
And sad.
Both feelings could exist together.
After the apartment became quiet, I put the photographs on the shelf.
One showed Daniel when he was about ten.
He was standing beside his father.
I remembered that day.
My husband had taken him fishing.
They had returned with almost nothing.
Daniel had been proud anyway.
I smiled.
I wanted to remember my son as he had been before our relationship became tangled in money, responsibility, and silence.
Later that afternoon, Emily sent a message.
"Thank you for letting the children visit."
I replied.
"You're welcome. I enjoyed seeing them."
A few minutes later, another message arrived.
"I think we should talk about how things will work going forward."
I read it carefully.
I was willing to discuss arrangements.
But I wanted them to be clear.
I replied that we could arrange a meeting after the property documents had been reviewed.
She answered with a simple acknowledgment.
I put my phone down.
Then I watered the flowers.
The soil was still damp.
I wiped a little water from the counter.
I thought about how different the apartment felt from Daniel's house.
There, every small task had become part of a routine that belonged to everyone except me.
Here, watering flowers was something I did because I enjoyed it.
I was not waiting for anyone to notice.
I was doing it for myself.
That evening, I cooked vegetables and rice.
I ate at the little table.
I washed my plate.
Then I sat by the window with a book.
The children had visited.
I had seen my son.
I had spoken to Emily.
But I had not surrendered the space I had finally created.
That mattered.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Daniel Began to Understand the Money I Had Contributed, but Understanding the Numbers Was Only the First Step Toward Repairing Our Family
I Thought Being Useful to My Family Meant I Would Always Have a Place at Their Table
Part 11 of 20
