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“As long as I breathe, no one in my family pays rent.”
I covered most of the bills—electricity, groceries, insurance.
My stepdaughter Delia wasn’t working. She said the children kept her too busy, even though I spent four to five hours a day babysitting them. Yet she came home with new shoes almost every week, and her closet looked like Macy’s. Always a reason, always an excuse.
“Mom, please… don’t start.”
“I’m not starting. I’m asking a question. Or am I no longer allowed to ask?”
He shrugged, and I let it go. Because my grandchildren adored me. Lora climbed into my bed at night.
“Nana, I want to sleep with you!”
And little Ben whispered, as if sharing a secret, “When I grow up, I’ll buy you a castle. And you’ll be the queen.”
When the clinic told me I had to retire, I didn’t cry. I was seventy. I knew it was coming. But I asked for one more day—to say goodbye to my patients.
My team gave me a sweet farewell: cupcakes, balloons, and a mug that read “Retired, not expired.” I laughed, but inside, fear lingered—fear of silence, fear of being nothing.
After work, I stopped by Tilly’s and got a strawberry and cream cake that Ben loved. I thought we’d celebrate that night.
At home, the sun was setting, casting golden reflections on the porch. I climbed the steps, grabbed the doorknob… and my key didn’t fit.
Two suitcases—mine—were neatly lined by the front door. On the doorknob, a yellow sticky note:
“Thank you for everything. It’s time for you to rest. Your room in the nursing home is paid for a year. Taxi money is in the envelope. Thomas thinks this is YOUR IDEA. If you want to see the kids again one day, follow MY PLAN. Delia.”
The cake box slid to the side. Icing smeared the lid. I looked at the door. Silent. Empty. No light.
“Did she really…?”
The thought churned in my stomach like ice water.
“Well, I’m damned. I thought you’d be halfway to Shady Pines by now.”
“What?”
“Delia said you were moving into one of those senior living complexes. She said it was your idea—a gift from Tom. Finally taking time for yourself. Wait… that was your idea, wasn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. I just walked in, dropped my bags by her chair, and set the cake on the kitchen counter. Bonnie followed, barefoot and wary.
“Fern, what’s going on?”
“She kicked me out.”
Bonnie made tea and sat me down.
“She packed my bags. Left me taxi money. Told Thomas it was my idea to move. If I wanted to see the children again, I’d better not report her.”
Bonnie stared at me. “I swear, if I had a Taser…”
“I’m serious,” I said.
She sighed and sat opposite me.
“Have you… at least erased your name from the house?”
“No. I put their names on it last year.”
“What are you doing?!”
“She said it would help with taxes. Tom agreed. I thought it made sense.”
“You gave that woman a castle, and now she treats you like a court jester.”
“I just wanted to help,” I whispered.
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