He called back immediately.
I finally picked it up.
“Mom,” he shouted, the background noise full of overlapping voices. “What is wrong with the lock on the cabin? My key won’t turn. And why are all our things in garbage bags on the porch?”
“Because you don’t live there, David,” I answered smoothly, pouring myself another glass of lemonade.
“Sarah invited 10 of her friends up here for a barbecue,” he panicked. “They’re all sitting in their cars waiting to get in. Did you change the locks? You have to tell me where the spare key is hidden right now.”
“There is no spare key for you,” I stated. “The cabin is my property. Since you sold your father’s tools for a country club membership, I decided to rent the cabin out to a lovely retired couple. They arrived tomorrow. I packed your belongings so you wouldn’t leave a mess for my tenants.”
I could hear Sarah screaming in the background.
“She did what? Break a window.”
“If you break a window,” I added calmly, “the neighbors will call the sheriff and you will be arrested for breaking and entering. Load your trash bags into your cars and go home, David. And don’t call me again until you learn how to speak to me with respect.”
I ended the call and turned off my phone.
Helen raised her glass to me, and we clinkedked them together in the afternoon sun.
It has been six months since Memorial Day.
The fallout was predictable, but it didn’t touch me.
Without my weekly $550, David and Sarah were forced to sell the boat at a massive loss just to cover their back rent.
Sarah had to cancel her country club membership and actually get a part-time job to help pay their bills.
The illusion of their wealthy lifestyle shattered, and they had to face the reality of living within their actual means.
David tried to come over in September to apologize.
He stood on my porch looking humbled, holding a cheap bouquet of supermarket flowers.
I accepted the flowers, but I didn’t invite him inside.
He asked if things could go back to normal.
I told him they already had.
My normal was peaceful.
I set strict boundaries.
I told him I would never give them another dime.
I told him that if they wanted me in their lives, it would be as a mother and a grandmother, not an ATM.
I now see Timmy and Lily twice a month.