I put in $40,000 from my retirement savings. It was a lot, but I didn’t hesitate. Back then, I thought being close to family was worth more than any amount of money.
Most evenings, I’m at the back of Carter’s Diner, hands deep in hot water and soap. My hands stay rough and sore, but bills don’t pay themselves.
When Henry asked if I could help with Liam’s daycare, I didn’t think twice. Even with my own struggles, I said yes. Because when you love someone, you make it work.
“Mom, it’s $800 a month,” he’d said last winter. “We’re really tight.”
So, I sent the money every month without fail. My grandson deserved good care, even if it meant stretching myself thin.
Last Wednesday night, I dragged myself home after a 10-hour shift. My feet ached. My back hurt. I sank into my old armchair and closed my eyes.
Suddenly, static buzzed from the walkie-talkie on my apron.
“Daddy, you there?” Liam’s sleepy voice came through.
I smiled.
But then I heard other voices. Sarah’s laugh… sharp and sly.
