PART6

Before he left, he hugged me.

It was a little awkward at first.

But then he held on.

And I held on too.

Sunday afternoon, I went to their house.

Augie spotted me through the front window.

“GRANDMA!”

He ran so fast that he nearly knocked over a chair.

Lily came behind him, carrying a stuffed rabbit.

Ben was in his high chair, eating crackers.

I knelt down and opened my arms.

“There’s my babies!”

Augie hugged me around the neck.

“Grandma, are you living at the store now?”

I laughed.

“Above the store, sweetheart.”

“Do you sleep next to the hammers?”

“Not quite.”

He looked disappointed.

“I thought that would be cool.”

Lily climbed onto my lap.

“Can we come to your house?”

“Of course.”

“Can we have cookies?”

“Absolutely.”

Then she whispered, “Mommy says you’re too busy now.”

I looked toward the kitchen.

Marlee was standing by the counter.

She had heard.

I didn’t want to argue in front of the children.

So I kissed Lily’s forehead.

“Grandma is never too busy to love you.”

Marlee turned away.

Dinner was a little uncomfortable.

We talked about school, the weather, and the price of groceries.

Nobody mentioned the pink notebook.

Nobody mentioned the letter.

But as I was getting ready to leave, Marlee followed me to the front door.

“Can I talk to you?”

I nodded.

Hugh was in the living room with the children.

Marlee crossed her arms.

“I just want to say something.”

“Go ahead.”

“I think you’ve misunderstood what we were trying to do.”

I waited.

“We weren’t trying to take advantage of you.”

I looked at her.

“Then why did you write those things in the notebook?”

She looked down.

“I was frustrated.”

“And the letter?”

“I was trying to organize things.”

“Without asking me.”

She sighed.

“You’re making this sound like I’m some terrible person.”

I spoke gently.

“I’m not interested in deciding what kind of person you are, Marlee. I’m interested in deciding what kind of treatment I will accept.”

She looked at me.

“I have three children. I have a job. I have a household to run. Do you know how hard that is?”

“I do.”

“Then you should understand.”

“I understand more than you think.”

I paused.

“But I raised a child too. I worked full-time. I managed a home. I cared for my husband. I did all those things without believing another woman’s retirement was my solution.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

For a moment, I thought she might finally apologize.

Instead, she whispered, “I just needed help.”

I softened.

“Then you should have asked me for help. Not presented me with a bill and a list of obligations.”

She looked away.

I opened the door.

“Goodnight, Marlee.”

I left without another word.

A month passed.

My new life became something I looked forward to.

I had breakfast with Dorothy every Wednesday.

I helped Mr. Crenshaw with his paperwork.

Sometimes I walked to the park and sat on a bench with a book.

I even bought myself a new blue cardigan.

It cost forty-two dollars.

I stood in the store for almost ten minutes debating whether I should buy it.

Then I remembered something Dorothy had told me.

“Stop asking yourself whether you deserve every little thing. Sometimes you just need to ask whether you can afford it.”

I could afford it.

So I bought it.

I wore it the following Sunday when the children came to visit.

They loved my apartment.

Augie discovered the little bell above the hardware store entrance.

Lily helped me water my plants.

Ben learned how to say “Grandma’s house.”

And every time they came, I felt grateful.

Not because I was taking care of them.

Because I was getting to know them.

There is a difference.

One Saturday, Hugh called.

“Mom, are you busy?”

“Not particularly.”

“Would you like to come over? We have something to tell you.”

I heard Marlee in the background.

“Tell her to come for lunch!”

I smiled.

“I’ll be there.”

When I arrived, the children were playing in the backyard.

Hugh and Marlee were sitting at the kitchen table.

There were papers in front of them.

My stomach tightened.

“What is it?”

Hugh looked at Marlee.

Then he looked at me.

“We’ve been talking about the childcare situation.”

I sat down.

“All right.”

Marlee took a breath.

“We found a daycare center near my office.”

“That’s good.”

“It’s expensive,” she continued. “But we worked out the budget.”

Hugh nodded.

“We’ll manage.”

I looked at both of them.

“That’s a responsible decision.”

Marlee folded her hands.

“And I wanted to apologize.”

I didn’t move.

She looked uncomfortable.

“I shouldn’t have expected you to pay rent and provide childcare. I shouldn’t have written those things in the notebook.”

Her eyes became wet.

“I was worried about money, and I thought I could solve everything by having you move in.”

I listened.

“I also shouldn’t have left that letter under your door.”

I nodded slowly.

“Thank you for saying that.”

She looked at me.

“I know an apology doesn’t fix everything.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

She swallowed.

“But I’d like to try to make things better.”

I looked through the kitchen window.

Augie was showing Ben how to throw a ball.

Lily was running around them, laughing.

Then I looked back at Marlee.

“I’d like that too.”

Hugh reached for my hand.

“Can we start over?”

I smiled.

“We can start fresh. But we can’t pretend nothing happened.”

He nodded.

“I understand.”

And for the first time, I believed he might.

Six months later, something wonderful happened.

Mr. Crenshaw decided he was ready to retire from the day-to-day work at the hardware store.

He had no children nearby, and he had been trying to find someone trustworthy to help manage the place.

One afternoon, he asked me to sit down in his office.

“Tressie, I’ve got a proposition.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds expensive.”

He laughed.

“Nothing like that.”

He explained that he wanted to hire me part-time as the store’s office manager.

I would handle invoices, bookkeeping, customer calls, and a little paperwork.

The hours would be flexible.

I could work three mornings a week.

He would pay me a fair hourly wage.

I looked at him.

“At my age?”

He frowned.

“At your experience.”

I laughed.

“You’re a stubborn old man.”

“That’s why we get along.”

I accepted.

CONTINUE FOR FINAL PART…