PART 3 — GRANDMA’S NEW JOB
The first day, I convinced myself it wasn’t so bad.
I loved the children.
We built sandcastles.
We searched for shells.
Noah buried my feet in the sand and declared that I was now “Grandma Mermaid.”
But children don’t stop needing things because you’re on vacation.
Someone was always thirsty.
Someone needed the restroom.
Someone wanted a snack.
Someone was tired.
Someone had sand somewhere uncomfortable.
By lunchtime, I was exhausted.
Daniel and Macy came back cheerful and rested.
“Thanks, Mom,” Daniel said. “You’re the best.”
I nearly told him.
But Macy was standing behind him.
And she gave me a look.
It was subtle.
But I understood.
Don’t ruin this.
The next day, Macy handed me a schedule.
A literal schedule.
Breakfast with the children.
Beach from nine until noon.
Lunch.
Quiet time in my room.
Pool afterward.
Daniel and Macy had booked a couples massage.
That evening they had dinner reservations.
“What about my dinner?” I asked.
“Room service,” Macy replied. “The kids like pizza.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Macy, I’m happy to help, but—”
She sighed dramatically.
“Linda, please don’t make this difficult. You’re getting an almost free vacation.”
Almost free.
Those words stayed with me.
That afternoon, I sat beside the children’s pool while Noah splashed in the shallow end.
An older woman about my age sat down nearby.
We started talking.
She told me she and her sister came to the resort every summer.
Then she asked, “First time here?”
“First time at any beach.”
Her face lit up.
“Oh, then you have to watch the sunrise tomorrow. And take the harbor cruise. It’s gorgeous.”
I smiled.
“I’ll try.”
But I already knew I wouldn’t.
The next morning, I woke at six.
For a moment, I considered quietly leaving and watching the sunrise.
Then Noah knocked on my door wearing dinosaur pajamas.
“Grandma, Mommy said we should come here when we wake up.”
Emma and Sophie stood behind him.
So I made cereal instead.
On the third day, something happened that nearly broke my heart.
Emma was coloring beside me while her siblings napped.
Suddenly she asked, “Grandma, are you having fun?”
“Of course.”
She studied me.
Children know when adults lie badly.
“Then why don’t you ever go anywhere?”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Mommy and Daddy go places. You stay with us.”
I stroked her hair.
“I like staying with you.”
She frowned.
“But you never saw the dolphins.”
They had gone on a dolphin-watching cruise that morning.
I’d wanted to go badly.
I hadn’t said anything.
Apparently Emma had noticed.
“Maybe another time,” I told her.
She slipped her little hand into mine.
“I wish you came.”
That nearly did it.
For illustrative purposes only
