When Gina finds out that her daughter-in-law uses her and her home as a form of punishment for her grandchildren, she gets upset. But instead of lashing out, she ensures that her grandchildren feel safe and at home with her. Later, she teaches her daughter-in-law a lesson that she won’t forget.
“We are only here because you ate that candy that Mom was saving for Dad, Jacob. Mom told you not to!” I overheard my grandson, Thomas, say to his younger brother.
I stopped mid-step between the fridge and the counter in the kitchen, straining to hear more. My heart sank at the possibility that I’d heard Thomas correctly because that meant that my grandchildren hadn’t really wanted to come here.
Slowly, I walked closer to them, trying to act nonchalant.
“Apology accepted,” I said softly. “But now we need to move forward, for their sake.”
Amanda and I found a tentative peace after that, and the boys’ visits continued without the dark cloud of fear hanging over them. Our time together was filled with laughter and joy, the air of magic making each visit special.
One evening, when the boys were spending the night with me, allowing Brian and Amanda to go on a date night, I tucked them into bed.
“Grandma, are you really a witch?” Jacob asked quietly.
I smiled and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.
“No, my sweet boy,” I said. “I’m not. But magic is real if you believe in it. It’s in the love we share, the fun we have, and the memories we make.”
“I like your kind of magic, Grandma,” Jacob said, half-asleep. “It’s less scary than the curses.”
“I love you both, very much,” I said, turning off the light.
The next morning, as I prepared breakfast, the boys ran into the kitchen, still buzzing with the excitement of their latest “magical” discoveries.
“Grandma, can we make more potions today?” Jacob asked, his eyes roaming around the kitchen to see what I had on the counters.
“Of course,” I laughed. “But first, how about some pancakes?”
As we sat down to eat, there was a knock at the door. Amanda stood there, looking hesitant but hopeful.
“Good morning,” she said softly. “I was hoping to join you for breakfast.”
“Come on in,” I told her. “We’re just about to start.”
As we ate, Amanda watched the boys chatter excitedly about their magical adventures. She smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, as the boys ran off to play outside. “For everything.”
“It’s all for them,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “They deserve to feel loved and happy.”
“And I’m sorry for what I said before,” she said. “I was wrong to make your home seem like the punishment den. It’s far from it. It’s actually warmer and more comfortable than our own.”
In the weeks that followed, Amanda tried harder with me. She tried to bring the boys over as much as possible, always bringing baked treats along with her.
“She’s trying, Mom,” Brian said one day when he came to fetch the boys. “And you can see that she’s excited to come here and spend time with you and the boys. It’s a big deal for her.”
I smiled at my son.
“It’s about time,” I said.
What would you have done?
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