I Paid All The Bills, And Then My Children Kicked Me Out. They Shouted, “Thank You, Now Go Away, We Don’t Need You Anymore!” But As Soon As I Sent Them Messages About Their Eviction, They Were Shocked, But An Even Bigger Surprise Awaited Them THE NEXT DAY…

I Paid All The Bills, But My Children Kicked Me Out. I Sent Them An Eviction Notice And…

I wiped my hands on my apron inside as I looked at the clock. It was almost 6:00, which meant that soon the house would be filled with noise, loud conversations, and demands.

For 4 years, I have lived with the constant feeling that I am just a shadow in my own home.

My name is Merl Frogg. I am 68 years old and I work as a cashier at the Old Corner hardware store in Wabash.

Four years ago, my husband Lloyd died. 45 years of marriage ended suddenly when his heart stopped right at the dinner table. I still shudder when I remember how he choked on his favorite apple pie and fell face down into his plate.

My world fell apart.

The children came for the funeral. Terrence with his wife Nola and Wanda with her husband Pierce and their three children. They said all the right things, hugged me, promised their support.

A week after the funeral, when everyone had left, I realized that I was completely alone in the big house Lloyd and I had bought 30 years ago. The house felt empty and echoey. I wandered from room to room talking to myself just to hear some kind of sound.

That’s when Terrence called with a great idea. He and his family would move in with me temporarily until they saved up for a down payment on their own place.

A month later, Wanda called to say they were having problems with their landlord and asked if they could stay with me for a couple of months. I agreed, of course.

What could be better than a house full of family?

But a couple of months turned into 6 months, then a year, then two, then three, and now they’ve been living here for 4 years.

My house is no longer mine.

My rules no longer apply.

My life no longer belongs to me.

“Grandma, are you in the bathroom again?”

My 13-year-old granddaughter, Greer, shouted as I got out of the shower this morning. “I need to do my hair. I’m late for school.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” I muttered, even though I had only been in the bathroom for 10 minutes, not an hour like Greer usually takes.

“You always apologize, but nothing ever changes,” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

I went to my room, the only place left that was mine.

Even here though, I couldn’t feel like I truly belonged.

Willow, my 10-year-old granddaughter, often came in without knocking and took my things without asking. And Lawrence, my 8-year-old grandson, thought my room was the perfect place to play hideand seek.

I quickly got dressed and went down to the kitchen to make breakfast for everyone. It had become my unspoken duty.

No one asked. They just expected me to do it.

“Mom, do you have $20 until payday?”

Terrence appeared in the kitchen already dressed in his call center manager’s uniform. “The guys and I need to chip in for a gift for the boss.”

“Of course, dear.” I reached for my purse.

$20 he would never pay back, just like all the other until payday loans.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” He kissed me on the cheek and grabbed a piece of toast from the plate. “I’ve got to run. I’m late.”

He didn’t even sit down at the table.

Neither did Nola, who entered the kitchen a minute later, buttoning her blouse as she walked.

“Miriam, could you pick up the kids from school today?”

“I have to work overtime at the accounting office,” she said without even saying hello. “Whanda can’t. She has an important meeting with a client.”

“Okay,” I replied, even though I was planning to meet Lety, my only friend today. I’d have to cancel our meeting again.

Nola nodded, took an apple from the vase, and disappeared, too.

The children appeared next, noisy and demanding.

Greer complained that she had nothing to wear, even though her closet was stuffed with clothes.

Willow whined that she didn’t want oatmeal. She wanted chocolate cereal.

“Lawrence knocked his glass of juice onto the floor and didn’t even apologize.”

“Grandma will clean it up,” he said with a shrug as I reached for a rag.

Wanda and Pierce were the last to come downstairs.

My daughter, as always, looked impeccable. a strict insurance agent suit, perfect makeup, not a word out of place.

Pierce, her husband, worked in a warehouse, but carried himself as if he were at least a company director.

“Mom, we’re late today,” Wanda said, spreading butter on her toast.

“Don’t wait up for us. I’ll leave something in the fridge,” I replied automatically.

“No, well eat out,” she snapped. “Just don’t lock the door.”

Half an hour later, the house was empty.

I was left alone with dirty dishes, scattered clothes, and halfeaten food.

The usual scene.

I slowly tidied up then got dressed and went to work to the old corner hardware store.

“Good morning, Merl.”

Gwood, the store owner, greeted me. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

I forced a smile as I put on my work apron.

G was a good boss.

When I urgently needed a job after Lloyd’s death, he took me on without question. Even though I had no experience as a cashier, Lloyd had always been proud that his wife was a housewife.

“A man should provide for his family,” he used to say.

And he did while he was alive.

After he died, it turned out that our savings weren’t that big and his pension was laughably small.

The day dragged on.

Customers came and went.

I scanned items, smiled, and gave change.

During my lunch break, Lety called to cancel our meeting.

“Are you babysitting your grandchildren again?”

I could hear the disapproval in her voice.

“Muriel, you’re letting them take advantage of you.”

“What am I supposed to do, Letty? They’re my children, my family.”

“You’re their mother, not their maid,” she snapped. “You have to—”

“I’m sorry, a customer is here,” I interrupted, even though there was no customer. I just didn’t want to hear what I already knew.

After work, I picked up my grandchildren from school as promised.

They got into the backseat of my old Honda and immediately started arguing.

Greer demanded to go to the mall.

Willow wanted ice cream and Lawrence was just being difficult.

“We’ll go home and then I’ll take you where you want to go,” I said, trying to sound firm.

“But Grandma,” they protested in unison.

“No, home first,” I insisted, feeling my head start to ache from their shouting.

At home, I made them a snack, then drove Greer to the mall where she met up with her friends, bought ice cream for Willow and Lawrence, and then drove them around town for another hour because they were bored at home.

By the time we got back, I felt like a squeezed lemon.

Pierce came home in the evening.

He pllopped down on the couch and turned the TV on full blast.

“Pice, can you turn it down?” I asked cautiously. “My head hurts.”

“This is my time to relax, Merl.”

He snapped without looking at me. “I’ve been working hard all day at the warehouse.”

I backed off.

It was useless to argue.

I went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, even though Wanda said they would eat out.

But PICE was here and the children were hungry, so I had to cook.

At dinner, Pice and the children ate in silence, buried in their phones.

I tried to make conversation, asking the children about school and Pierce about work.

I got one-word answers or just nods in return.

“Grandma, you’ve added too much salt again,” Greer grimaced, pushing her plate away. “I can’t eat this.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” I said automatically, reaching for her plate.

“And the bread is stale,” PICE added. “When was the last time you went to the store?”

“Yesterday,” I replied quietly.

“I bought fresh bread, but—”

“Never mind,” he interrupted. “Just be more careful next time.”

After dinner, I was washing the dishes when Terrence and Nola came home.

They walked past me into the kitchen talking loudly about a movie they had seen after work.

“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Terrence asked, opening the refrigerator.

“Chicken stew with vegetables,” I replied. “I left you some ragu again.”

Nola grimaced.

“We had that last week.”

“I can heat up something else,” I offered.

“No, don’t bother,” Terrence sighed. “Just give us that. Just add more pepper though because last time it was completely tasteless.”

I silently reheated their dinner, adding pepper as Terrence had requested.

They ate, discussing their day, completely ignoring me as if I were part of the kitchen furniture.

Wanda was the last to return around 10:00.

She looked tired but content.

“Is everyone asleep?” she asked, taking off her coat.

“The kids are in their rooms. I don’t know if they’re asleep.”

“Pierce is watching TV. Terrence is in his room with Nola.”

“Okay.” She nodded and headed for the stairs, but suddenly stopped.

“Mom, I need you to babysit the kids tomorrow. It’s my anniversary with Pierce, and we want to go out to dinner.”

“I promised Letty,” I began.

“Lety again,” Wanda grimaced. “Mom, it’s just one night. Is your friend more important than your family?”

“No, of course not.”

I gave in.

“I’ll watch the kids.”

“That’s great.” Wanda smiled and went upstairs without even saying thank you.

I was left alone in the living room.

I looked at the clock.

It was almost 11.

Tomorrow, I had to get up early, make breakfast, go to work.

I slowly got up and headed for the stairs when I noticed an envelope on the table by the door.

The postman must have brought it, and I hadn’t noticed.

Opening the envelope, I felt the ground slip away from under my feet.

It was a utility bill, a huge amount, $3,700, and a warning that if I didn’t pay within 3 days, they would cut off the electricity, water, and gas.

$3,700.

That was all my savings set aside for a rainy day.

That day had apparently arrived.

I sank heavily into a chair, rereading the notice.

How could this have happened?

I had always paid all my bills on time.

Then I remembered.

Three months ago, Terrence said he would take care of the utility bills to lighten your load a little, Mom.

I gave him the bills and the money.

He must have forgotten to pay them.

Or maybe he spent the money on something else.

And the same thing happened in the following months.

And now I sat there staring at the paper, feeling despair growing inside me.

They all think I’m an ATM, a servant, invisible.

But what can I do?

This is my family, my only family.

Tomorrow I’ll have to withdraw all my savings and pay off this debt.

And then then something has to change.

I don’t know what, but this can’t go on.

I can’t be invisible in my own home anymore.

I have to do something.

But what?

With these thoughts in my head, I slowly went up to my room, lay down on my bed, and closed my eyes, feeling tears roll down my cheeks.

Tomorrow would be a new day and maybe it would bring a solution.

The bank opened at 9 in the morning.

I stood at the door 10 minutes before opening, clutching my savings book as if it were my only treasure.

In a way, it was.

$3,82643.

Everything I had saved in four years as a cashier.

Money I had saved for roof repairs, a new washing machine, and a rainy day.

And now that rainy day had come.

a young bank clerk with a name tag that said Caleb looked at me in bewilderment when I asked to withdraw the entire amount.

“Are you sure, Mrs. Frogat? Maybe you only need part of it.”

“I need all the money,” I said firmly, though I was trembling inside. “Cash, please.”

He looked at me again as if trying to make sure I was in my right mind, then nodded and began processing the withdrawal.

“You know, Mrs. frog at. If you’re having financial difficulties, the bank offers counseling.”

“Thank you, Caleb, but I just need my money.”

I interrupted him.

The last thing I needed was some young whippers snapper telling me how to manage my finances.

Leaving the bank with an envelope full of cash, I headed straight for the utility office.

There I was greeted by a heavy set middle-aged woman with a tired face.

She didn’t even blink when I laid $3,700 in cash on the counter.

“Sign here,” she said, handing me a receipt. “And here’s your copy. Your debt is now paid in full.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling both relieved and empty.

My savings were gone.

The security I had worked so hard to build had vanished.

On the way to work, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was unfair.

Why should I pay for bills that my children used as their own?

hot water for their endless showers, electricity for their computers and TVs, heating that they adjusted as they pleased without thinking about the cost.

And Terrence, he took the money to pay the bills, and just what?

Spent it, forgot to pay, or maybe he never intended to pay at all.

“Miriam, you seem distracted today,” G remarked after I made a mistake with the change for the second time. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t get enough sleep.”

I lied.

I couldn’t tell him about my family problems.

“Why don’t you take a break? Have some tea.”

“Thanks, G. But I’m fine.”

I tried to smile, but it probably didn’t come across as very convincing.

During my lunch break, Letty called.

I wanted to tell her about the bills, about how I had spent all my savings, but I couldn’t.

I was too ashamed, ashamed to admit that my own children treated me this way, that I allowed them to.

“Merl, are you listening?”

Letty’s voice brought me back to reality.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you’re coming to our meeting tomorrow. We haven’t seen each other in 2 weeks.”

“I’ll try,” I replied uncertainly. “But you know how it is with kids.”

“I know,” she said disapprovingly. “Your kids are grown up, Murill. They have children of their own. When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t remember.

After work, I stopped by the supermarket.

I bought groceries for a special dinner.

Steaks, fresh vegetables, potatoes for mashed potatoes, ingredients for apple pie, Terren’s favorite dessert.

I don’t know why I did it.

Maybe I wanted to create a nice atmosphere before talking about the bills.

Or maybe I was just trying to please him out of habit.

When I got home, I found that no one was there.

There was only a note from Wanda on the refrigerator.

Picked up the kids from school. We’ll be back for dinner.

I started cooking, trying to make everything perfect.

I set the table in the dining room instead of the kitchen as usual.

I took out the nice dishes that Lloyd and I only used on holidays.

I lit the candles.

It was silly and sentimental, but I wanted this evening to be special.

Not because I was going to tell them about spending our savings, but because because I needed to feel that I was still part of this family, that I was seen, appreciated.

They all came home together, Wanda with Pierce and the kids, Terrence with Nola.

Judging by their lively voices, they were in a good mood.

“Wow, it’s like a party in here,” Terrence exclaimed as he entered the dining room. “What’s going on, Mom? Did we miss someone’s birthday?”

“No, I just I just wanted to do something special,” I replied with a smile.

“Well, you’re something.”

Wanda shook her head, but smiled too.

“All right, kids. Wash your hands and come to the table.”

They sat down at the table.

Terrence with Nola, Wanda with Pierce, Greer, Willow, and Lawrence.

I took my place at the head of the table, the place that had once belonged to Lloyd.

“Looks delicious,” Pierce remarked, cutting himself a large piece of steak.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a surge of pride. “I tried.”

“So, what are we celebrating?”

Nola asked, cutting off a small piece of meat. She was always on a diet.

“Nothing special,” I hesitated. “Just wanted to talk about something important.”

“Don’t drag it out, okay?”

Terrence winked. “Nola and I have movie tickets for 8:30.”

“And we have to put the kids to bed,” added Wanda. “It’s a school day tomorrow.”

I nodded, feeling my heart sink.

Even now at this special dinner, they were in a hurry to leave.

“By the way, Wanda, have you heard about the Patterson House?” Terrence perked up. “They’re selling it for 450,000. Can you imagine?”

“Really?”

Wanda raised her eyebrows. “But it’s not worth more than 300.”

“Exactly.” Terrence laughed. “They’re crazy. No one will buy it.”

“I don’t know,” Pierce said thoughtfully. “It’s a nice neighborhood. Schools are nearby. Maybe there’s a buyer out there.”

“If we had that kind of money,” Nola sighed. “I’d prefer a house in Riverside. It’s more prestigious.”

“I agree.”

Wanda nodded. “But we need something more modest. Maybe after the raise I was promised.”

“You want to move?”

I couldn’t hide my surprise.

They had never mentioned it before.

“Come on, Mom. We can’t live here forever,” Terrence said as if it were obvious. “The kids need more space, and so do Nola and I.”

“But there are four bedrooms,” I pointed out.

“A big yard, big, and outdated utilities and a leaky roof.”

And Wanda fell silent, apparently realizing she’d hurt my feelings.

“Anyway, we’ll have to move on someday.”

“I understand,” I said quietly, although I didn’t really understand.

Why were they discussing moving but continuing to live with me?

Why weren’t they saving up for their own place instead of spending money on restaurants and movies?

“What did you want to talk about, Mom?” Terrence asked, steering the conversation back to where it had been.

I took a deep breath.

“We got a utility bill yesterday. $3,700.”

Silence fell at the table.

Terrence froze with his fork in his hand.

Wanda frowned and Pierce and Nola exchanged glances.

“$3,700?” Wanda asked. “How is that possible?”

“The bills haven’t been paid for 3 months,” I said, looking at Terrence. “You said you’d take care of it, remember?”

Terrence grimaced and put down his fork.

“Damn right. I’m sorry, Mom. I completely forgot. I had some urgent expenses and I—”

“You spent the money on bills.”

Wanda’s voice sounded incredulous.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Terrence defended himself. “It was just an unforeseen circumstance and it doesn’t matter.”

“Nola interrupted him. What are we going to do now? Will they cut off our electricity?”

“No.”

I shook my head. “I already paid.”

“You paid?”

Terrence looked at me in surprise. “Where did you get the money?”

“It was my savings.”

I replied quietly.

“All my savings.”

Silence again.

They were digesting the information, looking at their plates or the ceiling, but not at me.

“Well, thank you, Mom,” Terrence finally said. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“We’ll all help,” Wanda added. “It’s our shared responsibility.”

I nodded, not believing a word.

“How many times had they promised to pay back or help? And how many times had they kept their promises?”

“But you know, Mom,” Terrence continued. “Maybe this is a sign.”

“A sign?”

I didn’t understand what he meant.

“Well, that it’s time for a change,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “You’re not getting any younger. You’re on your feet all day, and you have the kids to take care of.”

“Terance means”

Wanda interjected that maybe you should think about a different lifestyle.

“A different lifestyle?”

I felt anxiety rising inside me.

“There are excellent retirement homes.”

Nola decided to add her two cents. “My aunt moved into one last year. They have all the amenities, medical staff, activities.”

“You want me to move into a nursing home?”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Not a nursing home, a retirement home,” Terrence corrected me. “It’s completely different.”

“But this is my home,” I said, gesturing around the room. “Lloyd’s in my home.”

“Dad’s been gone for 4 years,” Wanda said gently. “And you can’t manage such a big house on your own.”

“I’m not alone,” I objected. “You’re all here.”

“Exactly.” Terrence nodded. “And we can see how hard it is for you. All the cooking, cleaning, work. You’d get some rest at the retirement home.”

“And we’d visit you,” added Wanda.

“Every week or every other week,” muttered Pierce, earning a reproachful look from his wife.

I couldn’t believe what was happening.

They wanted to get rid of me.

Evict me from my own home after everything I’d done for them.

“What will happen to the house?”

I asked already knowing the answer.

“Well, we could stay here,” Terrence began uncertainly.

“Look after it while you—”

“until I die,” I finished for him. “And then the house will be yours.”

“Mom,” Wanda exclaimed. “That’s not what we’re thinking. We’re worried about you.”

“Really?”

I felt anger rising inside me.

“You worry about me when you forget to pay the bills. When you make me cancel plans with my only friend to babysit your kids? when you borrow money until payday and never pay me back.”

“That’s not fair.” Terrence looked offended. “We sacrifice a lot, too. Do you think it’s easy for us to live all together in one house?”

“In my house,” I clarified. “In the house I just paid $3,700 of my savings for.”

“Mom, you’re upset. We understand.”

Wanda tried to take control of the situation. “Let’s talk about this when everyone is calmed down.”

“No.”

I shook my head. “Let’s talk now. You’ve been living in my house for four years. You promised it was temporary. I cook, clean, babysit, work, pay the bills, and now you’re telling me I have to move into a retirement home so it’s more convenient for you.”

“You’ve got this all wrong.”

Terrence looked annoyed. “We’re doing this for your own good.”

“For my own good?”

I laughed bitterly.

“You know what would be good for me? If you would finally grow up and start living on your own. If you respected me in my home, if you saw me as a person, not a free babysitter and ATM.”

“We respect you, Mom.”

Wanda looked hurt.

“But you’re becoming difficult. You complain all the time, criticize, are dissatisfied.”

“I’m dissatisfied.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

“When was the last time I complained? When was the last time I criticized?”

“Right now,” Pierce muttered. “And to be honest, it’s exhausting.”

“Pierce,” Wanda scolded him, but then sighed.

“He’s right, Mom. You’ve been unhappy a lot lately. Maybe it’s your age, maybe it’s fatigue, but it’s hard to be around you.”

“And it’s not good for the kids,” added Nola. “They can sense the tension.”

I looked at my grandchildren who were silently watching the adults argument.

Greer looked bored, Willow looked scared, and Lawrence was just picking at his plate.

“So maybe it really is for the best,” Terrence concluded. “You’ll be more comfortable at the boarding house and we—”

“and you’ll stay in my house,”

I finished. “Until we find something of our own,” he nodded. “I think it’ll be better for everyone.”

“Better for everyone?”

I echoed, feeling something inside me break completely.

“Thanks for dinner, Mom.”

Wanda said, getting up from the table. “But we have to put the kids to bed. They have school tomorrow.”

“We’re going to the movies,” Terrence said, also standing up. “The movie starts in 40 minutes.”

“Of course,” I nodded. “Go on.”

They left.

Wanda with the kids upstairs.

Terrence with Nola outside.

Only Pierce remained at the table finishing his dessert.

“Don’t take it to heart, Merrill,” he said with his mouth full. “They really want what’s best.”

“Best for whom?” I asked quietly.

He shrugged, finished his pie, and left too, leaving me alone at the table surrounded by halfeaten dishes and extinguished candles.

I began to clear the table mechanically on autopilot.

I put the leftovers in containers, washed the dishes, and wiped the tabletop.

My head was empty.

Too many emotions for one day.

Too much betrayal.

When I was done with the kitchen, I went up to my room.

I sat down on the bed and just stared at the wall.

The house was quiet.

Wanda had probably put the kids to bed, and Pice was probably watching TV in their room.

Terrence and Nola were gone.

Thank you.

Now leave.

We don’t need you anymore.

That’s what they basically told me today.

After all the years of caring, after all the sacrifices, I paid off their debts and in gratitude, they want to kick me out of my own home.

I lay down fully clothed on top of the blanket.

Sleep would not come.

Fragments of today’s conversation, memories of the past, thoughts about the future swirled in my head.

What should I do?

Where should I go?

How can I go on?

I imagined myself in a retirement home, a small room surrounded by strangers with rare visits from my children who would come out of a sense of duty rather than love.

No.

That’s not a life.

Not the life I want.

Then I remembered Lloyd.

What would he say if he saw how his children treated me?

He had always been a stricter parent than I was.

“Don’t let them walk all over you, Merl.”

He used to say, “They have to respect you.”

Respect.

When was the last time my children showed me respect?

When did they last see me as a person, not an appendage to the house?

It was 2:00 in the morning when I heard Terrence and Nola come home.

They didn’t try to be quiet.

They talked loudly, laughed, slammed doors.

They didn’t care if I was trying to sleep.

Of course, they didn’t.

I’m invisible to them.

A ghost in my own home.

But this can’t go on.

Something has to change, and it seems that only I can change it.

I spent the rest of the night with this thought, sleepless, anxious, and pensive.

Morning found me with red eyes and a firm resolve in my heart.

It was time to do something.

Morning came suddenly.

I didn’t notice how I had dozed off at dawn.

I woke up to the sound of the front door slamming and the loud voices of children getting ready for school.

The clock showed 7:30.

I should have gotten up an hour ago, made breakfast for everyone, and packed lunches for my grandchildren.

But today, no one woke me up.

No one knocked on the door or called for help.

They managed on their own for the first time in a long time.

I slowly got out of bed, feeling my whole body ache after a restless night.

I washed, got dressed, and went down to the kitchen.

The usual morning chaos rained there.

Dirty dishes in the sink, crumbs on the table, spilled juice on the floor, but the house was empty.

Everyone was already gone.

There was a note on the refrigerator in Wanda’s handwriting.

Took the kids to school. We’ll be back in the evening.

No, good morning.

No, how are you?

Not even thanks for dinner last night.

Just information.

We’re gone.

We’ll be back.

We don’t need you.

It was as if our conversation yesterday had never happened.

I mechanically began to clear the table but suddenly stopped.

Why?

Why should I clean up after them?

Why should I cook, do laundry, and be an invisible servant in my own home?

Yesterday’s conversation stirred something deep inside me.

A sense of selfworth that I had almost lost over the years.

I left the mess in the kitchen, grabbed my bag, and left the house.

Today was my day off from the store, but I had one important thing to do.

I had to meet Lety.

We agreed to meet at the morning due, a small, cozy place in downtown Wabash that served the best blueberry muffins in the area.

Lety was already waiting for me at our usual table by the window.

I hadn’t seen her in almost 2 weeks.

I had constantly canled our meetings due to family obligations.

“Merl.”

She waved at me and I couldn’t help but smile.

Lety Bramble, my best friend from college, a former school teacher, now an energetic 70-year-old widow with short gray hair and her trademark bright scarves.

“You look terrible,” she said when I sat down across from her.

Straightforwardness had always been her trademark.

“What happened?”

I opened my mouth to say nothing, as I usually did, but unexpectedly, I burst into tears right there in the cafe in front of all the other patrons.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I couldn’t stop them.

Letty silently handed me a napkin and called the waitress.

“Two coffees and blueberry muffins, please, and bring some water.”

When the waitress left, Letty leaned toward me.

“Tell me everything.”

And I told her about the bills, about the savings I had spent, about yesterday’s dinner, about the offer to move into a retirement home, about how my children, my own children, were effectively kicking me out of my home.

“Those people,”

Letty cursed when I finished. “I’m sorry, Merl, but your children are ungrateful freeloaders.”

“They weren’t always like that.”

I tried to defend them, even though I didn’t believe my own words.

“Maybe they weren’t,” Letty agreed. “But they are now. And you know why? Because you let them.”

“What was I supposed to do? Kick my own children out onto the street?”

“Not kick them out, but set rules, boundaries, demand respect.”

Lety took a sip of coffee.

“I told you this four years ago when they first moved in. Temporary, remember?”

I nodded.

Of course I remembered.

They all said it wouldn’t be for long.

“You’re too kind, Merl. You always have been.”

Lety shook her head.

“But kindness without self-respect isn’t kindness. It’s self-destruction.”

She was right, and I knew it.

Deep down, I always knew I was letting my children use me.

But admitting it out loud was scary.

“What should I do, Letty?”

I felt completely lost.

“Where would I go? I don’t have money for another place. I have almost no savings.”

“Why do you need another place?”

Letty looked at me as if I were crazy. “It’s your house. It’s yours by law. You can evict them, not the other way around.”

“Evict.”

My own children.

“Yes.”

Lety was adamant. “They’re grown adults. Mural. They have jobs, income. They can rent an apartment. And you deserve to live in your home in peace and respect.”

“But how?”

The thought of evicting my children seemed both frightening and liberating.

“You need a lawyer.”

Lety took a notebook out of her bag and began leafing through it.

“And I know a great one, Hadley Drummond. He helped my niece in a similar situation.”

Now she found the right page and wrote the number on a napkin.

“Here, call him. Just get some advice. Find out your rights. It doesn’t commit you to anything.”

I took the napkin with the number, feeling as if I were holding a grenade with the pin pulled out.

“I don’t know, Letty. It seems so drastic.”

“Doesn’t the fact that they want to evict you seem radical?”

She snorted angrily.

“Listen, I’m not saying you have to do it right now, but it’s good to know your rights anyway.”

She was right.

As always, knowledge is power.

Even if I didn’t use the information, it would be useful to have it.

“Okay,”

I nodded.

“I’ll call him.”

“That’s great.”

Lety smiled and covered my hand with hers.

“And remember, Muriel, you’re not alone. Whatever happens, I’m here for you. My guest room is always open if you need it.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling tears welling up in my eyes again.

But this time they were tears of gratitude.

After meeting with Lety, I didn’t go home.

Instead, I headed to a small park nearby and sat down on a bench.

I took out my phone and the napkin with Hadley Drummond’s number on it.

I stared at the numbers for a long time, fighting my doubts.

Was I really ready to take this step?

Evict my own children, my grandchildren, but what alternative did I have?

move into a retirement home, give them the house, live on the charity of their rare visits.

Most likely, they would quickly forget about me just as they had forgotten their promises to help around the house, just as they had forgotten to pay the bills.

I dialed the number before I could change my mind.

After the third ring, a man’s voice answered.

“Drumman Law Office, how can I help you?”

“Hello?”

My voice trembled. “My name is Merl Froggit. I need advice on a family matter.”

One moment, there was a pause, then Mr. Drummond can see you today at 2:00. Would that suit you?

I looked at my watch.

It was 11 in the morning.

I had plenty of time.

“Yes, thank you. Where is your office located?”

I wrote down the address, thanked him, and hung up.

My heart was pounding as if I had just done something illegal.

But that wasn’t the case.

I had simply decided to find out my rights.

That didn’t mean I would necessarily exercise them, or would I?

I had 3 hours to kill.

I decided to spend them at the city library, a quiet, peaceful place where I could gather my thoughts.

I picked up a random book from the shelf and sat down in a soft armchair in the corner of the reading room, but I couldn’t concentrate on the text.

My thoughts kept returning to yesterday’s conversation, to Letty’s words, to the upcoming meeting with the lawyer.

How did we get to this point?

How did my relationship with my children turn into such a nightmare?

I always thought I was doing everything right, supporting them, helping them, sacrificing my own interests for their well-being.

Isn’t that what good mothers do?

But maybe I was wrong.

Maybe true love isn’t just about support, but also about setting boundaries.

Not just sacrifice, but self-respect.

Maybe by allowing my children to treat me like a servant, I wasn’t actually helping them become better people, but encouraging their selfishness.

At quarter to 2, I left the library and headed for Hadley Drummond’s office.

It was located in a small two-story building on Main Street, old but well preserved, with a brass plaque at the entrance that read, “Hadley Drummond, attorney at law.”

Inside, I was greeted by a young woman at the reception desk.

“Miss Frogat, Mr. Drummond is expecting you. Please come in.”

She led me into an office where a man of about 55 with graying dark hair and attentive gray eyes sat behind a massive wooden desk.

“Mrs. Frogat,” he said, standing up and extending his hand. “Hadley Drummond, please have a seat.”

I sat down in the chair opposite him, feeling awkward and uncertain.

I had never dealt with lawyers before.

“How can I help you?”

He asked when I was settled.

And I told him again the whole story about Lloyd’s death, about how the children had moved out temporarily, about how I had gradually become invisible in my own home, about yesterday’s offer to move into a retirement home.

Hadley Drummond listened attentively, occasionally making notes in his notebook.

When I finished, he asked a few clarifying questions.

“Is the house in your name?”

“Yes, in my name and Lloyd’s. After he died, I became the sole owner.”

“Are there any written agreements with the children about their living arrangements? A lease, a cohabitation agreement?”

“No, nothing like that. They just moved out.”

“Do they pay any rent, help with the mortgage or utilities?”

“They give me a little money sometimes, but not regularly. I pay for everything myself mostly.”

He nodded, made a final note, then put down his pen and looked at me.

“Mrs. Froget, from a legal standpoint, the situation is quite simple. The house belongs to you. Your children are adults living with you without a formal lease agreement. Legally, they are considered tenants with an informal agreement, and you have every right to terminate that agreement.”

“So, evict them.”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “To do that, you need to give them formal notice of eviction. In our state, the minimum notice period is 30 days. After that, if they don’t leave voluntarily, you can go to court to have them evicted.”

He spoke so calmly, so matterof factly, as if he were talking about strangers, not my children and grandchildren.

“That seems so cruel,” I muttered.

“Cruel?”

Hadley Drummond raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Mrs. Frogat, let me ask you a question. If your children were your tenants, not paying rent, making a mess, treating you with disrespect, and now wanted you to move out of your own home, would you consider it cruel to ask them to find another place to live?”

I was silent.

He was right, of course.

If it were anyone else but my children, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

“Listen,” his voice softened. “I understand that this is a difficult decision. We’re talking about your children, your relationship with them. But sometimes you have to set boundaries to keep a relationship healthy.”

“What if they hate me?”

That fear had haunted me from the beginning.

“They may be angry for a while,” he admitted. “But if they really love you, they’ll understand that you have a right to respect and space. And if they don’t, then maybe you need to think about whether you want to continue a relationship that makes you unhappy.”

I thought about his words.

Did I want to continue living like this?

Being invisible, a servant, an ATM?

No, definitely not.

“What do I need to do?”

I finally asked.

“For starters, I can prepare a formal eviction notice,” he said, opening a desk drawer and taking out a folder with forms. “It will look something like this.”

He showed me a sample document.

It was a dry, formal text notifying me that I had to vacate the premises within 30 days.

“If you want, I can fill it out right now and you can sign it or take some time to think about it.”

I looked at the form, feeling conflicting emotions battling inside me.

Fear, uncertainty, guilt, but also anger, resentment, and yes, a desire for justice.

“What if I change my mind after signing?”

I asked.

“You can withdraw the notice at any time,” he replied. “That’s your right. No one can force you to evict someone from your home if you don’t want to.”

That calmed me down a little.

I could back out if I decided I had gone too far.

“Okay,”

I nodded. “Let’s fill it out.”

Hadley Drummond nodded and began filling out the form, occasionally asking me for details, the children’s full names, the exact address, the date they moved in.

I answered mechanically, still not quite believing I was doing this.

here.

He handed me the completed document.

“Check that everything is correct and sign here if you agree.”

I read the text carefully.

It was an official notice to Terrence Frogat, Nola Frogat, Vanda Atterly, and Pierce Atly that they had to vacate the premises at 84 Maple Street, Wabash within 30 days of receiving the notice.

My hand trembled as I picked up the pen.

Was I really ready for this?

Was this a mistake?

Would I regret it later?

But then I remembered yesterday’s conversation.

Thank you.

Now go away.

We don’t need you anymore.

That’s what they had essentially told me.

After all the years of caring, after all the sacrifices, I signed the document.

“Excellent,” said Hadley Drummond, making a copy and handing me the original.

“Now you need to deliver this notice to each of them personally or leave it in a conspicuous place in the house. I recommend the first option so that there is no dispute later about whether they receive the notice or not.”

“What if they just ignore it?”

I asked.

“or refuse to move out.”

“Then after 30 days, we will file for eviction,” he replied. “But it usually doesn’t get that far. Most people prefer to move out voluntarily to avoid court costs and having an eviction on their credit history.”

I nodded, although the thought of going to court made me nervous.

“Don’t worry,” said Hadley Drummond as if reading my mind. “The law is on your side. And remember, this is your home. You have the right to live there in peace and respect.”

“How much do I owe you for the consultation?”

I asked, opening my purse.

“The first consultation is free,” he smiled. “If you decide to move forward and need my help with the court, then we’ll discuss the fee.”

I thanked him and left the office, clutching the eviction notice in my hand.

It was sunny and warm outside, but inside me a storm of emotions was raging.

What had I just done?

Was it the right thing to do?

Wasn’t it too radical?

I walked through the streets of Wabash, oblivious to my surroundings, completely immersed in my thoughts.

Almost unconsciously, my feet carried me to Letty’s house.

She opened the door, saw my face, and let me in without a word.

“Tea?”

She asked, leading me into the kitchen.

“Yes, please,”

I said, sinking into a chair, still holding the notice in my hand.

Lety put the kettle on and sat down across from me.

“Did you see a lawyer?”

I nodded and placed the document on the table.

She picked it up, read it, and nodded.

“Good. That’s the first step.”

“I don’t know, Letty.”

My voice trembled.

“Am I doing the right thing? Isn’t it too cruel?”

“Cruel?”

She snorted.

“Cruel is when your own children want to evict you from your own home. Cruel is when they use you as a free babysitter and ATM and then say you’re in their way. What you’re doing isn’t cruel, Merl. It’s self-defense.”

I knew she was right.

But it was still scary.

Scary to lose my last connection to my family.

To be truly alone.

“What if they hate me?”

I voiced my biggest fear.

“If they hate you for standing up for yourself, then sorry to be blunt. They didn’t love you very much to begin with.”

Lety was brutally honest as always.

“True love includes respect, Mural. And that’s exactly what’s missing in your relationship.”

The kettle boiled and Letty got up to make tea.

I looked at her back straight and upright despite her 70 years.

Lety always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.

She had lived with her husband for 40 years in love and respect.

And after his death, she continued to live a full life, traveling, learning Spanish, singing in a choir.

She never let her children or grandchildren push her around, and they loved and respected her for it.

“Could I be like that? Could I find the strength to stand up for my rights, my dignity?”

“You know what the hardest part is?”

I said when Lety put a cup of tea in front of me.

“It’s not the eviction itself. It’s the realization that I let it happen, that I’m to blame.”

“Well, that’s partly true.”

Lety didn’t try to comfort me with lies.

“You let them walk all over you for too long, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fix things. It’s never too late to start respecting yourself, Merrill.”

“But how am I supposed to give them this notice?”

I looked at the document lying on the table.

“What should I say?”

“The truth.”

Lety shrugged.

“that you love them, but you can’t live like this anymore. That the house belongs to you and you want to live there in peace and respect. That it’s time for them to get on their feet and live independently like adults.”

It sounded so simple coming from her, but I knew the conversation would be difficult.

They would be angry, blame me, maybe even threaten me.

Was I ready for that?

“What if I chicken out?”

I asked quietly.

“You won’t,”

Letty replied confidently.

“You’re stronger than you think, Merl. You always have been. You just forgot.”

I took a sip of tea, feeling the warm liquid warm me from the inside.

Maybe Letty was right.

Maybe I really was stronger than I thought.

After all, I had survived the death of my husband, found a job at 64, and supported a large house and family.

Didn’t that take strength?

“Thank you, Letty.”

I smiled at her.

“for the tea, for your support, for always telling me the truth. Even when I don’t want to hear it.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she winked at me. “And remember, no matter what happens, you’re not alone. My door is always open for you.”

I finished my tea and we talked a little more about Letty’s choir, the new book she was reading, the weather and grocery prices, ordinary everyday topics that helped me calm down a little and collect my thoughts.

When I left, the sun was already setting.

Soon the children would be home and I would have to make the most difficult decision of my life.

“Good luck.”

Lety hugged me goodbye and “call me when it’s over.”

I walked home clutching the eviction notice in my hand, feeling my resolve grow with every step.

For years I had been invisible in my own home, a shadow, a servant, an ATM.

But today, everything would change.

Today I would become Merurl Frogad again.

A woman who knew her worth and wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself.

It would be difficult, painful, scary, but necessary for them and for me.

Because true love is not just about sacrifice and compromise.

It’s also about boundaries, respect, and dignity.

I came home and sat down in the living room, placing the eviction notice on the coffee table in front of me.

The children would be home in an hour and then I would do what I should have done long ago.

Take back my home and my life.

I sat in the living room clutching the official eviction notice in my hands, listening to the ticking of the wall clock.

Every minute brought me closer to the moment when I would have to take the most difficult step in my life.

Doubts, fears, fragments of yesterday’s conversation, and the advice of Lety and Hadley Drummond swirled in my head.

Was I doing the right thing?

Wasn’t it too cruel?

Was there another way out?

But the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that there was no other way out.

My children had long forgotten what respect meant.

They took me for granted, like a free addition to the home they considered their own.

And if I don’t put an end to this now, I’ll soon find myself in a retirement home, lonely and forgotten.

And the front door slammed and I flinched.

I heard voices.

Wanda and Pierce were back with the children.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

It wasn’t time yet.

I had to wait for Terrence and Nola to come back.

All of them.

“Mom, are you home?”

Wanda’s voice came from the hallway.

“Yes, I’m in the living room,” I replied, hiding the notification under a sofa cushion.

Wanda peaked into the room, holding grocery bags in her hands.

“Oh, there you are. We stopped by the supermarket. We’re out of milk and cereal and I bought chicken for dinner.

Do you mind cooking?

I have reports to finish tonight.”

Typical Wanda.

Not even a question, but a statement.

Of course, I’ll cook.

I always cook.

Okay.

I got up from the couch, telling myself that this was the last time, the last dinner I would cook for them as their free cook.

In the kitchen, Wanda was unloading the groceries.

PICE had already gone upstairs and the kids had disappeared into their rooms, leaving their backpacks and jackets in the hallway.

“How was your day?”

I asked, starting to cut up the chicken.

“The usual,”

Wanda shrugged. “Meeting with a client, then the office, then picking up the kids from school.”

“How are the kids? How are they doing in school?”

“Fine,”

she waved me off and glanced at her watch.

“Listen, I have to get back to work. Call me when dinner’s ready.”

Without waiting for an answer, she left.

I was left alone in the kitchen, mechanically cutting vegetables for a side dish.

How long had it been since my children had really talked to me?

When had our conversations been reduced to short instructions and reports?

An hour later, Terrence and Nola returned.

I heard them come in talking animatedly to each other.

Then their voices faded away.

Apparently, they had gone upstairs without even stopping in the kitchen to say hello.

Dinner was ready at 7:00.

I set the table, called everyone, and took my place at the head of the table.

When everyone was gathered, Terrence and Nola, Wanda and Pierce, Greer, Willow and Lawrence, I felt a lump in my throat.

This was the last dinner we would have together, the last time I would look at them as a family living under one roof.

“Looks delicious, Mom.”

Terrence remarked, helping himself to a large portion.

“Thank you.”

I smiled stiffly.

They ate, chatting about work, school, mutual acquaintances.

I hardly participated in the conversation, and no one seemed to notice.

I was like a piece of furniture, a table, a chair, a sideboard, just part of the decor.

When they were almost finished, I cleared my throat and said, “I need to talk to you, all of you.”

There must have been something in my voice that made them fall silent and pay attention to me.

Terrence raised his eyebrows.

Wanda frowned and Nola and Pierce exchanged quick glances.

“Is something wrong?”

Wanda asked.

“Yes,”

I said, getting up and going into the living room to get the notice.

“When I returned, I placed four copies on the table.”

“These are for you.”

Terrence took one sheet, scanned the text, and his face changed.

“What is this?”

His voice rose in surprise.

“An eviction notice,”

I replied calmly, although I was trembling inside.

“You have 30 days to find another place to live and move out.”

For a few seconds, there was complete silence at the table.

Wanda grabbed her copy and Nola and Pierce followed suit.

The children looked at the adults in confusion, sensing that something serious was happening.

“Is this a joke?”

Wanda laughed nervously. “Mom, are you kidding?”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“I’m completely serious.”

“But but we’re your children.”

Terrence looked as if I had slapped him.

“You can’t evict your own children.”

“I can.”

I tried to speak evenly. “This is my house. You’re grown adults with jobs and incomes. You can rent an apartment or buy your own place.”

“Is this because of yesterday’s conversation?”

Wanda was beginning to understand. “because we suggested you move into a retirement home. Mom, we’re just looking out for you.”

“Really?”

I looked her straight in the eye.

“You care about me when you forget to pay the bills? When you make me cook, clean, babysit, but don’t even say thank you. When you treat me like a servant in my own home?”

“You’re being unfair.”

Terrence shook his head.

“We’re grateful for everything you do.”

“Yes.”

“And how do you show that gratitude?”

I couldn’t hide the bitterness in my voice. “by suggesting I move into a nursing home so you can live in my house more comfortably.”

“A retirement home isn’t a nursing home,”

Nola interjected. “It’s completely different.”

“It’s not my home,”

I snapped.

“And it never will be.

My home is here and I’m staying here.”

“What about the children?”

Wanda brought out the heavy artillery. “Are you throwing your own grandchildren out onto the street?”

I looked at my grandchildren.

Greer rolled her eyes demonstratively.

Willow looked confused and Lawrence continued to pick at his food, not particularly interested in the adult conversation.

“I’m not kicking anyone out,”

I replied calmly.

“You have 30 days to find a new place to live.

That’s more than enough time.”

“You can’t do this.”

Terrence raised his voice.

“This is our home, too. We grew up here.”

“Yes.”

And then you grew up, moved away, and started your own families, I reminded him.

And then you came back temporarily four years ago.

I think the temporary stay has gone on long enough.

“But we’re a family.”

Wanda was almost shouting.

“Family should stick together.”

“Family is mutual respect and support,”

I replied.

“Not using each other.

You’re using me, Wanda.

You, Terrence, Nola, Pierce, all of you.

I’m not your mother and grandmother.

I’m your free housekeeper and ATM.”

“That’s not true.”

Terrence slammed his fist on the table.

“We love you.”

“Love me?”

I smiled bitterly.

“Then why in four years have you never once asked me what I want?

Why have you never once asked me about my plans, my dreams, my desires?

Why do you think it’s okay that I work, cook, clean, sit with the children, and you don’t even say thank you?”

They were silent, avoiding my gaze because they knew I was right.

“Grandma, don’t you love us anymore?”

Willow asked quietly, and my heart sank.

“I love you very much, dear,”

I looked at my granddaughter.

“All of you, and I always will.

But that doesn’t mean I have to let you treat me with disrespect.”

“That’s not fair,”

Greer blurted out suddenly.

“You’re just selfish.

You only think about yourself.”

“Greer,”

Wanda scolded her, but without much conviction.

“What, Gr? Grandma wants to kick us out because she suddenly wants to live alone. That’s selfish.”

“No, Gr.”

I shook my head.

“Selfishness is thinking that other people should sacrifice their interest for your convenience.

That’s what you think now.”

The girl pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Mom, let’s calm down and talk this through.”

Terrence changed tactics.

“I understand you’re upset. We all said some things we shouldn’t have yesterday, but that’s no reason to make such drastic decisions.”

“This isn’t a spontaneous decision, Terrence.”

I looked him straight in the eye.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, a very long time.

And yesterday’s conversation was just the last straw.”

“What did we do wrong?”

Wanda looked almost genuinely puzzled.

“Tell us and we’ll fix it.”

“It’s not about any one thing,”

I sighed.

“It’s about the overall attitude.

You don’t see me, Wanda.

You don’t notice me.

To you, I’m a function, not a person.

It can’t go on like this.”

“And you’re just kicking us out.”

Terrence still couldn’t believe it.

“After everything we’ve been through together,”

“I’m asking you to move out and start your own lives.”

I corrected myself.

“like adults.

It doesn’t mean we’ll stop talking or seeing each other.

Just everyone in their own home.”

They were silent, processing the information.

I could see different emotions flash across their faces.

Disbelief, hurt, anger, fear.

“Mom, you can’t be serious.”

Terrence finally said, “We’re your family. Your only family.”

“Yes, you’re my family.”

I agreed.

“And you always will be, but that doesn’t mean we have to live under the same roof.

Especially if living together makes me unhappy.”

“Living with us makes you unhappy.”

Wanda looked genuinely shocked.

“With your own children and grandchildren?”

“What makes me unhappy is how you treat me?”

I clarified.

“The fact that I feel invisible in my own home.

the fact that my life has become an endless service to your needs without a shred of gratitude or respect.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

Terrence shook his head.

“We don’t treat you badly.”

“Really?”

I looked at him.

“Then why did you decide you could kick me out of my house?

Why do you think it’s okay for me to move into a retirement home while you stay here?”

They fell silent again, not knowing what to say.

“Listen, Mom.”

Wanda tried to take my hand, but I pulled away.

“Let’s not make any rash decisions. We’re all upset and confused. Maybe we should sleep on it and discuss everything tomorrow with a clear head.”

“I’ve slept on it for many nights, Wanda,”

I replied.

“And my decision won’t change.

You have 30 days.”

“But what if we can’t find a place in 30 days?”

Terren’s voice sounded panicked.

“You’re not going to throw us out on the street, are you?”

“I’m sure you’ll find something,”

I said calmly.

“If you really try.”

“And if we don’t,”

he insisted.

“then we’ll have to settle it in court,”

I said, trying to sound confident, even though the thought of a legal battle with my own children was painful.

“You’d take us to court?”

Wanda looked shocked.

“Your own children?”

“I hope it won’t come to that,”

I said honestly.

“But I won’t back down, Wanda.

Not this time.”

“I can’t believe this,”

Pierce muttered.

“I just can’t.”

“Believe me,”

I looked at him.

“and start looking for a place to live.

Time is running out.”

They looked at me with disbelief, resentment, anger, but I could see that they were beginning to understand that I was serious.

“Fine,”

Terrence finally said, rising from the table.

“If that’s what you’ve decided, we’ll find a place and we’ll move out.

But don’t think we’ll forget this, Mom.”

“I don’t want you to forget,”

I replied calmly.

“I want you to understand there’s a difference.”

He shook his head and left the room.

Nola followed him, giving me a disapproving look.

“You’re making a mistake, Mom,”

Wanda said sadly, looking at me.

“You’ll be all alone.”

“Better to be alone than to feel lonely, surrounded by family,”

I replied quietly.

She sighed and stood up, too.

“Let’s go, Pierce. We need to talk to the kids.”

When they left, I remained sitting at the table, surrounded by halfeaten dishes and empty plates.

I had done it.

I had really done it.

I had handed my own children their eviction notice and the world didn’t collapse.

The sky didn’t fall down.

I was still breathing.

My heart was still beating.

I started clearing the table mechanically on autopilot.

I put the leftovers in containers, washed the dishes, wiped the countertop.

My head was empty.

Too many emotions for one evening.

Muffled voices came from the children’s rooms upstairs.

Wanda and Pierce were probably explaining the situation to the kids.

Excited voices could also be heard from Terrence and Nola’s room.

They were probably discussing me, my betrayal, my ingratitude.

Let them let them say whatever they want.

I know I’m doing the right thing for them and for myself.

When I was done in the kitchen, I went up to my room.

I sat down on the bed and just stared at the wall, digesting everything that had happened.

I felt empty, but strangely free.

It was as if I had shed a heavy burden that I had been carrying for years.

The sound of the door opening made me jump.

Standing in the doorway was Willow, my middle granddaughter, with a serious expression on her face.

“Grandma, can I come in?”

She asked quietly.

“Of course, dear,”

I patted the bed next to me.

She sat down, twisting the edge of her t-shirt.

“Mom said we have to move out. That you’re kicking us out.”

“I’m not kicking you out, Willow.”

I corrected her gently.

“I’m asking your parents to find their own place like adults should do.”

“But why?”

She looked at me with her big eyes.

“Don’t you like living with us?”

I sighed.

How do you explain complicated adult relationships to a 10-year-old?

“It’s not about whether I like it or not,” I began. “It’s about every family needs their own space, their own home. It’s normal.”

“But we’re a family,”

she objected.

“We’re all family.”

“Yes, we’re family.”

I agreed.

“And we always will be.

But that doesn’t mean we have to live together.

You know, your school friends have their own homes, don’t you?

They don’t live with their grandmothers.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“So, we’ll still see each other,”

she asked after a pause.

“Of course,”

I smiled and hugged her.

“You can come visit me for dinner on weekends, on holidays, and I’ll come visit you.

It’s just everyone in their own home.”

“Mom is very angry,”

Willow confided.

“She said, “You’re selfish and only think about yourself.””

“Your mom is upset.”

I said, trying to sound calm.

“That’s normal.

Change is always scary, but with time, she’ll understand that this is better for everyone.”

“And Greer said she won’t talk to you anymore,”

Willow continued.

“She’s really hurt.”

“Greer will understand, too,”

I sighed.

“In time.”

Willow nodded and hugged me.

“I’m not mad at you, Grandma, and I’ll come visit you.

I promise.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,”

I said, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.

“That means a lot to me.”

When Willow left, I sat motionless for a long time, staring out the window at the darkening sky.

The first step had been taken, the hardest one.

What would happen next?

Would they find a place to live?

Would they ever forgive me?

Would I be left all alone, without a family, without loved ones?

But no, Letty was right.

If they really love me, they’ll understand.

And if they don’t, well then their love was never real.

I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep.

Fragments of today’s conversation swirled in my head.

Accusations, excuses, threats.

They were angry, hurt, confused.

But they had to go through this.

We all did.

Sometime around midnight, an idea struck me.

An idea that could be the decisive argument, the final nail in the coffin of their illusions that they could stay in my house.

a surprise that awaited them tomorrow.

I got out of bed, turned on the desk lamp, and took out a notebook.

I started writing, making a plan.

It wouldn’t be easy.

It would take time and effort, but it would be worth it for my future, for their future, too.

Even though they didn’t understand that yet.

When I was done with my notes, I picked up my phone and sent a message to Lety.

I did it.

I gave them the notice.

They’re in shock.

I’ll need your help tomorrow for another surprise.

I’ll call you in the morning.

Her reply came almost instantly despite the late hour.

I’m proud of you.

Call me anytime.

I’m here to help.

I smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude toward this amazing woman who had supported me when no one else had.

Maybe I would lose part of my family in this battle for self-respect, but I definitely wouldn’t be alone.

With that thought, I finally fell asleep, feeling hope and determination for the first time in many days, rather than fear and despair.

Tomorrow would be a new day and a new surprise for my children.

The morning was cloudy, but my mood was surprisingly light.

For the first time in many years, I woke up feeling in control of my own life.

During the night, my plan had finally taken shape in my mind, and now I knew exactly what to do.

I got up quietly, trying not to wake anyone.

The house was unusually quiet.

No one was rushing to work or getting ready for school.

It was Saturday, the only day when the whole family usually stayed home.

Going down to the kitchen, I started making breakfast as usual, but quickly stopped.

No, today would be different.

Today, everyone would take care of themselves.

Instead, I made myself some coffee, toasted some bread, and sat down at the kitchen table with my notebook, checking my plan one more time.

At 8:00, Letty called.

“Well, how are you?”

she asked without preamble.

“Better than I expected,”

I replied honestly.

“I’m determined.”

“Great.

So, what surprise are you planning?”

I told her my plan, and Letty whistled approvingly.

“Bold?

Very bold.

I’m in.

What time should I come over?”

“Around 3, if you can, and thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome, dear.

I always knew you had a backbone.

It’s just Rusty from Disuse.”

I smiled and said goodbye, hanging up the phone.

The next call was to Hadley Drummond.

It was Saturday, of course, but he had given me his personal number for emergencies, and this was definitely an emergency.

To my surprise, he answered right away.

“Mrs. Frogat, is something wrong?”

“I’m sorry to bother you on your day off,”

I said, feeling a little embarrassed, “but I need your help today.”

I explained what I had in mind, and he was silent for a few seconds.

“Are you sure you want to do this?

It’s a radical step.”

“I’m sure,”

I replied firmly.

“It’s the only way to show them that I’m serious, that this is my home and my life.”

“All right,”

he agreed.

“I can be there by 3.

I’ll prepare all the necessary documents.”

My next call was to the local real estate agency.

Brooke Holloway, whom I had met at the store, worked there as a realtor.

After explaining the situation, I arranged to meet her in an hour.

By 10:00, my family began to appear in the kitchen.

Wanda and Pierce were the first to come downstairs.

Seeing me at the table with coffee, but without the usual cooking, they exchanged surprised glances.

“Good morning,”

Wanda said dryly.

“Where’s breakfast?”

“Good morning.”

I smiled.

“Everyone makes their own breakfast.

Coffee’s in the coffee pot.

Breads in the bread box.

Eggs are in the fridge.

Can you manage?”

Wanda looked as if I had asked her to cook breakfast out of raw frogs.

“Seriously?”

She shook her head.

“You’re really mad at us.”

“I’m not mad, Wanda.”

I replied calmly.

“I’m just not going to wait on you all anymore.

You’re grown adults, perfectly capable of making your own toast and eggs.”

Piers snorted and headed for the refrigerator while Wanda remained standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

“So, you’re serious about kicking us out?”

she asked.

“I’m serious about getting my house and my life back,”

I replied.

“And yes, that means you’ll have to find another place to live.”

“By the way, I want everyone to gather in the living room at 3:00 today.

I have an important announcement to make.”

“What announcement?”

Wanda asked suspiciously.

“You’ll find out at 3,”

I said, finishing my coffee and getting up.

“Now, excuse me.

I have things to do in town.”

I left the kitchen, feeling Wanda’s gaze piercing my back.

In the hallway, I bumped into Terrence, who was coming down the stairs.

“Mom, are you leaving?”

He looked surprised.

“Yes, I have a meeting,”

I said, putting on my coat.

“I’ll be back for dinner.

And by the way, everyone needs to be in the living room at 3:00.

I have an important announcement to make.”

“What kind of announcement?”

He frowned.

“You’ll find out at 3:00,”

I repeated and left, leaving him puzzled.

Brook Holloway greeted me at the real estate agency with a professional smile.

“Mrs. Froggit, it’s good to see you.

How can I help you?”

“I want to sell my house,”

I said bluntly.

“and I need your help to do it quickly and without any fuss.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure.

“Of course, I can help, but selling a house is not a quick process.

Appraisal, listing, showings, negotiations.”

“I know,”

I nodded.

“But I need your help with something else.

I need you to come to my house today as a potential buyer and pretend that we’ve already agreed on the sale.”

Brooke looked at me in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

I sighed and explained the situation about the children, the eviction notice, and how I wanted to show them that I was serious.

“That’s an unusual request,”

she said cautiously.

“I know,”

I nodded.

“And I realize I’m asking a lot, but I really need your help.

I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

Brooke thought about it, tapping her pen on the table.

“Okay,”

she finally said.

“I’ll help you.

But on one condition, when you do decide to sell the house, you have to come back to me.”

“Deal.”

I smiled with relief.

“Thank you, Brooke.

This means a lot to me.”

We discussed the details, what she should say, how she should behave, and what documents to bring to make it convincing.

When everything was agreed upon, I went to the bank where I had an appointment with a financial adviser.

Jabari Wilson, a young man with attentive eyes and a neat beard, listened carefully to my story and asked a few clarifying questions.

“So, Mrs. Frogat, if I understand correctly, you want to transfer some of your savings into more profitable instruments and create a financial plan for the future.”

“That’s right,”

I nodded.

“And I need documents confirming these transactions today.”

“Usually, these things can’t be done in one day,”

he said cautiously.

“We need to analyze your risk profile, select the right instruments.”

“I understand,”

I interrupted,

“and we’ll do it all properly, but today I need at least the preliminary documents.

It’s a family matter.”

He looked at me with understanding and nodded.

“I’ll do everything I can, Mrs. Frogat.

Let’s start by analyzing your current financial situation.”

For the next two hours, we discuss my finances, pension, savings, and possible investments.

To my surprise, the situation was not as bad as I had thought.

Even without selling the house, I could ensure a decent retirement if I managed my available funds wisely.

When I got home, it was almost 2:00.

There was an unusual atmosphere in the house, tense, anxious.

I went to the kitchen to make some tea and found Nola sitting at the table with her laptop.

“Hello, Merrill,”

she said dryly.

“You’re back.”

“Hello, Nola,”

I nodded.

“Yes, I had some things to do in town.”

“Terrence said you had an announcement to make.”

She tried to sound casual, but I could hear the tension in her voice.

“Yes, at 3:00,”

I confirmed.

“Everyone should gather in the living room.”

“We thought we had discussed everything yesterday.”

She closed her laptop.

“What else do you want to say?”

“You’ll find out at 3.”

I smiled and put the kettle on.

Nola pursed her lips and left the kitchen.

I heard her climbing the stairs, probably to report my return to Terrence.

Letty arrived at quarter 2.

I showed her into my room away from prying eyes.

“So, how are you feeling?”

she asked, looking at me intently.

“Ready for battle?”

I tried to smile, but it didn’t come out very convincing.

“You’re nervous,”

Letty stated.

“That’s normal, but remember, you’re not doing this just for yourself, but for them, too.

It’s time they grew up.”

I nodded, grateful for her support.

“Hadley and Brooke should be here any minute,”

I said.

“I’ll let them in through the back door so no one notices.”

“Good plan,”

Letty approved.

“I’ll stay here.

I’ll go on stage when the time comes.”

At 10 minutes to 3, Hadley Drummond arrived with a briefcase full of documents.

I led him through the kitchen to a small guest room on the first floor, which was mainly used for storage.

“Is everything ready, Mrs. Frogat?”

he asked, taking the papers out of his briefcase.

“Yes,”

I nodded.

“Thank you for agreeing to help.”

“It’s my job,”

he smiled slightly.

“And I must admit, an unusual case, but I understand your motives.”

Brooke was the last to arrive.

She was dressed in a strict business suit and looked like a real estate agent, which, in fact, she was.

“I brought everything you asked for,”

she said, handing me a folder with documents.

“I hope this helps.”

“Thank you, Brooke,”

I said, accepting the folder gratefully.

“You have no idea how much this means to me.”

By 3:00, everything was ready.

I went into the living room where Terrence, Nola, Wanda, Pierce, and the children had gathered.

They all looked at me with varying degrees of irritation, curiosity, and anxiety.

“Thank you for coming,”

I began.

“I have a very important announcement to make.

But first, I want you to meet someone.”

I opened the door and invited Hadley Drummond in.

“This is Hadley Drummond, my lawyer,”

I introduced him.

Terrence and Wanda exchanged worried glances.

“A lawyer?”

Terrence asked.

“Why do you need a lawyer?”

“I’ll explain.”

I nodded and invited Brooke in.

“And this is Brooke Holloway, a real estate agent.”

“A real estate agent?”

Wanda began to understand what was going on and turned pale.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“Please sit down,”

I said, pointing to the sofa and armchairs.

“I have some news for you.”

When everyone was seated, I stood in front of them, my heart pounding, but my voice was firm.

“Yesterday, I gave you an eviction notice,”

I began.

“Some of you don’t seem to have taken it seriously.

Well, today I have more news for you.

I’m selling the house.”

“What?”

Terrence jumped up.

“You can’t.”

“I can,”

I replied calmly.

“The house belongs to me and I can do with it as I see fit.”

“But where will you go?”

Wanda looked shocked.

“Where will you live?”

“I have a plan.”

I smiled.

“Brooke, please tell them about our deal.”

Brooke smiled professionally and opened a folder of documents.

“Mrs. Frogad and I have reached a preliminary agreement to sell the house at 84 Maple Street for $325,000.

The deal will be closed within 30 days, at which point the new owners will take possession of the property.”

“30 days?”

PICE looked as if he had been punched in the stomach.

“But that’s the same amount of time as the eviction notice.”

“Exactly.”

I nodded.

“30 days to find a new place and move out.

After that, the house will go to the new owners.”

“But that’s crazy.”

Terrence almost shouted.

“You’re selling the house we grew up in.

the house you and your father bought together?”

“Yes,”

I said firmly.

“Because it’s my house, and I have the right to do with it as I see fit.”

“Where are you going to live?”

Wanda asked again.

“In the retirement home you despise so much.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“I have other plans, Mr. Drummond.

Please.”

Hadley stood up and handed each of us a folder with documents.

“This is official notice of the sale of the house and the termination of your right to live there 30 days from the date of receipt of this notice,”

he explained.

“As Mrs. Frogette said, you have 30 days to vacate the premises.

After that, the new owners will take possession.”

“This is crazy,”

Terrence muttered, leafing through the documents.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I can and I am,”

I replied calmly.

“And I have another announcement.

Lety, you can come in.”

Lety appeared from the hallway where she had been waiting to come out.

She smiled at everyone and stood next to me.

“I’ve always dreamed of traveling,”

I said, looking at my children’s stunned faces.

“to see the world while I still have the strength and health.

And now that the house is sold, I can finally fulfill that dream.

Letty and I are leaving first to Europe, Italy, France, Spain, then maybe Asia.

We’ll see.”

“You

You’re leaving?”

Wanda looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“For good.

For a while,”

I clarified.

“Maybe 6 months, maybe a year.

I haven’t decided yet, but I know for sure that I want to see the world while I still can.”

“What about money?”

asked the practical pierce, asking the obvious question.

“Where will you get the money for such a trip?”

“From selling the house, of course.”

I smiled.

“I’ll invest some of the money in my future to ensure I have a decent retirement, and I’ll spend some on travel and enjoyment.

Mr. Wilson at the bank helped me draw up an excellent financial plan.”

“I can’t believe it.”

Terrence shook his head.

“I just can’t.

You’re selling our house and leaving.

What about us?

What about your family?”

“You’re grown-ups, Terrence,”

I said gently.

“You have jobs, incomes, families of your own.

You’ll be fine, and we won’t stop being a family just because we live apart.”

“But we’ll miss you,”

Nola said unexpectedly.

And for the first time in a long time, there was sincerity in her voice.

“I’ll miss you too,”

I replied honestly.

“All of you.

But I have to do this for myself.”

“When are you leaving?”

Willow asked quietly, looking at me with wide eyes.

“In 35 days,”

I smiled at my granddaughter.

“Right after the house sale is finalized.

Letty and I already have our itinerary planned.

We’ll start in Rome.”

Everyone was silent, processing the information.

I saw different emotions flash across their faces.

Shock, disbelief, hurt, confusion.

“So, it’s decided,”

Terrence finally said.

“You decided everything without us.”

“Yes,”

I replied simply.

“Because it’s my life and my decision.”

“What if we don’t find a place to live in 30 days?”

PICE asked defiantly.

“You will,”

I said confidently.

“If you really try.”

“I can’t believe it,”

Terrence repeated.

“Our own mother is throwing us out on the street and leaving.”

“I’m not throwing anyone out on the street,”

I replied patiently.

“I’m giving you 30 days to find a new place to live like grown-ups, responsible people.”

“But why?”

Wanda’s voice sounded almost childishly confused.

“Why are you doing this to us?”

“I’m not doing this to you.

I’m doing this for myself,”

I replied gently.

“Because I want to live my life, enjoy my last years, see the world, be happy.

Don’t I deserve that?”

“That’s selfish,”

Terrence said sharply.

“Pure selfishness.

You only think about yourself.”

“And you thought about me?”

I asked calmly.

“When you suggested I move to a retirement home so you could live in my house more comfortably.”

“That’s different,”

he objected.

“We suggested it for your own good and you you’re just abandoning us.”

“I’m not abandoning anyone, Terrence.”

I shook my head.

“I’m just starting to live for myself for the first time in many years.”

“And you had to do this to achieve that.”

Wanda waved her hand toward Hadley and Brooke.

“Lawyers, realtors, notices.

We’re a family.”

“Yes, we’re a family.”

I agreed.

“And that’s why I hope you’ll understand and support me.

or at least not get in my way.”

“Support you?”

Terrence looked indignant.

“Support you in kicking us out of our home, selling it, and leaving in wanting to be happy?”

I said quietly.

“What about our happiness?”

Wanda was almost in tears.

“Have you thought about us, about the children?

How are we going to explain to them that their grandmother sold the house and left?”

“You explained to them that their grandmother finally decided to live for herself,”

I said firmly.

“after spending so many years living for others.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Terrence stood up and began pacing the room.

“This is a nightmare.”

“If you have no further questions,”

Headley Drummond interjected.

“I would like to discuss some legal details with Mrs. Frogat.”

“Yes, of course,”

I nodded.

“We can talk in the kitchen.”

I headed for the living room door, but Terrence blocked my way.

“You can’t just leave,”

he said.

“We’re not done.”

“I think we’ve said everything we need to say,”

I replied calmly.

“You have 30 days, Terrence.

Use them wisely.”

I walked around him and left the room, feeling my knees tremble.

But I didn’t show it.

Not now when it was so important to stay strong.

In the kitchen, Hadley, Brooke, and Letty were waiting for me.

“Well, how did it go?”

Lety asked.

“It was tough,”

I replied honestly.

“But I got through it.”

“They’re in shock,”

Hadley remarked.

“That’s normal.

They need time to process.”

“They have time.”

I nodded.

“30 days.”

“And then what?”

Brooke asked.

“Are you really going to sell the house?”

I looked at her, then at Letty and Hadley.

“I don’t know,”

I replied honestly.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m going to travel, that’s for sure.”

“That’s right.”

Lety nodded approvingly.

“It’s about time.”

I smiled at her, feeling a strange mixture of fear and excitement.

I had really done it.

I stood up for my rights, my desires, my life.

And even though the children were furious, even though they didn’t understand or accept my decision, I knew I had done the right thing.

For the first time in many years, I had thought about myself instead of them, and it was liberating.

“Well,”

said Hadley, taking a few more documents out of his briefcase.

“Let’s discuss the details just in case they really don’t move out within 30 days.”

I nodded and sat down at the table, ready to listen.

Outside, it was starting to rain.

Large drops pounded against the window as if beating out the rhythm of a new life that was just beginning.

My life finally mine.

Finally, in the next room, I could hear the excited voices of my children.

They were arguing, accusing me, making plans.

But for the first time in many years, it didn’t matter.