The question irritated me. Since when did I need to provide an itinerary?
Barbara from next door. We’re going to the art museum.
Oh, well, have fun.
I guess that was it.
No, I’m sorry I was harsh about the groceries. No. How did your doctor’s appointment go? Just a quick ask for a favor and when I said no, the conversation was over.
That Saturday, I did go to the art museum with Barbara.
We had lunch afterward at a nice restaurant downtown, the kind of place I rarely went to because it felt wasteful to eat alone at a nice restaurant.
I paid with money I would have spent on gas driving to Columbus and back.
Over coffee, I told Barbara everything. She listened quietly, her hand over mine on the table.
“You did what you needed to do,” she said finally. “I’ve watched how she treats you, Maggie. You deserve better.”
It helped hearing that from someone outside my own head.
If you’re relating to this story, if you’ve ever felt taken for granted by your own family, do me a favor and subscribe to this channel. You’re not alone in this. None of us are.
October came.
Victoria called to tell me they were going to Florida for Thanksgiving with Derek’s family.
You’re welcome to come if you want. You’d need to pay for your own flight and hotel, though. Were renting a beach house, but there’s not enough room for everyone.
Not enough room in a beach house they were renting, but enough room for Dererick’s parents. I was sure.
I’ll pass, but thank you for the invitation.
Okay, we’ll do something for Christmas.
Christmas, right?
I spent Thanksgiving with Barbara and her family. Her son and daughter-in-law treated me like family.
Her grandchildren called me Miss Maggie and showed me their art projects. Over turkey and stuffing, I realized I felt more welcome at this table with near strangers than I had at my own daughter’s house in years.
Two weeks before Christmas, I got a call from Victoria. This was unusual. Two calls in one month.
Hey, Mom. Listen. I need to ask you something.
Here it comes.
I thought Derek’s been offered this amazing position, but it requires us to relocate to Charlotte. The house we want is perfect, but we’re a bit short on the down payment. We need about $30,000. Could you help us out? We’ll pay you back once we sell the Columbus house.
$30,000.
Roughly the same amount I’d spent on her wedding, added to the other loans over the past year. She’d be into me for nearly $50,000.
Victoria, I don’t have that kind of money to spare right now.
But you have savings. Dad’s life insurance money. You’ve told me about it.
The presumption in her voice was stunning. The entitlement.