Mila looked at Timmy and suddenly asked, “Timmy, how long have you been living at Grandma’s?”
I found it odd; ever since my divorce, Timmy and I had moved in with Mom. Mila should know that.
Timmy suddenly frowned, “This isn’t Grandma’s house; this is my house! I can live here as long as I want!”
My son was really my little spokesperson, so perceptive. I gave him an approving look.
My brother quickly added, “Mila, let’s not worry about everything right now. The baby is what matters most.”
But Lily wasn’t having it. “You’re lying! Mom said Grandma’s house is mine! Grandma is mine! This is my house, not yours!” She turned to Mila for confirmation, “Mom, Timmy’s lying! He wants to steal Grandma from me!” Then she burst into tears.
Timmy, being three years older, seemed to understand what was happening, tears brimming in his eyes. He looked up at me, full of questions and hurt.
Kids are the most straightforward; their innocent remarks can expose adults’ hidden agendas.
Mom quickly tried to soothe both children, but Lily persisted, “Grandma, tell me! This is my house, not Timmy’s, right?”
Timmy looked at Mom with hopeful eyes.
Mom hesitated, at a loss for words, only continuing to comfort Lily, telling her not to cry.
Lily became frantic, wailing, “Grandma’s lying! Grandma doesn’t love me anymore!”
Seeing Lily upset, Mila began to blame Mom. “Mom, can’t you just say something? Do you really have to let Lily be this sad?”
Feeling cornered, Mom finally replied, “Yes, Grandma’s house is Lily’s. Grandma belongs to Lily.”
Lily calmed down a bit after hearing that, her teary eyes now defiantly on Timmy, who couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Mom! What are you doing? You don’t want Lily to be sad, but it’s okay for Timmy to be sad? Just say it’s their house!”
Mom started to avoid my gaze, and I was filled with questions.
At that moment, Mila pulled Lily close and said softly, “You might not know this, but when I married Brian, we had an agreement.”
“I know, Mom told me,” I replied.
But then my brother interrupted, “Enough! Stop it! Look what you’ve turned this holiday into!”
As I watched them play off each other, I felt like an outsider, a chill creeping up my spine.
“Why stop? What’s so hard to say?”
Mila spoke softly, “Janet, it’s not that I’m targeting you. It’s just that when we got married, Mom agreed that you’d move out.”