Marcus asked.
I took my time answering.
“I don’t want to punish them for making me lonely.”
“Then don’t.”
“But I also don’t want them spending the rest of my life treating everything I own as something they’re entitled to receive.”
“That’s a different concern.”
I looked at the trust provisions.
“I want Nathan to have opportunities.
Robert would have wanted that.”
“Yes.”
“And I want some of what we saved to help students who need a chance.”
Marcus nodded.
“Those are legitimate purposes.”
I looked at the section naming the beneficiaries.
For years, I’d assumed leaving everything to my children was the natural ending of my life.
I’d never seriously considered whether it was what I wanted.
“Do I have to sign today?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I placed the documents back on the desk.
“I want one more night to think.”
Marcus smiled.
“Your husband would approve of that.”
I drove home with the draft in a folder beside me.
On the way, I stopped at a small store and bought a set of white dinner candles.
Robert used to insist on candles at Christmas dinner.
He said ordinary meals deserved to become special occasionally.
The cashier wrapped them in tissue paper.
“Having family over?” she asked.
“Two friends.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It will be.”
I meant it.
But that evening, after I put the candles on the dining table, my phone rang.
Nathan’s name appeared on the screen.
I answered immediately.
“Hello, sweetheart!”
His face filled the screen.
He was sitting in his bedroom, wearing pajamas covered with little green dinosaurs.
“Hi, Grandma.”
“How’s my favorite scientist?”
He didn’t smile.
“Grandma, are you mad at me?”
My stomach tightened.
“Of course not.”
“Did I do something?”
“No, honey.
Why would you think that?”
He looked toward his bedroom door.
Then he whispered, “Aunt Claire says you don’t want us to come because you’re mad.”
I felt a sharp ache behind my eyes.
“I’m not mad at you, Nathan.”
“She said you might send us away.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“Sweetheart, grown-ups sometimes disagree about plans.
That doesn’t mean children have done anything wrong.”
“Then why can’t we come?”
“Because nobody asked me before making the plans.”
He looked confused.
“But Dad said it was a surprise.”
“Sometimes surprises are wonderful.
Sometimes you need to ask first, especially if you want to stay at somebody’s house.”
He thought about that.
“Like when I have to ask before sleeping over at Liam’s?”
“Exactly.”
“But you’re Grandma.”
“I am.”
“So why do we have to ask?”
I smiled gently.
“Because everybody deserves to know who’s coming to their home.
Even grandmas.”
He was quiet.
Then he asked, “Do you still want to see me?”
My eyes filled.
“More than you can imagine.”
“Can I come on Christmas?”
I had to choose my words carefully.
I wanted to tell him yes.
I wanted to say he could bring his gifts, sit beside the fireplace, and eat cookies while we watched the snow.
But I knew Claire was listening for a promise she could turn into permission for everyone.
“I would love to spend time with you,” I said.
“Your mom and dad need to arrange it with me first.”
He looked disappointed.
“Okay.”
“Nathan?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you every single day.
Not just Christmas.”
His little face softened.
“Love you too, Grandma.”
Then Daniel appeared behind him.
“Buddy, I need the phone.”
Nathan handed it over.
Daniel looked tired.
“Mom, what are you telling him?”
“The truth.”
“He’s upset.”
“He asked if I was mad at him.”
“Claire shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No.
She shouldn’t.”
“But you could have just told him he was welcome.”
“I did tell him I wanted to see him.”
“That’s not the same.”
“Daniel, if I tell Nathan everyone can come without arranging it, Claire will consider that permission.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“You’re making this so difficult.”
I stared at him.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“What?”
“Your son thinks his grandmother doesn’t love him because the adults keep telling him my boundaries mean I don’t want him.”
“I didn’t tell him that.”
“Then explain the truth to him.”
He was silent.
“Tell him I love him.
