For six months, I wasn’t allowed to see my grandson. Then, on his birthday, I stood outside his house, heartbroken, until a tiny paper airplane fluttered down. I picked it up and froze.
Six months since my son John stopped returning my calls, since I last heard Timmy’s laughter. I had respected their wishes, but that day, I couldn’t stay away.
Timmy pressed his face against the upstairs window, waving eagerly. “Grandma!” His voice was muffled by the glass.
Then the front door opened. Olivia, my daughter-in-law, stepped out. “What are you doing here?” she asked coldly.
“I brought Timmy a toy.”
“We’ve discussed this, Mrs. Roberts. Timmy doesn’t need unnecessary excitement. This is John’s decision.”
The door clicked shut. I placed the gift on the doorstep, then something brushed my shoulder—a paper airplane. I caught it and unfolded the note inside.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Grandma, I want to see you. Mom says you’re bad, but I don’t believe her. I know her secret. I’ll hide it in the dinosaur book. Love, Timmy.”
My friend Mary frowned when I showed her. “It could be a trap. Do you even know why John cut you off?”
“He accused me of using money meant for Timmy’s education to buy my house. But we never discussed that—it was my savings.”
Mary stirred her tea. “Then something else is going on.”
Determined, I visited the library every day. Finally, I found Timmy’s hidden note inside the dinosaur book:
“I heard Mom talking about the money you borrowed from Dad. Maybe if you give it back, we can see each other again.”
I wrote a response and left it for him. I needed to know the truth.
At the mall, I saw John and Timmy. The moment Timmy spotted me, he ran into my arms. “Granny! I did everything you asked!”
John’s expression darkened. “Mom? What’s going on? What note?”
“John, did you ever check where that money actually went?” I asked.
He hesitated. “You said you needed it for treatment. I wouldn’t have asked for it back if that was true.”
I shook my head. “I never took your money! I was never sick!”
His eyes narrowed. “But I got a voicemail—from you—begging for help.”
Olivia approached, her smile tight. “Oh, you’re here too.”
John turned to her. “Did you give my mom the money? I handed you the cash.”
“I… well, yes,” she stammered.
Timmy unzipped his backpack. “Mom, maybe changed the money for these papers and then forgot.” He pulled out crumpled receipts.
John snatched them. “Jewelry stores? Luxury boutiques? Olivia, this is thousands of dollars!”
She swallowed. “I thought I could replace it before you noticed! But when I found out your mother wasn’t sick, I panicked!”
I stepped forward. “You faked my voice on a voicemail? Lied to John? Kept Timmy from me?”
Olivia’s mouth opened, but she had no defense. John’s hands ran through his hair, drained. “You made me believe my own mother betrayed me.”
“John, I have a problem. I buy things to feel better. I was scared you’d hate me.”
John exhaled. “I don’t hate you, Olivia. But you need help.”
Timmy gripped my hand. “Dad, can I stay with Grandma for a little while?”
John nodded. “Yeah, buddy. I’ll bring your things later, Mom. We’ll have dinner together.”
As he led Olivia away, Timmy tugged my sleeve. “Grandma, can we get ice cream now?”
I smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything you want.”
Leave a Reply