I wanted nothing more than to gather my family under one roof, to spend time with them like in the old days. But that night, as I sat in my favorite armchair, I heard whispers behind closed doors.
Schemes. Hidden agendas. Betrayals.
My children and their spouses thought I was old and blind, but I saw everything. I heard everything. And that’s when I made my decision—I would change the terms of my inheritance. They wouldn’t be able to ignore me anymore.
I always said that in old age, a woman has two choices. Either she becomes a quiet, sweet grandmother who bakes pies and hands out candy, or she becomes a sharp-witted schemer who keeps everyone on their toes. Without a doubt, I was the second type.
At seventy-eight, I still wore designer robes, drank fresh juice every morning, and hit the slopes whenever I felt like snowboarding. I knew that even at this age, life was a game—you just had to play your cards right.
But lately, my children acted as if I didn’t exist. They rarely called, and visits were even rarer. As for my grandchildren, their parents hardly ever brought them over, afraid that I might influence them too much.
Meanwhile, my evenings were filled with my dear friends. That night, we gathered in my living room, waiting to play bridge. I shuffled the deck, listening to the chatter around me.
Dolly, ever the dramatic one, was ranting about her mysterious admirer who kept leaving her flowers without a note.
“I can’t take it anymore!” she sighed, clutching her chest. “This is unbearable! The man is playing some strange game!”
Margo, practical as always, scoffed. “The same admirer as last time?”
“Or maybe a new one! Maybe I’m just a magnet for love!”
I smirked, flipping a card between my fingers. “You do realize she orders the flowers herself, right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Margo agreed, sipping her coffee.
Dolly gasped in mock offense. “You two are impossible!” Then, as if remembering something, she tilted her head. “Speaking of family, how are your kids?”
I shrugged. “Alive, I suppose. Theoretically. They rarely check in, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve forgotten what I look like.”
“And Gregory?” Margo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, ‘Mr. Grizzly’ is in his usual form. Sits at home, grumbling about life’s injustices.”
Margo chuckled while Dolly tossed another sugar cube into her coffee. “And Veronica, his wife?”
“‘Hashtag’?” I snorted. “She’s too busy crafting the perfect life for social media to hold a real conversation. But she’s the one keeping their household afloat with advertising contracts. A man in a robe while his wife is on stage—it’s like an upside-down world.”
“And your daughter, Belinda?”
I paused. “Belinda… well, as always, she’s ensuring everyone’s life follows her strict vision of order. No family, no children, not even a whisper of romance.”
Margo leaned forward, watching me closely. “And your grandchildren? Mia and Theo?”
I sighed. “Mia is probably barefoot in the mountains somewhere, teaching the trees how to meditate. Instead of preparing for exams or at least going to a party, she’s completely immersed in her spiritual journey.”
“She had some theory that objects have memory, didn’t she?”
“Oh, yes. She believes they hear us when we yell at them. I once scolded the microwave—it ignored me for the entire day.”
“And what about Theo, your little detective?”
I smiled. “The only man in my family who still has common sense.”
“He’s still a spy?”
“A spy. Conducting active investigations.”
“And what’s he investigating?”
“Last I saw, he was crawling under the couch with a magnifying glass. I don’t know if he’s gathering evidence or just entertaining himself.”
“I love him!” Dolly clasped her hands over her heart. “Does he know you’re his only ally?”
I sighed, shuffling the cards again. “He still thinks I’m the prime suspect.”
Margo narrowed her eyes. “Vivi, you’re up to something.”
“Oh, more than you know.” I laid my cards on the table. “If my children don’t notice me while I’m alive, I’ll make sure they can’t ignore me when I’m gone.”
I raised my glass of grapefruit juice. The bitterness sent shivers down my spine.
I opened my mouth to say something else, but suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my chest.
My vision blurred. The room tilted.
Dolly’s shrill scream was the last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole.
I woke up in a hospital bed, wrapped in a warm blanket. The doctor’s voice was a muffled hum in the background.
“Her condition is stable, but at her age, she needs to be very careful.”
Dolly, ever the dramatist, clutched her hands together as if delivering tragic news. “She’s so active, doctor! Will she be able to live as she did before?”
“She needs rest. No stress. And, of course, her family around her.”
Margo and Dolly exchanged a look.
“We’re staying with you for the weekend,” Dolly declared.
“Just to make sure everything is under control,” Margo added.
“And we need to call your family,” Dolly continued. “They should be here with you. Who knows how much time…”
“Dolly, don’t overdo it,” I shot her a look, but something about her words made me pause. My condition needed attention—not medical, but familial.
“You’re right,” I murmured. “I do need them here.”
Dolly clapped her hands. “Finally, you admit it!”
Margo nodded. “We’ll message them ourselves. Separate messages, so they don’t think you’re exaggerating.”
Dolly typed with a gleam in her eyes. “And we’ll tell them to pack for a month. Just in case…”
I gave her a skeptical look. “Dolly, you’re enjoying this way too much.”
She winked. “I’m just a dramatic woman.”
By nightfall, my family was on their way. And they had no idea what awaited them.
