He sighed.
“And?”
“Those stairs can’t be getting easier.”
“Then I’ll stay downstairs when I don’t feel like climbing them.”
I smiled, but Uncle Colin continued examining the room.
One aunt complained about the long drive.
Another asked whether Grandma still used the upstairs bedrooms.
Grandma answered their questions and asked about their families.
I hoped the evening would stay peaceful.
“Those stairs can’t be getting easier.”
***
Dinner began with laughter.
Grandma told a story about my grandfather building a kitchen cabinet without checking his measurements.
“He insisted the wall was crooked,” she said.
“Was it?” Uncle Colin asked.
“No. Your father just hated admitting he’d made a mistake.”
Everyone laughed.
Dinner began with laughter.
Grandma looked around the table, smiling.
Then Colin put down his fork.
“Well… shouldn’t we discuss what happens to the house when Mom is gone?”
The laughter stopped.
I looked at Grandma.
She was still holding her napkin.
The laughter stopped.
“Uncle Colin, we’re celebrating her birthday,” I said.
“We’re all together, Kylie. It’s sensible to discuss these things.”
One aunt leaned forward.
“I live the closest, so obviously it should go to me.”
Mom immediately shook her head.
“It should be sold, and the money should be split six ways.”
“We’re all together, Kylie.”
Uncle Colin frowned.
“Why should everyone get an equal amount? I’ve paid for repairs over the years.”
“That was ages ago,” Mom replied.
“And when did you last contribute anything?”
The other siblings argued over keeping or selling the house.
Grandma reached for the potatoes.
“That was ages ago.”
“Would anyone like some more?”
Nobody answered.
“Can we stop?” I asked.
Colin waved toward me.
“Kylie, this concerns your grandmother and her children.”
“Then why aren’t you asking Grandma what she thinks?”
“Can we stop?”
“We’re discussing practical matters.”
“At her birthday dinner?”
He turned back toward Mom.
They began arguing about repairs and property values again.
Then another aunt raised her voice.
“Mom could die any day now. We need to decide this now!”
They began arguing.
Grandma lowered the serving spoon.
Her eyes filled with tears.
I stood.
“Enough! She’s sitting right here.”
Uncle Colin frowned.
“Sit down, Kylie. You need to know your place!”
Her eyes filled with tears.
Grandma pushed her plate away.
Nobody noticed except me.
I walked into the living room and picked up the wooden box.
***
When I returned, they were still arguing.
I placed the box in the middle of the table.
The noise stopped.
Nobody noticed except me.
Mom recognized it immediately.
“Kylie, what are you doing now?”
I opened the lid.
Inside were six envelopes, a calendar, and an old photograph.
I placed the envelopes before my mother and her siblings.
Each carried a name in her handwriting.
I opened the lid.
“Three months ago, Grandma asked every one of you to spend one afternoon with her.”
Uncle Colin frowned.
“We’ve already explained why we couldn’t come.”
I unfolded the calendar.
Six names appeared beside six crossed-out dates.
“She didn’t ask for anything expensive. She wanted to hear about your lives.”
Uncle Colin frowned.
I placed the photograph beside it.
It showed Grandma and Grandpa outside their newly built home, surrounded by their six children.
“That’s the house you’re arguing about. They built it so you’d have somewhere to grow up.”
Nobody spoke.
Then I reached for Mom’s printed message.
Her expression changed when she realized what it was.
Nobody spoke.
“Kylie, put that away.”
I should’ve listened.
Instead, I read it aloud.
“Mom, we can’t keep dropping everything whenever you’re lonely.”
Mom stood so quickly her chair scraped against the floor.
“How dare you do this to us?”
“Kylie, put that away.”
Uncle Colin pushed his chair back.
“You brought that out to embarrass everyone?”
“No. Grandma planned six afternoons. None of you came.”
“We have responsibilities!” Mom snapped.
