"Thirty Days" Story

to his tablet.
Skyler rolled her eyes. She told her mother that she saw the cream on the nightstand before she stuffed the last bite of waffle into her mouth and left.
Melinda pursed her lips and offered no thanks to her daughter or to me. She simply turned and left trailing expensive perfume and unspoken grievances behind her.
I placed the finished waffles on a large plate beside the maple syrup. Phillip appeared just as I finished washing the pan.
At forty two with a receding hairline and a slight paunch he still looked like the little boy I used to carry in my arms. He was my only son my pride and my pain.
He yawned and called me a miracle as he looked at the waffles. In moments like these I wanted to believe that not all was lost.
I wanted to believe my boy was still in there beneath the tired and passive man who let his wife rule his mothers house. I told him with a smile that his father always said a Saturday without waffles was not a Saturday.
Phillip nodded but avoided my gaze. We both knew he did not like me talking about George.
It reminded him how much had changed since his fathers death five years earlier. Melinda returned to the kitchen and held the hand cream out demonstratively.
She announced that it was on the nightstand just like Skyler said. She glanced at me and told me not to touch her things next time because everyone needs personal space.
I nodded silently though a thousand replies screamed in my head. My personal space had been violated long ago.
This apartment was my property and I was still paying the mortgage on it. I had let them move in after Phillip was laid off because I thought it would be temporary.
I thought it would be a year at most until they got back on their feet. Three years had passed.
I poured myself more tea and walked to the window. From the eighth floor I had a sweeping view of the city and the distant hills.
Phillip mentioned that he and Melinda were going to a birthday party tonight. He asked if I would stay with the kids but it was really a statement.
They never asked if it was convenient. They simply presented me with a finished decision.
I turned to him with a manufactured smile and said I had a new book I wanted to read in peace. Melinda pulled a yogurt from the fridge and said that was great.
She then mentioned that she noticed I used her French shampoo again. She asked me not to touch it because it was expensive and she bought it specifically for her hair.
I had not touched her shampoo because I had my own regular supermarket brand. But there was no point in arguing with her.
I apologized and said I would not do it again. She accepted my apology like a queen receiving tribute and sat down beside Phillip.
They began discussing their evening plans as if I were no longer in the room. I finished my tea and placed the cup in the dishwasher before retreating to the sanctuary of my bedroom.
Passing Jaces slightly ajar door I heard soft music. He had returned to his room right after breakfast.
My grandson was absorbed in a game with his thin shoulders tense. I asked if he would like to go for a walk today because the weather was lovely.
He turned and pulled off one headphone for a moment. He said he could not because of an online tournament.
I told him I understood and made one last attempt at a smile. He nodded and slipped the headphones back on.
We used to walk all the time. I would show him plants and tell him stories from my nurse days.
But over the last year he had retreated into the virtual world. He chose that over the constant tension in our apartment.
I did not blame him. Back in my room I pulled an old photo album from my nightstand.
I looked at the photos of our wedding with George and Phillips birth. I saw his first steps his school days and his graduation.
There was a photo of him introducing us to Melinda when they were young and happy. Then there were Skylers baby photos and Jaces.
The last pictures with George showed him gray haired but still vibrant. Who could have known a heart attack would take him so suddenly?
After his death I held on. I worked in the emergency service for two more years before retiring.
A few months later Phillip lost his job as an engineer. He called me right away.
He asked if they could stay with me for a year at most while they got back on their feet. Of course I agreed because I could not refuse my only son.
They sold their house to pay off debts which were mostly gambling debts. Phillip had a problem with sports betting.
He moved in and got a job as an operator at an auto parts factory. It was a big step down in pay.
Melinda stayed at the laundromat. They barely made ends meet just enough for necessities and the childrens education.
I never asked them for rent and only asked for their share of the utilities. But gradually and insidiously everything changed.
Melinda started ordering me around in my own kitchen and rearranging the furniture. She criticized my habits while Phillip stayed silent.
At first I tried gently asserting my boundaries but every time it ended in a cold war. So I began giving in on small things and then bigger things.
I hid the album as Skyler knocked. She had returned earlier than expected.
She slipped inside and closed the door behind her. She scanned the room to make sure we were alone and sat beside me on the bed.
She said she wanted to apologize for her mother and for what she said about the shampoo. I told her not to worry about it.
But she insisted that it was not okay. Anger flashed in her eyes as she said this