Then Freya started following parenting influencers online.
Suddenly, everything I did seemed wrong.
If Ember drew on my wall, I wasn’t supposed to stop her because it might limit her creativity.
If she threw toys, I was expected to let her express her feelings.
Even saying “good job” became a problem.
I tried respecting Freya’s choices. She was Ember’s mother. But I wasn’t allowing a four-year-old to throw wooden blocks at me.
Everything I did seemed wrong.
One afternoon, Freya arrived while Ember and I were clapping.
“Mom, why are you making her copy you?”
I laughed.
“Freya, Ember made up the game. I’m copying her!”
“You’re still teaching her to follow instructions instead of thinking for herself.”
Freya folded her arms.
“Mom, why are you making her copy you?”
“You always have an excuse, Mom. There’s always some explanation that makes no sense.”
“And you keep treating everything I do like a mistake.”
Her face tightened.
“You’re too old to understand how to raise children! I can’t trust you with my daughter!”
She collected Ember’s coat.
“Freya, please don’t leave like this.”
“You always have an excuse, Mom.”
“We’re going home.”
Ember waved from the doorway.
“Bye, Grandma!”
I waved back.
I didn’t realize that would be our last afternoon together for six months.
***
For weeks, I called and apologized. Eventually, Freya told me to stop contacting them.
“We’re going home.”
I still mailed Ember a birthday card and small gifts.
Freya never confirmed they’d arrived.
I stopped calling, but I couldn’t stop hoping.
***
And now Freya was sitting across from me, holding that same birthday card.
“What happened?” I asked.
She rubbed her forehead.
“What happened?”
“I lost my job four months ago, Mom.”
“Four months? And you’ve kept it to yourself, Freya?”
She nodded.
“Cole’s working, but his paycheck hasn’t covered everything. We fell behind.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was ashamed. You’ve always wanted better for me, Mom. I couldn’t bear asking you for help.”
“And you’ve kept it to yourself, Freya?”
I wanted to ask how she’d found it easier to accept Edith’s money than my help.
Instead, I waited.
“Tell me, Freya.”
“Edith paid our overdue electric bill,” Freya continued. “Then she bought groceries and helped with Ember’s preschool.”
Edith was Cole’s mother. She loved Ember, but she’d always had strong opinions about how other people should live.
“That was generous,” I said.
Edith was Cole’s mother.
“It was. Then she started deciding things.”
“What things?”
“Where Ember spends weekends. Who watches her. Whether we should contact you.”
I leaned forward.
“Did Edith tell you to stop bringing Ember here?”
“No. That was my decision.”
“What things?”
“Then when did she get involved?”
“After I lost my job. She said seeing you again would confuse Ember.”
“And you believed her?”
Freya stared at the table.
“We needed her help, Mom.”
“Needing help doesn’t mean handing over every decision to your mother-in-law.”
“We needed her help, Mom.”
“I wasn’t planning to let it go this far.”
“But it did.”
She wiped her cheeks.
I wanted to comfort her, but I needed answers more.
“Does Cole agree with Edith?”
“He doesn’t want to upset her. So we went along with everything. Edith doesn’t have much family besides Cole and Ember. I think she’s afraid of losing her place in their lives.”
“But it did.”
I looked at my daughter.
“Then tomorrow, I’m speaking to your husband.”
***
Freya stayed overnight while Ember remained home with Cole.
When she opened her suitcase for her pajamas, I noticed what lay beneath the birthday card: every small gift I’d sent.
Even the animal book I’d chosen for Ember.
I looked at my daughter.
Underneath was a drawing.
Three people stood beneath a yellow sun. Freya pointed to the one wearing an enormous apron.
“That’s you, Mom.”
“Ember drew me?”
“Last week,” Freya said.
I sat beside her. “Does she ask about me?”
“Ember drew me?”
“Almost every week, Mom.”
“What do you tell her?”
Freya hesitated.
“That you’ve been busy.”
I looked at her.
“Busy?”
“What do you tell her?”
“I didn’t know how to explain why you weren’t visiting.”
“Then you should’ve told her we were working things out. You’ve let her think I don’t want to see her.”
Freya started crying.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.”
I reached for her hand.
“I love you, sweetheart. But you’ve hurt both of us.”
Freya started crying.
She squeezed my fingers.
“I brought everything because I wanted you to know I never threw it away.”
I picked up Ember’s drawing.
“Keeping these was kind. But giving them to her would’ve meant more.”
***
The following morning, Freya mentioned that Edith wanted to take Ember away for a weekend.
“Which weekend?”
I picked up Ember’s drawing.
When she told me, I stopped pouring coffee.
“That’s my birthday weekend, Freya. You can’t be serious.”
“I haven’t agreed.”
“Does Edith know it’s my birthday?”
“Yes, it’s marked on our calendar.”
I set the pot down.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Call Cole. Tell him I’d like to meet him this afternoon.”
Freya looked worried.
“Please don’t make things harder.”
“Freya, things are already hard. Avoiding a conversation hasn’t helped anyone.”
***
Cole agreed to meet me for coffee.
He was a decent man who worked long hours, but he’d never been comfortable disagreeing with his mother.
“Call Cole.”
“Do you think I’m bad for Ember?” I asked.
He looked surprised.
“No.”
“Then why haven’t you helped Freya bring her back?”
“At first, I thought it was between you two.”
“And later?”
“Do you think I’m bad for Ember?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Mom started helping us, Judy. We can’t afford to lose that support.”
“I understand needing money, Cole. I don’t understand letting someone buy a say in your daughter’s relationships.”
He stared into his coffee.
“Would you respect Freya’s parenting rules?”
“I understand needing money, Cole.”
“Of course. I can follow rules about meals, safety, and behavior. I’ll ask questions when I’m unsure.”
“And the clapping game?”
“I’m not apologizing for playing a harmless game with my granddaughter.”
Cole smiled faintly.
“She still plays it.”
I swallowed.
“She still plays it.”
“Does she?”
“All the time. But she asks me to play with her, not Freya.”
I wanted to ask him to bring her over immediately.
Instead, I asked something more useful.
“What would it take for you and Freya to stop depending on Edith?”
Cole explained their monthly shortfall.
“Does she?”
I offered to watch Ember during Freya’s interviews and shifts to reduce childcare costs.
I asked him to review their expenses with Freya.
“I can’t solve your finances,” I told him. “But I’ll help you find a way forward.”
***
Two days later, Freya brought their bills to my house.
This time, she didn’t ask me to forgive her before we started.
She called about a lower monthly payment, canceled two services they rarely used, and arranged another interview.
“I can’t solve your finances.”
I offered to resume watching Ember twice a week.
“Like before?” she asked.
“Yes, once you and Cole agree.”
Freya nodded.
Then she admitted she’d mentioned my offer to Edith.
“What did she say?”
“Like before?”
“She said if you’ve got so much free time, perhaps you should pay our bills too.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That I’d think about it. I mean it, Mom. But she’s just… Edith is a bulldozer.”
I pushed my chair back.
“Freya, you can’t keep asking Edith whether I’m allowed to help.”
“She’s going to be furious.”
“Edith is a bulldozer.”
“Then let her be unhappy. You and Cole are Ember’s parents. And I am equally her grandmother as Edith.”
Freya looked at me for a long moment.
“Will you come over Saturday? Cole’s asked Edith to meet us.”
“I’ll be there.”
***
Edith was already at Freya’s dining table when I arrived.
She wore a pleasant smile, but she didn’t offer me a seat.
“Then let her be unhappy.”
“Judy. It’s been quite a while.”
“It has.”
I pulled out a chair.
Cole explained that they’d reviewed their expenses and wanted me to help with childcare again.
Edith immediately shook her head.
“I don’t think changing Ember’s routine is wise.”
I pulled out a chair.
“She’s known me since she was born,” I said.
“Freya had concerns about your methods.”
“Freya and I are discussing those. Do you have a concern of your own?”
Edith glanced at Cole.
“I’ve spent months helping my family. Surely my opinion counts for something.”
“It does,” I replied. “But you’re not Ember’s parent.”
Edith glanced at Cole.
Her smile vanished.
“That’s an ungrateful thing to say, Judy.”
“I’m grateful you’ve helped them. But what exactly worries you about Ember seeing me?”
Edith paused.
“She’s finally settled into a good routine.”
Freya shifted beside me.
Her smile vanished.
“Edith, please. She’s my mom…”
Edith folded her arms.
“I’ve paid for Ember’s clothes, her preschool, and half the groceries in this house. Now Judy comes back, and everyone expects me to step aside.”
I studied her.
“Nobody’s asking you to step aside.”
“Edith, please. She’s my mom…”
“Easy for you to say. You haven’t been paying their expenses.”
“You’re right. But paying a bill doesn’t give you the right to decide who gets to love Ember.”
Edith turned sharply toward Cole.
“Are you going to let her speak to me like that?”
I continued before he answered.
“Edith, I didn’t come here to compete with you. Ember has two grandmothers, and she deserves to enjoy both relationships.”
“You haven’t been paying their expenses.”
“You had years to be Ember’s favorite,” Edith replied. “I don’t see why I should pay for everything and still come second.”
I leaned forward.
“Ember isn’t handing out prizes.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then why are you treating her love like something you need to earn with money?”
“You had years to be Ember’s favorite.”
Edith opened her mouth, but I wasn’t finished.
“I’ve missed Ember’s birthday, games, and ordinary afternoons. You don’t have to lose your place for me to have mine.”
She turned away.
I faced Freya and Cole.
“You’re Ember’s parents. If you don’t want me involved, tell me yourselves. I’ll respect your decision, even if it hurts.”
She turned away.
Freya began crying.
“But don’t make Edith responsible for a choice that belongs to you.”
Cole straightened.
“Mom, we appreciate everything you’ve done. But Freya and I need to make our own decisions.”
Edith pushed back her chair.
“Then perhaps you can make them without my money.”
“Mom, we appreciate everything you’ve done.”
She picked up her purse.
Cole stood.
“We’ve already started making other arrangements.”
Edith stared at him, then left.
Nobody followed her.
“That birthday weekend trip isn’t happening,” Cole said.
Nobody followed her.
***
Freya remained seated after the door closed.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
I pulled my chair closer.
“Tell me what you’re sorry for.”
She wiped her face.
“For insulting you and cutting you off. That was my choice. Then I let Edith keep us apart.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“And what happens when we disagree again?”
“We talk. I don’t take Ember away because I’m angry.”
Cole nodded.
“Then let’s start doing better,” I said.
***
The following weeks were difficult.
Edith stopped helping with their bills. A week later, she offered to cover Ember’s preschool fees again, but only if I stopped seeing Ember.
“Then let’s start doing better.”
Freya showed me the message.
“She’s offering to help,” she said.
“With conditions.”
Freya typed her answer herself.
“No, thank you. Cole and I have made other arrangements.”
They reduced Ember’s preschool hours while Freya took temporary shifts and continued searching for work. I watched Ember twice a week.
“She’s offering to help.”
***
Before Ember’s first visit, Freya and I agreed on meals, manners, and discipline.
I promised to listen. Freya admitted she’d relied too much on parenting advice online.
We still disagreed sometimes, but we talked things through.
The first afternoon Ember returned, she walked straight to the kitchen and asked whether I still had her favorite cookie cutters.
I’d kept them in the same drawer.
We still disagreed sometimes.
She found the star, held it up, and grinned.
“Grandma, you remembered!”
I crouched beside her.
“Of course I did, sweetheart.”
She hugged my neck, and I held her for a moment longer than usual.
A few weeks later, Edith asked to see Ember.
“Of course I did, sweetheart.”
Freya told her she was welcome, provided she respected their decisions about visits.
Edith wasn’t pleased, but she agreed.
I was relieved.
I’d never wanted Ember to lose another grandmother.
***
One Friday afternoon, Ember was helping me make brownies when Freya arrived earlier than expected.
“Grandma, we need more chocolate!” Ember announced, wearing her old yellow apron.
I’d never wanted Ember to lose another grandmother.
I’d kept it hanging beside the stove and recently adjusted the ties.
“You’ve already used half the bag, sweetheart.”
Freya laughed from the doorway.
“She’s been asking to make these all week.”
Ember held up her hands.
“Grandma, our clapping game!”
“You’ve already used half the bag, sweetheart.”
We started playing. When Freya joined us, she missed the third clap, and Ember insisted on teaching her.
I watched my daughter follow along, laughing at her mistakes.
Six months earlier, she’d taken Ember home for playing that very game.
After the brownies were ready, Ember went to collect her shoes.
Freya stayed beside me.
“When I came here with that suitcase, I thought you’d send me away.”
Freya stayed beside me.
“I was hurt, Freya. I still am, a little.”
“I know. I should’ve come sooner.”
I took her hand.
“Yes, you should have.”
She gave a small, shaky laugh.
Then she hugged me.
“I was hurt, Freya.”
This time, I held on.
Ember returned, carrying her apron.
“Grandma, can I leave this here?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Because I’m coming back next week?”
Freya smiled.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Yes, honey. Next Friday.”
After they left, I hung the apron beside the stove.
For six months, I’d kept it there because I couldn’t bear to put it away.
Now I kept it there because Ember would need it next Friday.
