Its me, Michael he whispered, settling beside me. Its far too late to change anything now. Youre nearly eighty, mother. He turned and left without letting a word escape my lips.
Gran Lily, drawing the last strength from the cold tap, hoisted a pail of icy water. With legs trembling, she shuffled along the frostcrusted path toward her cottage. The wind bit her cheeks, her fingers clinging to the brittle, frosted handle. At the doorway she paused, breathless, set the pail on a step, reached for the second and her foot slipped on the ice.
Oh, Lord, help me she breathed before she hit the floor. Her shoulder slammed against the steps edge, a dull ache blossoming at the back of her head. She lay there for a few seconds, unable to move or even sigh.
She tried to rise, but her legs refused; everything below her waist seemed to have vanished. Gasping with horror and pain, she began to crawl toward the door, grabbing at anything that crossed her path: an old stool, a broken broom, the hem of her skirt. Her back twisted, sweat gathered on her forehead, the world swirled and swayed.
Hold on, Lily just a little longer she murmured to herself, attempting to pull herself onto the worn sofa in the hallway. On the windowsill lay a telephone. With trembling fingers she dialed her son.
Paul son somethings wrong come she gasped, then slipped into unconsciousness.
By evening Paul burst in, the door slamming, a sudden gust tearing through the cottage. Bareheaded and dishevelled, he froze on the threshold, seeing his mother halfcollapsed on the sofa.
Mother whats happened to you? he leaned in, taking her hand. Heavens, shes as cold as ice
Without hesitation he called his wife:
Olivia, come at once shes terribly ill I think shes not moving at all.
Gran Lily heard everything, though she could neither smile nor stir. A flicker of hope rose in her chest: if he was frightened, she mattered.
Perhaps this was the moment the family would finally unite? Could they save her?
She attempted to wiggle her feetnothing. Only her fingers twitched faintly. Then tears rolled down her cheeksnot from pain, but because perhaps not everything was lost.
Olivia arrived two days later, irritated, clutching Annes hand as if distracted from something vital.
Well, look what youve become, old woman, she whispered, glancing at her motherinlaw. Now lie there like a bundle of straw.
Anne pressed against her mother, eyes darting anxiously, trying to smile though her face refused.
Olivia slipped silently into the house. Paul led her to the kitchen. They spoke in hushed tones, the air thick with tension. Though Lily could not make out words, her heart sensed their bitterness.
Minutes later the son returned, lifting her gently without a word.
Where are you taking me? she whispered.
Paul said nothing, his jaw tightened. She clutched his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of oil, tobacco, something homey.
To the hospital? she asked again.
He remained silent. His steps quickened.
Instead of a hospital he carried her to an old outbuilding where, once, potatoes, skis, and other odds and ends were stored. The room was cold, floor made of cracked boards, the windows weeping damp. It reeked of forgotten things.
He placed her carefully on a threadbare cot, covering her with a faded blanket.
Here youll stay, he said dryly, avoiding her gaze. Its far too late to change anything now. Youre nearly eighty, mother. He turned and left, denying her a single word.
Shock crept over her slowly, inexorably. Lily lay staring at the ceiling, the chill seeping to her bones. She could not grasp why he acted so; for what?
Fragments of her past floated before her eyes: pulling her son along, scrubbing school floors, buying him a winter coat on credit, paying for a wedding when the brides family refusednot suitable, wrong circle.
Ive always stood by him she whispered, still unable to accept what had happened.
She recalled Olivias facealways cold, restrained, sharp as a blade. Never grateful, never appearing without a reminder. Only once, for Annes birthday.
Now she lay in that cold storeroom, a forgotten thing, unsure whether she would see another dawn.
Day after day the truth grew clearer: something was terribly wrong. Paul visited less often, leaving a bowl of soup without looking, then hurrying away. Olivia and Anne never returned.
Lily felt life slipping away. She stopped eating, sipping only water to stave off death by hunger. Sleep eluded her; a backache kept her awake. Yet the worst was the crushing loneliness, oppressive and relentless.
For what? she thought. Why this? I loved him more than anyone. I gave everything
No answers cameonly cold and emptiness.
One morning, as a thin sun pierced the grimy window, a gentle knock soundedsoft, persistent, unlike Pauls.
Whos there? she whispered, voice barely a breath.
The door creaked, and a silverhaired man in an old coat entered, his beard as white as frost. His face was familiar, though she needed a moment to place him. He sat beside her, took her hand.
Its me, Michael he whispered, settling next to her.
Lily shivered. Michaelher neighbour, the man she once loved and had cast out as unsuitable for her family.
Michael she exhaled.
He said nothing, merely squeezed her hand, then asked quietly:
What happened to you, Lily? Why are you here? Paul told me youre in a care home
She tried to speak, but tears blurred her words. He understood without them, wrapping her in an old embrace.
Dont be afraid. Ill take you away from here.
He lifted her, as light as a feather, and carried her out into the daylight. Paul was gone, off to the town. Olivia too. Only Anne peeked from a window before quickly disappearing.
Michael brought her to his own cottage, laid her on a warm bed, covered her with a fresh blanket, brewed tea with honey, fed her like a child.
Rest now. Ill call a doctor.
The doctor arrived swiftly, examined, shook his head.
A spinal fracture, old. With proper treatment she might stand again. Surgery and rehab will be needed.
Michael nodded.
Well do whatever it takes. Ill sell what we must, but well save her.
Lily looked at him, tears streaming.
Michael why? After everything
He gave a sad smile.
Because I love you. I always have, and I always will.
She weptjoy, pain, the realization that life still held promise.
Michael tended to her as if she were his own. He fed her, washed her, read to her, recounted his years of waiting, hopeful she would return.
I knew one day youd understand, he said. And Ill be here.
A week later Paul returned, saw his mother not in the outbuilding but in a warm room.
Mother how did you get up? he stammered.
She stared coldly.
I didnt. Michael carried me.
Paul lowered his gaze.
I I didnt expect this
Go, Paul. Dont come back.
He left without looking back. Olivia and Anne never appeared again.
Lily remained with Michael, who became her pillarliterally and figuratively. He helped her onto walking frames, then a cane.
Look, Lily, Im walking she laughed, taking her first steps.
He wept with happiness.
One sunrise, golden light spilling through the windows, she turned to him.
Michael, thank you. For everything.
He took her hand.
Its I who should thank you, for coming back.
And they lived on, quietly, in the peace they had long awaited.
Gran Lily sat on a bench in the village green, warming herself in the sun. Her legs still ached, but she walkedslowly, steadily. Michael worked nearby, carving a small wooden toy for Anne, who would sometimes dart in, hiding from her mother.
Do you think Paul will ever forgive? she asked.
Michael shook his head.
Dont think of him. Think of yourself. Youre alivethats what matters.
She nodded, feeling alive for the first time in ages.
On the kitchen table lay an old photograph: a young Lily with Michael, captioned Finally together.
A month later Paul slipped in unannounced, saw Lily sipping tea, Michael at her side.
Mother we need to talk, he began, ignoring Michael.
She stayed silent.
Olivia says youve gone mad, that this old man has clouded your mind.
Michael rose, but Lily stopped him with her hand.
Leave, Paul. This isnt your place.
He shivered.
But Im your son!
He was. Now go.
Paul stormed out, slamming the door. Lily didnt cry; she tightened her grip on Michaels hand.
Thank you for being here.
He smiled.
And thank you.
Life moved forwardwithout Paul, but filled with love.
A week later Anne ran in, perched on the bench, hugging her grandmother.
Grandma, why is Daddy so angry?
Lily stroked her head.
Hes forgotten what love feels like. You wont forget, will you?
Anne shook her head.
No. I love you.
And I love you, Lily replied.
Michael watched them, smiling. Life, like a dream, breaks and mends. The secret is never to give up.
Lily stood on the doorstep, watching the road as the sun set, painting the sky pink. Michael came up, wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
What are you thinking about?
That everythings finally alright.
He kissed her temple.
Yes, Lily. Finally.
They stepped inside together, forever.
