«Come visit, but leave the grandkids at home.»
«Oh, so my grandkids are a bother to you now?»
«Linda, just hear me out! I invited *you*just you. I thought we could stroll along the seafront, maybe catch a show at the theatreremember those days? Hows that possible with kids in tow? Ive only got a one-bed flat. Four children? Where on earth would we all fit?»
«Youd find a way if you wanted to. But I get ityou dont.»
«Linda At my age, hosting a whole nursery is exhausting,» sighed Marina. «I can barely keep up with one. I just cant manage it. I imagined us chatting over tea, reminiscing. Instead, Id be cooking enough to feed an army and, no offence, listening to nonstop shrieking. If youre dead set on bringing them, I can help you find a rental nearby.»
«Right. Well, Marina, if theres no room for my grandkids, theres no room for me,» Linda said flatly. «Seems weve gone our separate ways. Happy New Year.»
She hung up. Marina exhaled, pressing a hand to her forehead. When had Linda turned into such a mother hen? Then again, theyd always been different.
—
Marina and Linda met through mutual friends when they were sixteen. By nineteen, theyd both marriedMarina was Lindas maid of honour, and Linda, hers. They christened each others firstborns, then Linda had a second child.
Marina stopped at one daughter. She was an introvert by nature, but little Emily was a whirlwindalways demanding attention. Nursery was her saving grace; it gave her time to breathe, cook, and tidy. When Emily was ill, though, Marina was stretched thinworrying, soothing tantrums, fielding endless indecisive requests.
Shed always marvelled at Linda, who juggled two kids effortlessly, never complained, and somehow stayed cheerful.
«How do you do it? Doesnt it wear you out? Some days, Im climbing the walls with just one.»
«It was tricky at first, but I learned to let go. Didnt wash their hands properly? Boosts their immune system. Wore clothes backwards? Developing personal style. Ate the cats food? The cats problem. Plus, they entertain each othergives me a breather. Mostly.»
Marina would just shake her head. She could never be so relaxed. She bundled Emily in layers to fend off winter cold, held her hand everywhere. Maybe Lindas way workedbut Marina wasnt built for it.
With grandkids, it was the same. Marina had one granddaughter, Sophie. Linda had four grandsons.
Sophie was as needy as her mother had been. While Marinas husband was alive, she coped. After he passed, the weight of childcare grew heavier. Sophie refused to play aloneevery puzzle, every game needed Grandmas involvement.
And she never stopped talking. Questions fired rapid-fire, attention flitting before Marina could answer. By hour three, Marinas head throbbed, craving silence under a duvet.
Linda thrived in chaosphotos of kids trampling flowerbeds, hosing each other down, stealing strawberries from the patch.
«How do you do it?»
«Well, the eldest is ninehe helps mind the others. Theyre independent. Entertain themselves.»
Marina saw just *how* independent when she visited Lindas countryside home after decades apart. Two grandsons were already there; two more arrived by lunch. Then: carnage.
A toy car sparked a food fightoatmeal dripped down Marinas cheek as the boys cackled. Linda scrubbed walls, half-hearted threats («No pudding!») ignored. Pots became drums, toy guns fired wildly. By day three, Marina fled, cutting her two-week trip short.
«Its not themits my nerves,» she admitted. «I cant handle the noise.»
Linda looked wounded. Her grandkids *were* her. Going without them felt like betrayal. To Marina, their reunions didnt need to be circuses.
They never reconciled. That New Years Eve, Marina sat alone, remembering river trips with their husbandsLinda accidentally hooking her Jims shirt on her first fishing cast, the tang of her homemade elderflower cordial. Back then, their friendship felt unshakeable.
In the end, she went to Emilys.
«Grandmas here! I *told* you shed come!» Sophie crowed. «Im glad shes with us, not that other lady.»
The evening was warmpine needles, roast dinner, sparklers. It was lively, but *her* kind of lively. Maybe this was how it should be.
Linda didnt answer her birthday call weeks later. Marina set the phone down. They were ageing differently: one craving chaos, the other quiet. The real trouble? They didnt speak the same language anymore.
