Its me, Michael he whispered, settling beside me. Its too late to change anything now. Youre nearly eighty, Mum. He turned and walked out, not letting a single word leave my lips.
Grandma Lily, clutching the last of her strength, dragged a bucket of icy tap water from the kitchen tap. She staggered, one foot after another, down the muddy lane toward her cottage. The frost nipped at her cheeks, and her fingers barely clung to the chilled, splintered handle of the bucket. At the doorway she paused to catch her breath, set the bucket on the step, reached for the second, and then her foot slipped on the ice.
Oh dear, help me, Lord she muttered before she hit the ground. Her shoulder thudded against the step, a dull ache blooming at the back of her head. For a few seconds she lay there, unable to move or even sigh.
She tried to rise, but her legs refused. It was as if everything below her waist had vanished. Gasping from terror and pain, she began to crawl toward the door, clutching at anything that crossed her path: an old stool, a broken broom, the tear of her skirt. Her back twisted, sweat beaded on her forehead, the world swirled and wobbled.
Come on, Lily just a little more she whispered to herself, struggling onto the sagging settee in the hallway. On the windowsill lay a telephone. With trembling fingers she dialed her sons number.
Peter love, somethings wrong come quickly she breathed out, then darkness claimed her.
By evening Paul burst in. The door slammed, a gust of wind slammed through the cottage. Bareheaded, his coat torn, he froze on the threshold, eyes falling on his mother halflying on the settee.
Mum whats happened to you? he leaned in, taking her hand. Good heavens, youre as cold as ice
Without hesitation he called his wife:
Eleanor, come straight away Shes terribly ill She isnt moving at all.
Grandma Lily heard everything, though she could neither smile nor shift. A flicker of hope rose in her chest: if he was frightened, it meant he still cared. Could this be the moment the family finally gathered? Would they rescue her?
She tried to wiggle her feetnothing. Only her fingers twitched feebly. Then tears rolled down her cheeksnot from pain, but because perhaps not everything was lost.
Eleanor arrived two days later, irritable, clutching Annies hand as if shed been snatched from something important.
Well, look whats happened, dear, she murmured, glancing at the old woman. Now lie down like a bundle of straw.
Annie pressed against her mother, eyes darting anxiously toward Grandma Lily, trying to smile, but her face wouldnt obey.
Eleanor slipped silently into the house. Paul led her to the kitchen. They talked in hushed tones, the air thick with tension. Though Grandma Lily could not distinguish words, her heart sensed the bitterness in their voices.
Minutes passed, and the son returned. Without a word he lifted her into his arms.
Where are you taking me? she whispered.
Paul said nothing, his jaws clenched. She clung to his neck, inhaling his familiar scentold oil, tobacco, something homey.
To the hospital? she asked again.
He stayed silent. His steps quickened. Instead of a hospital, he carried her to the outbuildinga former store room where potatoes, sleds, and forgotten things once lived. The room was cold, the floor creaked on rotten planks, damp seeped through the windows. The smell of neglect hung heavy.
He laid her gently on an ancient mattress covered with a faded quilt.
Here youll stay, he said flatly, avoiding her gaze. Its too late to change anything now. Youre nearly eighty, Mum. He turned and left, not allowing her a single word.
Shock settled slowly, inexorably. Grandma Lily lay staring at the ceiling, the cold sinking to her bones. She could not understand why he acted so, for what reason?
Fragments of her past flickered before her eyes: pulling Peter by the hand, scrubbing school floors, buying him a winter coat on credit, paying for a wedding when his inlaws refused, deeming it not proper.
I was always on his side she whispered, still disbelieving what had happened.
She remembered Eleanors facealways cool, restrained, sharp as a blade. Never a thankyou, never a visit without a reminder. Only once shed turned up, for Annies birthday.
Now she lay in that cold store room, feeling like a discarded relic, unsure whether dawn would ever come for her again.
Day after day the signs grew clearer: something was terribly wrong. Paul visited less often, leaving a bowl of soup, then hurrying away. Eleanor and Annie disappeared altogether.
Grandma Lily felt life slipping away. She ate nothing but sipped water to avoid starving. Sleep eluded her; a pang in her back kept her awake. The worst of all was the crushing loneliness.
Why? she thought. Why this? I loved him like no one else. I gave everything to him
No answer cameonly cold and emptiness.
One morning, as a thin beam of sunlight filtered through a grimy window, a soft knock sounded. Not Pauls heavy knock, but a gentle, persistent one.
Whos there? she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
The door creaked and a silverhaired man in a worn coat stepped into the store room. His face was familiar, though she didnt recognize him at first. He sat beside her, took her hand.
Its me, Michael he whispered, sitting close.
Grandma Lily shivered. Michael, the neighbour she had once loved, the man shed driven away for being unsuitable for her family.
Michael she sighed.
He remained silent, squeezing her hand. Then, in a low voice, he asked, What happened to you, Lily? Why are you here? Paul told me youre in a care home
She tried to speak, but tears blocked the words. He understood without needing them, embraced her as he once had.
Dont be afraid. Ill take you away from here. He lifted herlight as a featherand carried her out into the daylight. Paul was gone, off to the town. Eleanor too. Only Annie peered out a window, then hurried away.
Michael brought her to his own cottage, laid her in a warm bed, covered her with a blanket, brewed tea with honey, fed her as if she were a child.
Rest now. Ill call a doctor.
The doctor arrived swiftly, examined her, shook his head.
A fractured spine, old injury. With proper treatment she might stand again. Surgery and rehab will be needed.
Michael nodded.
Well do whatever it takes. Ill sell what I must, but well save you.
Grandma Lily stared at him, tears streaming.
Michael why? After everything
He gave a sad smile.
Because I love you. I always have. I always will.
She weptjoy, pain, the realization that life wasnt over.
Michael tended to her like a cherished relicfeeding, washing, reading aloud, recounting days gone by, how hed waited, hoping shed return.
I knew one day youd understand, he said. And Ill be right here.
A week later Paul returned. He entered, saw his mother not in a dank store room but in a cosy bedroom.
Mum how did you get up? he stammered.
She looked at him coldly.
I didnt. Michael carried me.
Paul lowered his gaze.
I I didnt expect this.
Go, Paul. Dont come back.
He left without a word. Eleanor and Annie never reappeared.
Grandma Lily stayed with Michael, who became her pillarboth literally and figuratively. He helped her onto walkers, then a cane.
Look, Lily, Im walking she laughed, taking her first steps.
He wept with happiness.
One bright morning, as the sun gilded the windows, she awoke and said, Thank you, Michael, for everything.
He took her hand.
Its I who should thank you, for coming back.
They lived on, quietly, peacefully, in the love theyd waited so long to find.
Grandma Lily sat on a garden bench, warming herself in the sun. Her legs still ached, but she walkedslowly, steadily. Michael carved a small wooden toy for Annie, who would sometimes dart in, hiding from her mother.
Do you think Paul will ever forgive? she asked.
Michael shook his head.
Dont think about him. Think about yourself. Youre alivethats what matters.
She nodded, and for the first time in ages felt truly alive.
On the kitchen table lay a photograph: a young Lily beside Michael, captioned Finally together.
A month later Paul entered without knocking, found Lily sipping tea, Michael nearby.
Mum we need to talk, Paul began, ignoring Michael.
She remained silent.
Eleanor says youve gone mad, that this old man has clouded your mind.
Michael rose, but Lily halted him with her hand.
Leave, Paul. This isnt your place.
He shivered.
But Im your son!
You were. Now go.
He stormed out, slamming the door. Lily didnt cry; she simply squeezed Michaels hand tighter.
Thank you for being here.
He smiled.
And I thank you.
Life moved forwardwithout Paul, but with love.
Annie raced in a week later, sat on the bench, hugged her grandmother.
Grandma, why is Daddy so angry?
Lily stroked her hair.
Hes forgotten what love feels like. You wont forget, will you?
Annie nodded.
No. I love you.
I love you too.
Michael watched them, smiling. Life, he thought, sometimes breaks you, then mends you. The key is never to give up.
Lily stood on the doorstep, watching the road as the sun sank, painting the sky pink. Michael came close, embraced her shoulders.
What are you thinking about?
That everythings finally alright.
He kissed her temple.
Yes, Lily. At last.
Together they stepped back into the househand in hand, forever.
