I clenched my fists.
My voice wasn't loud, but it was steady and clear.
"Whoever wants this job can have it."
"I'm done. I'm going home first thing tomorrow morning."
I turned and walked away without another word.
Back on the balcony that doubled as my room, I'd barely shoved a few clothes into my worn travel bag when my phone started buzzing nonstop.
The screen lit up. It was the family group chat, the one called "One Big Happy Family."
I tapped it open. The latest message was from Natalie.
"Ugh, I can't even."
"My mom is throwing a fit over something tiny and says she's going back home. She's refusing to help us anymore."
"Hal and his mom just told the truth—that she skimmed a dollar off Harvey's pocket money, and honestly, the meals lately haven't been great."
"She couldn't handle it. Thinks we're picking on her, so she's walking out."
"At her age, she's still this petty. Unbelievable."
"This is the hardest time of our lives, and she doesn't care at all."
The messages exploded like a grenade.
Hal's aunt was the first to jump in.
"Natalie's mom, don't take this the wrong way, but why are you picking fights with the kids?"
"So your son-in-law said a few things. He's the younger generation—you're the elder. You should be the bigger person."
"Young people have it tough these days. The two of them are barely scraping by as it is."
"If her own mother won't help, who will?"
Right behind her, a cousin chimed in.
"Auntie, what you're doing isn't right."
"It's a dollar. You really shouldn't be making a fuss over that."
"When your kid is going through hard times, a mother should pitch in—money, time, whatever it takes. How can you just walk out?"
"Harvey is your own grandson."
"Don't break Natalie's heart like this."
A message from Third Aunt followed close behind, dripping with that lecturing tone.
"Natalie's mom, listen to your Third Aunt for once. Don't be so stubborn."
"Family doesn't hold grudges overnight."
"You're retired with nothing to do anyway. Natalie is your only daughter—helping her is the least you can do. And she's even paying you a salary! That's more than generous."
"If you leave now, what will people think?"
"They'll say the Chavez family can't even get along."
My fingertips went cold as I read through the barrage of one-sided "advice."
Then a distant cousin-in-law weighed in—the one who never called, whose own son hadn't amounted to much, but who never missed a chance to gloat at someone else's misfortune.
Every word she typed reeked of spite.
"Oh my, if you ask me, Natalie's mom has it made."
"Looking after your grandchild is what grandmothers DO, and she has to be begged to do it? On top of that, she's getting paid?"
"Must be nice. Unlike my deadbeat kid."
"But if you're going to throw a tantrum over something this small, maybe city life just isn't for you. Missing that queen-bee treatment back home?"
A nephew on the fringes of the family piled on next. "Auntie, Natalie's paying you a salary. She's just trying to make sure you're not bored in retirement and have a little spending money."
"Other grandparents watch their grandkids for free. Why can't you just be grateful?"
"Exactly," another relative cut in. "I've never heard of anyone getting PAID to babysit their own grandchild."
"Acting this greedy now—how are you going to look Natalie in the eye when you're old and need her help?"
"Just apologize and get back to it."
"Keep this up, and don't be surprised when your kids and grandkids want nothing to do with you."
Messages scrolled by in a blur, nearly all of them piling on. Ungrateful. Petty. Selfish. Doesn't appreciate what her daughter's going through.
None of them knew I dragged myself out of bed at five every morning. None of them knew what it was like to care for a toddler alone, day after day, until my bones ached.
