However, Emily wants to seize the moment and allow her mother to get to know Allison, their daughter.
But things quickly go downhill when the couple realizes that Catherine is doing more harm than good. I knew that when I married Emily, her family would cut her off. I wasn’t what they expected. I didn’t come from a prominent family, nor did I have a big bank balance. “I don’t care, Lucas,” Emily said. “They always think they know best, but this time, they’re wrong.” After our wedding, Emily’s parents vanished from her life — only resurfacing to wish her a happy birthday via text or to send a Christmas card with a series of photographs of themselves.I always wondered if it bothered Emily, they were her parents after all. “No,” she said when I asked her about it one day. “They chose to leave me, not the other way around.” It’s been ten years, and Emily and I have blossomed. Our careers have taken off, so we’re constantly padding our finances. And we have a daughter, nine-year-old Allison. As my parentAs my parents live in a different country, and Emily’s parents have disappeared on us, Allison has only had her parents and our closest friends to rely on. Until recently. Catherine, Emily’s mother, randomly appeared on our doorstep. She held a fruit basket and a bottle of wine. “Emily,” she said after I let her in. “I’m back!” My wife’s confusion was written all over her face. She continued to chop vegetables for our dinner and listened as her mother spoke. “I’ve left your father,” Catherine said. “I realized that he was the one who kept me away from you. I shouldn’t have listened.” I took over the cooking and let Emily deal with her mother. I knew that despite everything Emily had said over the years, she wouldn’t turn her mother away. She missed her more than she could say. Hours later, Emily and her mother were getting on like a house on fire. Catherine’s excitement at seeing Allison did seem wholesome, but I couldn’t shake a nagging feeling in my gut. “Mom,” Emily told Catherine. “Ali has really taken to you. Maybe you could spend more time with her. Take her for ice cream, and maybe even babysit sometimes?” Catherine’s response was unexpected. “Of course, but you know, my time is valuable,” she said smugly. A few days later, Catherine was ready to babysit. “You two can go out for a date night or something,” she said, settling herself in our living room. We left home with Emily feeling content that her mother was with Allison.it happened a few times over the following weeks. And I noticed that my daughter had become more reserved. When we asked her about her time with grandma, she always shook her head and refused to reply. It was very unlike Allison — who was an animated child and got excited easily. Then, Emily was going through Allison’s room, gathering dirty laundry together, when she found a crumpled piece of paper. We had just gotten home from a hike with our friends, and Catherine had been watching Allison. “Lucas!” Emily shouted. I immediately rushed upstairs and found Emily looking at the drawing while going through Allison’s box — the little box where our daughter kept her spending money. “There’s no way,” Emily said, showing me the drawing. According to Allison’s artwork — which depicted Catherine taking our daughter’s pocket money — the box was almost empty now, a few dollars folded into the corner. “Do you think she would do that?” Emily asked, her eyes wide. “What else would Ali spend all her money on?” “Only one way to find out,” I said. rushed downstairs, Emily right behind me, and found Catherine ready to leave, her handbag on her shoulder. “Open your purse,” I demanded. “How dare you?” Catherine exclaimed, looking to Emily for help. “Do it, Catherine,” I said. Reluctantly, Catherine opened her purse, and there was Allison’s pocket money. “I can explain,” she said. “You’d better,” Emily said, her voice icy. “I needed to be compensated. I told you that on the first night, and you didn’t listen. So, I took money from Allison, thinking that you left it with her for me,” Catherine said. Emily’s mouth dropped. “You willingly took money from a child? From your own grandchild?” Emily spat. “Did you know that Allison refuses to talk about you? She never speaks about whatever the two of you get up to. Did you tell her not to say anything?” Emily said. Catherine sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Yes. I told her not to say anything,” she confessed. “Get out,” I declared. “Leave this house and never come back.” Catherine desperately looked to Emily, who refused to make eye contact with her. “You heard Lucas,” Emily said. After that, we sat with Allison and reassured her that she could tell us the truth. She told us about how Catherine found her box when she put Allison to bed on their first babysitting evening. She told me not to say anything,” Allison mumbled. Emily and I decided to take our daughter to therapy, just to make sure that she was okay, mentally. We didn’t know what damage this ordeal could have done to her.It’s been a few weeks and Allison is back to her cheerful self. And we’ve promised her that she will never see Catherine again.