When Mary and George became grandparents, their greatest joy was doting on their granddaughter, Ellie. But as Ellie matured and neared her college years, they found themselves needing to teach her a lesson—one that involved both matters of the heart and the importance of financial wisdom.
From the moment our daughter Monica got married, George and I felt like we had finally reached a new phase of life. Our only child was starting her own family, and we looked forward to the day we’d be called Grandma and Grandpa.
Until that time came, we decided to make the most of our remaining healthy years together.
A few years later, Monica and her husband Eddie welcomed a baby girl—our granddaughter, Ellie.
Time flew as George and I poured our love into her. She became our second chance—to get parenting right this time around.
“She’s everything,” George said tenderly when we brought Ellie home from the hospital. That night, as we lay in bed, he added, “Let’s give her everything we possibly can, Mary.”
I agreed wholeheartedly. This was our opportunity to do things differently, and now that we were financially secure, we had the means to truly spoil her.
Fast-forward eighteen years, and Ellie was nearly finished with high school, preparing to head off to college. She had grown up before our eyes—strong-willed, independent, and full of sass, just like Monica had been at that age. We cherished every bit of her personality.
But something shifted. Her lively spirit turned into something more abrasive. And soon, that shift would lead to a shocking request that would shake the foundation of our relationship.
That Sunday morning started off as usual—the kitchen filled with the familiar scent of pancakes and bacon, the windows open to the morning breeze. George made us tea, as he always did, just before the doorbell rang.
I turned off the stove and answered the door.
Standing there was Ellie, her eyes avoiding mine.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I greeted her, stepping aside. “Perfect timing for breakfast!”
She gave George a quick nod when he came over. He smiled and offered a hug, saying, “Come in—the bacon’s extra crispy.”
But Ellie pulled back.
“I’ll get straight to it,” she said, her voice unsteady, though she tried to sound composed.
Her demeanor was all wrong. Normally, Ellie would rush in with hugs and kisses, asking how we were and handing us her famous low-sugar cookies. But today, she seemed like a stranger.
“You remember Tom?” she asked casually.
Of course, we did—her boyfriend. He was already in college and living off loans. We had met him several times. He always seemed pleasant enough, but something about him didn’t sit right with me.
“I don’t know what she sees in him,” I had once told Monica over coffee.
“Neither do I,” she replied, slicing into a piece of cake. “Eddie isn’t thrilled about the age gap either, but Ellie insists he’s good for her. She says he’s helping her transition into college life.”
Now, leaning against our wall, Ellie continued.
“Tom has this startup idea. It’s about renewable energy or something. He’s been talking to advisors—it could be really big. But he needs funding to make it happen.”
She pulled her phone out, still avoiding eye contact.
George and I glanced at each other. We both sensed where this was going.
Then came the blow.
“I think you should sell your house and move in with Mom and Dad. The neighborhood’s great, you’d get a lot for it. And you’re older now—wouldn’t it be nice to be closer to family?”
I stared at her, stunned.
“And then what?” I asked.
“Then you give the money to Tom. For his startup.”
George’s teacup rattled against its saucer. His expression was one of disbelief and pain.
“Ellie,” he said calmly. “This house isn’t just property—it’s our home. It’s filled with memories. Why would you ask us to give it up for some business idea that sounds like a risky gamble?”
I didn’t speak. I wanted George to reason with her—he was always the one who could bring her back to center.
“Because you’re my grandparents!” she cried, her voice cracking. “You should want to help me. Tom’s idea will work. We just need this chance.”
The room fell into a thick silence. I could see the desperation in her eyes—she was in deep, completely wrapped up in her love for Tom.
George and I exchanged a glance of shared sorrow. Confronting her head-on would only push her further away.
“We’ll think about it,” George said gently.
After she left, we sat in silence. The weight of her request hung in the air. As I washed the breakfast dishes, George began crafting a plan.
“We need to show her what Tom is really like,” he said firmly. “Not just tell her.”
That’s when he came up with the idea of a fake lottery ticket.
“Johnny can help,” he said. Johnny was our tech-savvy neighbor’s son, known for making creative posters and flyers.
It was a simple plan: create a realistic-looking winning ticket and send it to Tom anonymously, making it appear like he had won a local draw.
And the outcome? It came quicker and harsher than we expected.
Two days later, Ellie stormed in, her face wet with tears.
“What happened?” I asked, wrapping her in my arms.
“Tom’s gone,” she sobbed. “Grandpa told me everything. As soon as he thought he won the lottery, he packed up and left. He said he was going to start fresh in the Caribbean—without me.”
Her voice broke—and so did my heart.
“I thought he loved me,” she whispered. “How could I have been so wrong?”
I held her close, running my hand through her hair.
“Oh, honey, we didn’t mean to hurt you. We just needed to be sure—before we let him change all of our lives.”
As time passed, Ellie began to heal. She came over more often, bringing her art supplies and setting up at our dining room table. She slowly returned to herself.
Tom eventually became just another chapter in her story of growing up.