I wanted to spend time with my family, to have them all under one roof, sharing laughter and memories. But that night, as I lay in bed, I heard whispers behind closed doors—conversations not meant for my ears. Secrets. Betrayals. Hidden agendas. It was then I decided: if they wanted to play games, I’d set the rules. And I made sure they wouldn’t ignore them.
I always believed that old age gave you two choices: either you become a quiet, gentle grandmother who bakes pies, hands out candy, and nods off in a rocking chair, or you become a master strategist who keeps everyone on their toes. I was, without question, the latter.
At seventy-eight, I wasn’t the kind of grandmother who knitted sweaters or watched soap operas all day. No, I wore designer robes, drank fresh juice every morning, and hit the slopes on my snowboard whenever I felt like it. Age hadn’t made me fragile—it had made me sharper. Life, I had learned, was all about playing your cards right.
But lately, my children acted like I was invisible. My grandchildren rarely visited because their parents didn’t want them too close to me, afraid that my “influence” might change how they saw the world. And so, I devised a plan.
The cards shuffled smoothly through my fingers as I sat in my living room, waiting for my turn in our usual bridge game. My two best friends, Dolly and Margo, were chatting away, their voices filling the air with the warmth of familiarity.
Dolly sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “I swear, if I get one more bouquet without a note, I’m going to lose my mind!”
Margo, who had no patience for nonsense, arched an eyebrow. “The same admirer as before?”
“Or maybe a different one! I might just be a magnet for romance,” Dolly declared.
I turned my cards over and smirked at Margo. “You do realize she sends them to herself, right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Margo replied, sipping her coffee.
Dolly gasped, deeply offended. “How dare you! For your information, this isn’t about me. Tell me, Vivi, how are your kids?”
I shrugged. “Theoretically alive and well. They remember me so rarely that I sometimes wonder if they’d recognize me on the street.”
“And Gregory?” Margo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Ah, ‘Mr. Grizzly’ is still at home, grumbling about how unfair life is.”
Margo chuckled while Dolly stirred another sugar cube into her coffee. “And his wife, Veronica?”
“Oh, ‘Hashtag’? She’s too busy creating the perfect online life to remember real conversations. But, to her credit, she’s the one keeping their family afloat with her sponsorships and brand deals.”
“And Belinda?”
I sighed. “Still trying to control everything and everyone. No husband, no children, and certainly no time for distractions.”
Margo studied me for a moment. “And your grandchildren? Mia, Theo?”
“Mia, my little philosopher, is probably barefoot in the mountains, explaining to the trees how to achieve enlightenment.”
“She still believes objects have memory?”
“Oh, yes. She once told me that yelling at the microwave hurts its feelings.”
“And what about Scooter, your little detective?”
I smiled. “The only sensible man in this family.”
“He’s still investigating everything?”
“A full-time job. The last I saw, he was crawling under the couch with a magnifying glass, searching for ‘evidence.’”
Dolly clutched her heart. “I love him! Does he know you’re his only ally?”
I sighed. “He still thinks I’m the prime suspect.”
Margo narrowed her eyes. “Vivi, you’re up to something.”
I smirked. “Oh, you have no idea.”
I raised my glass of grapefruit juice, letting the bitterness roll over my tongue. But before I could say another word, a sharp pain struck my chest. My vision blurred. The room tilted. Dolly screamed, “Call an ambulance! Now!”
I woke up in a hospital bed, wrapped in a warm blanket, listening to the doctor drone on about my condition. Dolly stood beside me, her dramatic nature on full display.
“She’s so active, doctor! Will she… be able to live as before?”
“She needs rest. No stress. And most importantly, family around her,” the doctor said firmly.
Dolly and Margo exchanged glances. “We’re staying with you for the weekend,” Dolly declared.
“And we need to call your family,” Margo added. “They should be here.”
I hesitated. If left to them, they wouldn’t even check if I was still breathing. But maybe… this was the perfect opportunity.
“You’re right,” I murmured. “I do need them here.”
Dolly clapped. “Finally, she admits it!”
“We’ll send separate messages,” Margo suggested. “If you ask them together, they’ll assume you’re exaggerating.”
Dolly typed a message to Gregory. “We’ll tell them to pack for a month! Just in case…”
I gave her a pointed look. “Dolly, you’re enjoying this too much.”
“I’m just a dramatic woman,” she said with a wink.
The messages were sent. And soon, my family would arrive—completely unaware of what awaited them.
By evening, they had all gathered. Belinda rushed to my side. “Mom, how are you?”
Gregory followed. “Mom…”
“Oh, my boy,” I whispered, my voice full of calculated softness.
Mia lit incense sticks to “clear the energy.” Theo pulled out a notebook, ready to solve the “mystery” of my condition. Veronica, of course, was already setting up a livestream.
“I don’t need doctors,” I told them. “I need my family.”
They stiffened. Clearly, they hadn’t expected that.
“And that’s why you’re all staying the night.”
Belinda hesitated. “Mom, I have important meetings—”
“Anyone who wants to leave is free to do so. But I don’t know how much time I have left, and I’d like one night with my family.”
Silence. Then a slow nod from Belinda. “Of course, Mom.”
That night, I heard whispers in the hallway. Gregory’s voice: “We need to know if she changed the will.”
Veronica: “We can’t ask her! What if she hasn’t yet?”
Then Belinda, on the phone: “If Mom suspects anything, everything falls apart.”
A chill ran down my spine. What exactly would fall apart?
Then a small shadow darted by. Theo. He froze when he saw me.
“And what exactly are you doing, Scooter?”
“Investigating.”
I peeked at his notebook:
- Mom and Dad whispering.
- Belinda canceled a secret meeting.
- Grandma Vivi playing cards.
I smiled. My dear little detective.
As I returned to my room, one thing was clear: my family had secrets. And it was time to uncover them.
The next morning, I set my napkin down. “I’ve decided what to do with my will.”
Everyone froze.
“The people who inherit my fortune will be the ones who choose to spend my final days with me.”
Game on.
