What a delightful sense of honesty you have, Mrs. Galina Mykolayivna!

“How very fair of you, Margaret! So our kids roasted in the garden last summer, then we spent all year fixing up your cottage, and now its Anastasias children who get to enjoy all the comforts while ours sit at home? Youre a real picture of fairness, arent you?” Olga snapped, unable to hold back.

“Well, I said it was for the grandchildrennot just yours!” Margaret retorted. “Did you think I had no other grandchildren? Yours had their turn last year, now its Anastasias. Thats perfectly fair!”

Olga exhaled sharply. “Brilliant logic. So ours sweltered last summer, we broke our backs all year making that place livable, and now Anastasias lot get the pool and the playground while ours stay home? Really, Margaret, your idea of fairness is something else.”

“Bring yours next year, then! The cottage isnt going anywhere. Were family, arent we? Sometimes you help, sometimes Anastasia does. And lets not forgetits my cottage. Ill decide who uses it!”

“Oh, yes, Anastasias contribution was pricelessa single bag of sand for the sandpit. What a sacrifice,” Olga muttered.

“Fair means equal, Margaret. Take mine for a month, then hers?”

“Absolutely not! Id be run ragged in two months with that many children underfoot. Im not as young as I used to be.”

“What about two weeks each?”

“Cant. Ive already promised Anastasia. She and David have leave in Julythey want a proper holiday without the kids. So no changes.”

“Fine. Bring yours next Wednesday, just till Friday. A few days, thats all I can manage.”

Olga nearly laughed. A few days? After all the money and sweat theyd poured into that place? It was an insult.

“Right. I understand perfectly. Goodbye, Margaret.” She slammed the phone down and gripped her head. What now? The children had spent the whole year dreaming of Grandmas cottagethe new swings, the pool, all of it. And now? Now it was someone elses turn.

It had all started so innocently. Last summer, Oliver had visited his mother, and Olga had gone along. She hadnt been to the cottage in a decade, not since his father was alive. Truthfully, little had changed.

It had never been luxurious, but now it was worsepeeling paint, a sagging roof, overgrown weeds. Inside, the furniture was vintage at best, the wallpaper faded, the floor uneven. The air smelled damp.

“Oh, theres so much to do, so much” Margaret sighed. “Oliver, start with the weeds. Ill show you what needs pruning.”

While Oliver worked outside, Margaret made tea. At first, they chatted about school, work, health. Then

“Id love to have the grandchildren here, but what would they do?” Margaret said suddenly. “Catch frogs by the stream? Dig in the vegetable patch? Theres nothing for them.”

Olga glanced around. She remembered summers at her own grandmothers village housecollecting worms for fishing, weaving flower crowns. Simple joys.

“Listen, what if we all chip in and fix the place up?” she suggested. “Bit by bit.”

“Oh, thats exactly what I was thinking!” Margaret beamed. “Why waste money on fancy holidays when we could invest in our own?”

And so they did. By summers end, new windows were in. Oliver repaired the fence; Olga found secondhand furniture for the kids room. The children stayed with Margaret in August and came home glowing.

“Mum, can we go back? Grandmas place is amazing! We found snails and grasshopperseven a mouse!”

“Of course,” Olga smiled. “Next year itll be even better.”

Margaret nodded, pleased.

The whole year passed in renovations. They installed plumbing, redid the bathroom, painted. Bought an air conditioner, built a gazebo, added a sandpit and poolinflatable, but the children didnt care. They begged to go back.

“Youve done wonders!” Margaret said. “Now the children will have paradise.”

Olga had believed they were building something togetherthat this was what family did.

Meanwhile, Anastasia hadnt lifted a finger. Shed listened politely at gatherings, spoken up exactly oncewhen sand was needed.

Now, after all that work, the answer was, “Next year.”

Olga rang her own mother, seething.

“Well, its a tricky situation,” her mother said. “But Margarets played you. She couldve been upfront.”

“What do I tell the children? Theyve been counting on this!”

“Rent a cottage instead. Not cheap, but cheaper than what youve already spent.”

“Wholl watch them? Were working.”

“I will,” her mother offered. “I could use the fresh air.”

Within a week, they found a little place on the citys edgecosy, with an apple tree and a porch that smelled of pine. They brought a pool and swings from Margarets.

“So thats it?” Margaret cried as Oliver dismantled them. “Youll spoil Anastasias childrens fun too?”

Olga folded her arms. “I bought those for my children. Anastasia can buy her own.”

Margaret opened her mouththen turned away.

The next month flew by. Weekends were for barbecues, berry-picking, children splashing in the pool. Evenings on the porch felt warmer than Margarets renovated cottage ever had.

The rental cost far less than a years renovations. Olga couldnt believe theyd ever trusted Margaret.

“It was even better than Grandmas!” the children declared.

Olga smiled. At least theyd have stories to write about their summer.

“Let Margaret and Anastasia put in the work now,” she said on the drive home. “Well manage on our own. Thats fair.”

Shed learned her lesson. Shed still do anything for her childrenjust not on blind faith in empty promises.