My daughter convinced me to go on a seaside vacation: “All inclusive, Mom, you won’t have to do a thing.” I paid for the tickets myself. But when we arrived, I found out I’d be staying with my grandchildren, and she and her husband were staying in a different building.
“This is your room, Mom. Building A, first floor, near the pool. The kids will love it.”
“And you?” I asked, shifting my daughter’s gaze to the room card I held in my hand.
“David and I are in building C.” Anna pointed to the palm trees, water slides, and tennis court. “It’s quieter there. Plus, we have a better view of the sea.”
I looked at her for a moment, hoping she would smile and say it was all a joke.
—What do you mean by building C? We agreed to be together…
