My daughter convinced me to go on vacation to the seaside: “All inclusive, Mom, you won’t have to do a thing.” I paid for the tickets myself. Upon arrival, I discovered I’d be staying with my grandchildren, while she and my son-in-law would be in a different building.

 

Anna and I sat on her balcony. It was larger than mine and had a view of the sea.

 

On the small table stood two cups, a plate with crumbs, and half a cup of cold coffee.

 

“I overheard your conversation at the bar yesterday,” I said.

 

Anna covered her face with her hands.

 

She was silent for a long time. I didn’t press her, though I felt something inside me shrink.

 

I wanted to hear the truth, even if it was painful.

 

Finally my daughter started talking.

 

It turned out that David’s bonuses had been cut and that for a year they had been struggling to repay their loans and make ends meet.

 

They constantly argued about money, household chores, and the children. Even the most casual conversations about the dishwasher or who would pick up the kids from preschool ended in arguments.