PART 2 — The money no one was supposed to see
The next morning I woke up early. I found Lucas in the kitchen. He was sitting in front of a cup of coffee he had barely touched. He looked at his hands. “How long have you known I had problems?” he asked. “Only since you came home.” He nodded. “My whole life I thought I had to be strong.” I sat opposite him. “Who taught you that?” He smiled bitterly.
“The world.” He looked out the window. “When I was twenty, I thought I could do anything.” “At twenty-five, I thought I was successful.” “At thirty, I thought I finally knew how life worked.” He laughed softly. “And now I'm almost thirty-five and I have no idea what I'm doing.” I said nothing. Sometimes a person doesn't need advice. Just someone who stays sitting there.
After a few minutes, I pulled out my mother's notebook. Lucas looked at it. “What is that?” “From grandma.” He didn't want to accept it. “What am I supposed to do with it?” “Open it.” He flipped through the first page. Then the second. His face changed. “This…” He looked at me. “This can't be.” “That's what I thought too.” There were years of savings in it.
Not enough to give Lucas a luxurious life. But enough to pay off his debts. Enough to start over. Enough to breathe. Lucas stood up. “I can't accept this.” “Why not?” “Because it's her money.” “She saved it for you.” “But I abandoned her.” I looked at him. “I know.” He swallowed. “What?” “You made her wait.” He looked at the floor. “But she never stopped loving you.” He sat back down.
“Why is she doing this?” “You'll have to ask her that yourself.” He shook his head. “She shouldn't know how bad it is.” I smiled. “Too late.” He looked toward the hallway. My mother was standing there. She had heard everything. “Come here,” she said. Lucas stood up. He walked over to her. My mother took his hand. “You don't need to be ashamed.” “But grandma…” “Listen to me.” She looked him straight in the eyes.
“When I was your age, I also thought a person only had value if they were successful.” Lucas looked surprised. “I didn't know you thought like that.” “Nobody knew.” She smiled. “When I was twenty, I wanted to become a nurse.” “Really?” “Yes.” “Why didn't you become one?” She looked at her hands. “Because your grandfather got sick.” “And after that?” “After that came your mother.” “And then you were a mother.” “Yes.” She smiled.
“I gave up many things.” Lucas looked at her sadly. “Do you regret that?” My mother thought for a long time. “Some things, yes.” Lucas looked up. She continued: “But having regrets doesn't mean you hate your life.” “It means you realize you could have become a different version of yourself too.” Lucas said nothing. My mother squeezed his hand softly.
“That's why I don't want you to make the same mistake.” “Which mistake?” “Attaching your entire worth to your work.” She pointed to the notebook. “That money isn't meant to buy your life.” “It's meant to give you back your time.” Lucas started to cry. “What do you mean?” “For months you've done nothing but try to pay off debts.” “You forgot to live.” Those words lingered.
Later that day, Lucas walked through the house. He looked at his old room. His old books. A photo of him and his grandmother when he was eight. In the photo, he sat on her lap. She looked younger. He looked happy. He picked up the photo. “Grandma?” “Yes?” “Why did you keep this?” “Why would I throw it away?” “But I've changed.” She smiled. “Me too.” Lucas looked at her.
“You haven't changed.” “Yes, I have.” She pointed to her face. “Take a good look.” He smiled. “You've gotten older.” “Exactly.” “But you're still grandma.” “And you're still my boy.” Lucas rested his head on her shoulder. For the first time in years. That evening he talked about his life. About the stress. About his girlfriend who left him after he lost his job.
About the phone calls he was afraid to answer. About friends he avoided because he didn't want to admit he was broke. My mother listened. No judgment. No advice. Just presence. Then she said: “Lucas, do you know what the hardest thing about getting older is?” He looked at her. “What?” “You see people you love making mistakes.” “And you can't always stop them.” “You can only hope that someday they come back.” Lucas took her hand.
“I'm back.” “Yes.” She smiled. “But don't only keep coming back when things are bad.” He looked at her in surprise. “Come when things are good, too.” Those words hit him harder than anything else she had said that evening. The next morning Lucas decided to rebuild his life. He accepted the money. But not as a gift. He wrote a contract. He would pay back the money later.
My mother laughed when she saw it. “You are stubborn.” “Learned from you.” “That's true.” The first few months were difficult. Lucas eventually found a new job. Not as well paid as before. But he slept better. He started paying off his debts. He called his mother. He called me. And every Sunday he came to see his grandmother. Sometimes he brought flowers.
Sometimes groceries. Sometimes just himself. But after a while, I noticed something strange. My mother became quieter. She sometimes forgot words. She dropped things. And one evening I found her in the kitchen. She stood in front of the oven. Inside was a cake. I looked at the calendar. “Who is that for?” She looked at me. “For Lucas.” “But his birthday isn't for another three months.” My mother smiled. “You never know.” I felt a tightness in my chest. Because suddenly I understood… My mother wasn't just saving money for Lucas. She was also preparing for a day when she would no longer be able to welcome him herself. And that day would come sooner than we all thought.
