Turned an ordinary rental into a family tradition.
After they passed away, we kept returning.
But somewhere along the way, the tradition changed.
What had once been about spending time together became an annual argument about who deserved what.
This year, I volunteered to organize everything.
I contacted the owner.
Signed the rental agreement.
Transferred the deposit.
Put the utilities under my name, just as the owner requested.
My mother, my sister Emily, and Emily’s husband Todd all promised they would reimburse me for their shares afterward.
I believed them.
Or at least I chose not to make an issue of it.
Then, two days before the trip, Emily texted.
“Money’s a little tight right now. We’ll make it up to you with groceries and stuff 🙂”
A few minutes later, Todd sent me a Venmo request.
Not money for the rental.
A request asking ME to send HIM money for beach snacks.
I actually stared at my phone for several seconds.
Mom said nothing.
She simply packed her giant sun hat, loaded her luggage into Emily’s SUV, and showed up for vacation as though every expense had magically taken care of itself.
I decided not to fight about it.
I could afford the rental.
What I wanted more than anything was one peaceful week.
A book.
Long walks near the water.
