My Grandson Quietly Gave Me a Walkie-Talkie for Nighttime Talks – One Night, I Heard Something That Broke My Heart (Page 2 ) | July 27, 2025

I helped them buy that place five years back when Lila was pregnant. They looked at me with teary smiles.

“So Max can grow up close to his grandma,” they said.

I handed over $40,000 from my retirement savings. It was a huge chunk of money, but I didn’t blink. Because back then, I thought being near family was priceless.

You’ll usually find me in the back kitchen at Murphy’s Diner, elbow-deep in suds and steam. My hands are always cracked, my joints sore. But bills won’t pay themselves.

When Thomas asked if I could help with Max’s daycare, I said yes without a second thought. Even while pinching pennies, I still sent money each month.

“It’s $800 a month,” he said during the winter. “We’re barely scraping by.”

So I paid. Every month. Because when you love someone, you make a way.

Last Wednesday, I came home after a brutal 10-hour shift. I sank into my chair, aching from head to toe.

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie on my apron hissed with static.

“Daddy? You there?” Max whispered, half-asleep.

I chuckled.

Then came something unexpected. Laughter—adult, not innocent. Lila’s voice, cold and amused.

“Seriously, Tom, we should rent out her spare room. She’s barely home.”

I froze and brought the device closer.

For illustrative purpose only
“That room could bring in $600 a month easy!” she said. “She won’t even notice.”

Thomas laughed. “She’s too trusting. Always has been.”

“And once she agrees to cover Max’s swimming lessons too,” Lila said, “we’ll finally take that Hawaii trip. She can babysit for free while we’re gone.”

My heart went still. Not out of fear—but from the kind of hurt that carves into your soul.

“Best part?” Lila added. “She thinks daycare’s $800. It’s actually $500. We’ve been pocketing $300 every month. She hasn’t got a clue.”

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