My son sent me a message: “Mom, I know you just bought us the house, but Sarah’s dad says you can’t come to Thanksgiving.” I stared at the screen, thought about the $350,000 I had spent to give him a home, and typed one word back: “Okay.” That night, I stopped being everybody’s wallet and started being the woman who was about to take everything back—starting with the house they thought was already theirs.

$350,000.

That’s how much love I put into those papers. The biggest present I’d ever given anyone.

I drove down Maple Street with my windows open. The fall air smelled like leaves and apples. The trees looked so pretty with their orange and red colors. I’d been saving money for six whole years to give Danny this gift. Six years of eating sandwiches instead of going to nice restaurants. Six years of keeping my old car instead of buying a new one. Six years of not going on the trips I dreamed about.

Every penny went into one big dream: giving my boy a real home. Something that would last forever.

The big grocery store on Oak Avenue wasn’t where I usually shopped. Too many people. Too expensive. Everything cost twice as much as the regular store. But this was Thanksgiving, so I wanted special food.

I’d planned every dish for weeks. A big turkey with herbs on top. My grandmother’s special stuffing recipe. Those sweet potatoes with marshmallows that Sarah said she loved two summers ago at the family picnic. I’d even written it down in my recipe book so I wouldn’t forget.

The vegetable section smelled fresh and green. I was looking at different pumpkins when my phone made a sound. Danny’s picture showed up on my screen. I smiled.

Maybe he was calling to ask what time I should arrive on Thursday. Maybe Sarah wanted me to bring something special.

I opened the message and read it. Then I read it again, and then one more time. The words didn’t make sense.