While cleaning up after a family dinner, 65-year-old Adelaide was at the sink when her daughter-in-law leaned in and quietly said, “You old witch, I only put up with you because of my husband.”

Now it had become a battlefield, and I, Adelaide, felt like the losing side. The kitchen was spotless because of a habit ingrained from my decades as an emergency room nurse.

Order was paramount when chaos swirled around you. I put the kettle on and reached for my one small indulgence, which was a box of delicate Earl Grey tea from a little shop near my old workplace.

My daughter in law, Melinda, drank only coffee from capsules and always wrinkled her nose at my tea. While the water boiled, I started mixing batter for waffles.

My son, Phillip, had loved them since childhood. Even now, in the middle of everything, I made them every Saturday.

Maybe it was my quiet way of clinging to a single thread of the past when we were a real family. A faint creak from the back of the apartment signaled that Jace, my youngest grandson, was awake.

At fourteen, he was already taller than I was, with lanky limbs and tangled dark hair. His eyes were perpetually hidden behind long bangs and oversized headphones.

I told him good morning and said that waffles would be ready in fifteen minutes. He merely nodded without bothering to remove his headphones and slumped into a kitchen chair with his tablet glowing in front of him.

I had stopped taking his behavior personally a long time ago. At least he did not snap at me the way his older sister, Skyler, sometimes did.

But deep down, I knew Jace saw everything. He understood the unspoken tension better than any of us.

Skyler’s voice sliced through the morning calm as she strode into the kitchen, already dressed and perfectly made up. She asked if I had seen her blue sweater.

At seventeen, she was a beautiful echo of her mother. She had high cheekbones, a sharp nose, and rich chestnut hair.

But her eyes were Phillip’s soft brown, which she had inherited straight from my late husband, George. I told her that I washed it yesterday and that it should be in her closet on the second shelf.

She snapped that she had already looked there, but then she softened as she caught herself. She apologized and explained that she was just late for her project group meeting.