I brought the robe—then heard, “Leave.”
“What do you mean it’s none of your business?” Margaret’s voice quivered with indignation. “How isn’t it? I’m your mother!”
“Exactly why it isn’t!” David snapped, not looking up from his phone. “I’m forty-three, for heaven’s sake. When will you get it?”
“Get it, she will,” Sarah added, stepping into the kitchen with a cup of tea. “She always interferes in everything.”
Margaret turned to her daughter-in-law. Sarah stood in a silk robe that probably cost as much as Margaret’s rent for months, glaring at her mother-in-law with barely hidden irritation.
“I’m talking to my son, Sarah,” Margaret said flatly.
“And I’m talking to my husband,” Sarah retorted. “And I’m sick of you showing up every day with your advice.”
“Sarah, not now,” David tried, but his wife pressed on.
“No, let her hear it! I’m tired—tired of being told what to buy, where to buy it, how to cook, how to raise our child. I have my own head on my shoulders!”
Sarah slammed the tea cup so hard coffee spilled. Margaret felt her chest tighten. She had come, as usual, to check on her family—brought homemade mince pies and a new robe for David, whose old one was falling apart. This was the welcome.
“I mean no harm,” she said, voice softening. “I just want to help.”
“Help?” Sarah snorted. “You want to control everything. The daily calls, the daily visits. Let us live!”
David sighed and put his phone down.
“Mum, we really need some—space.”
Margaret looked at David. Her Tom, the boy she’d raised alone after Tom’s father passed. She’d worked double shifts, paid for his university, helped him buy his first flat. And now he asked for space.
“David, I don’t bother you,” she muttered. “I come to see Emily, to bring you something to eat—”
“You can buy your own food, Mum,” he cut in. “We know how to cook.”
“Especially with so-called help,” Margaret snapped. “Yesterday, you fed Emily those takeaway burgers.”
“She’s busy, for goodness’ sake! Not all of us can stay home all day,” Sarah snapped.
“I’m not sitting at home, either,” Margaret shot back. “I’m busy enough!”
“Doing what, exactly?” Sarah taunted. “Complaining to the neighbors about your inconsiderate daughter-in-law?”
Tears pricked Margaret’s eyes. Had she really become a nuisance?
“David, may I?” she asked.
“Mum, we’re not kicking you out. Just—less often, maybe?”
“Much less,” Sarah added.
“Sarah!” David chided.
“What? The truth is the truth. Once a week, no more. This isn’t your second job.”
Margaret grabbed her bag, leaving the pies and the robe inside.
“Where are you going?” David asked.
“Home,” she said curtly. “If I’m unwanted.”
“We’re not sending you away,” David began.
“Are you not? You told me I intrude, that you’re tired of me. Then I’ll stop.”
“Mum—”
“All right, Tom,” she said, pulling on her coat. “I’ve said my part.”
She walked to the door, pausing at the hallway mirror. Family photos lined the wall—Tom as a child in her arms, Tom at school with a science fair ribbon, their wedding day, her hugging Sarah. How had it all gone wrong?
David caught her at the door.
“You know I love you.”
“I know,” she replied, fastening her coat. “And I love *you*. That’s why I won’t trouble you more.”
“It’s not that, Mum, Sarah’s just—”
“Don’t defend her. She voiced her mind. And you? You think it too, don’t you?”
David didn’t deny it. That silence said everything.
“All right,” Margaret muttered. “Live as you see fit. I’ll do the same.”
Outside, a drizzle clung to the sidewalks. Margaret stood under the porch light, uncertain where to go. Home meant an empty flat. The neighbors offered no comfort—what could she say? *My son disowned me?*
She pulled out her phone and dialed her sister.
“Hello, Margaret. What’s wrong?”
“No time. Are you busy?”
“Of course not. Come over.”
Alice lived on the other side of Manchester. On the bus, Margaret hashed through the day. Had Sarah been right? Too many visits? But Tom was her only child, Emily her only grandchild. Who else had she?
Alice greeted her anxiously.
“Margaret, why do you look so pale?”
They settled into Alice’s kitchen. Margaret spilled the story—the argument, the cold reception, David’s silence.
“You see, Alice, I didn’t mean to be a nuisance. I just get lonely.”
“And do they ask for help?” Alice asked gently.
“No. But I see they struggle. Sarah works, so does David. They’re overwhelmed with Emily.”
“Try to see their side, dear. Maybe they want to handle their own problems?”
“How? Feed Emily burgers?”
Alice sighed.
“Remember when Mother-in-law used to visit when we were young? You hated her culinary advice, didn’t you?”
“She ruined my borsh!”
“It’s the same, Margaret. You’re on her side now. You want to help, but it’s not welcome.”
Margaret stayed quiet.
“You’re just a loving mother who can’t let go. It’s painful for both of you.”
They sipped tea as the sky darkened.
“Then what?” Margaret asked.
“Find something for yourself. What do you like besides Tom and Emily?”
Margaret paused. Gardening, books, theater—those had filled her days once. Now, they’d been buried under family duties.
“I’m going to take Italian lessons,” she blurted out. “And there’s a drama group for seniors.”
“You did? That’s brilliant!” Alice beamed.
Margaret returned home late. The flat was silent. She spread the robe on the table—soft, the kind David loved. She’d chosen it carefully, imagining his smile. Now it lingered in the bag. Maybe another time.
She signed up for the drama group and opened old photo albums. Young Margaret so full of dreams. Where had that woman gone?
David called as she was sorting through photos.
“Mum, I’m sorry about today.”
“It’s fine,” she replied.
“You said—what did you mean?”
“I think it’s time I lived for myself.”
A pause.
“Mum, we love you.”
“And I you. But I won’t intrude anymore.”
“Please, Mum—”
“All right. Good night.”
Putting the phone down, Margaret smiled faintly. Tomorrow would be about Italian lessons, plays, and old friends. The scarf would stay in the closet—until it found its way to David, or not.
Whatever the case, she’d start anew.