“What’s the matter with you? Where are you going? And who’s going to cook for us now?” asked John quietly as he watched what Claire was doing after her argument with his mother.
Claire looked out the window. The gloomy grey sky persisted, even though it was early spring. In their small northern town, sunny days were rare, perhaps explaining why the people there were often moody and unfriendly.
Claire noticed she had stopped smiling as well, and the constant frown added years to her appearance.
“Mum! I’m going out for a walk,” said her daughter, Amy.
“Alright,” Claire nodded.
“Alright? Give me some money.”
“Since when are walks not free anymore?” Claire sighed.
“Mum! Seriously, why the questions? I’m supposed to meet someone! Hurry up! Is this all you’re giving?”
“It’s enough for an ice cream.”
“You’re so stingy,” Amy retorted, but she couldn’t hear her mother’s reply as she was already out the door.
Claire shook her head, remembering how sweet Amy used to be before she hit her teenage years.
“Claire, I’m hungry! How much longer?” shouted John impatiently.
“Go ahead, eat,” she said indifferently, setting a plate on the table.
“Can you bring it to me?”
Claire nearly dropped the pot. Was he serious?
“People eat in the kitchen, John. Eat if you want, or don’t… it’s up to you,” she said, sitting down alone.
About fifteen minutes later, John showed up in the kitchen.
“It’s cold… yuck.”
“Then don’t take so long.”
“I asked you for it! You show me no love, no care! You know I’m watching the football!” John grumbled as he tossed some chicken into his mouth. “It doesn’t taste good.”
Claire just rolled her eyes. Her husband was obsessed with football. Bets, merchandise, expensive tickets—he was hooked, even though he never showed any interest in sports when he was younger.
Without actually sitting down to eat, John grabbed a can for the mood, some crisps out of hunger, and headed back to the TV. Claire remained in the kitchen, dealing with the dirty dishes.
All her efforts in cooking were in vain. No one appreciated it.
After a tiring shift as head nurse at the hospital, where she’d been dealing with irritated, sick people, she came home to a place that was hardly a sanctuary of warmth and comfort. It was more like a second shift—serve, fetch, wash, clean.
“Is there any more?” John rummaged in the fridge for another can. “Why isn’t there any?”
“You drank it all! Am I supposed to buy more too?! Have some self-control, John!” Claire snapped.
“You’re so sensitive,” John scoffed and slammed the door, heading out to restock for the next match.
Claire decided to go to bed, knowing she had a long day ahead at work. But sleep wouldn’t come. She worried about Amy—where was she, who was she with? It was dark outside, and still no sign of Amy. Claire hesitated to call, knowing it would provoke Amy.
“You’re embarrassing me in front of my friends! Stop calling me!” Amy would bark into the phone. After those confrontations, Claire stopped ringing, reassuring herself that Amy was now 18. She didn’t want to work or study, having finished school and decided to take a break to “find herself.”
After dozing off a bit, Claire was jolted by John’s excited cheers. Apparently, someone had scored a goal. Then he loudly discussed the game with their neighbour who’d accidentally stopped by and stayed. The neighbour even brought his girlfriend over, and they watched the match together. Late at night, Amy finally came home, clanging dishes, stomping around, and went to bed. Just as everything quieted down and Claire could finally sleep, the cat started yowling for food.
“Can anyone else in this house feed the cat besides me?!” Claire shouted, overwhelmed by a headache and lack of sleep. Hoping to be heard, she realized Amy was lost in her headphones, while John snored in front of the TV with a can in hand.
“I’ve had enough… I’m so tired of it all,” Claire thought to herself.
The next morning, her mother-in-law called to wake her up.
“Claire, dear, you remember it’s time to plant the seedlings? We need to go to the country house and tidy up.”
“I remember,” Claire sighed.
“Then we’ll go tomorrow.”
So, Claire spent her only day off working hard at the cottage under her mother-in-law’s supervision.
“Is that how you sweep? You need to hold the broom properly!” her mother-in-law commanded from the bench.
“I’m almost fifty, Vera. I think I know how,” Claire dared to respond.
“Well, John would do it…”
“Where’s your John, then? Why didn’t he bring you here himself? Why did we spend three hours on the bus together? And it’s always John, John…”
“He’s tired.”
“And I’m not? Do you think I don’t get tired?”
And with that, Vera launched into a lecture. Claire regretted not biting her tongue. Vera loved to talk about justice, but her idea of fairness was one-sided and never extended to Claire. Vera had always idolized John, while Claire was just the workhorse she tolerated.
On the bus ride back, the women sat on opposite ends. The next day, Vera complained to John about Claire, which set him off.
“How dare you speak to my mother like that?!” John barked. “If not for her…”
“What?” Claire stood with her arms crossed. She realized she didn’t want to put up with such treatment any longer.
“You’d still be working at the clinic!” John pulled his trump card, reminding Claire that Vera had helped her get a job at the county hospital. The pay was better, but it came with stress and grey hair, leaving Claire regretting she’d traded the calm local clinic for the hospital. “What are you doing?” John quieted as he saw Claire in action.
What Claire decided next was something John couldn’t have seen coming.
