“Hello! I’m here about the room advertisement!”
Standing at the doorstep of Mary Johnson’s apartment was a true “wallflower”: she wore worn-out jeans, a faded t-shirt, and her shoes were a pair of well-used trainers. She held a nondescript bag in her hands. Her light, wavy hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, and she wore no makeup. Her eyes, however, were captivating—large, blue, and clear.
After scrutinizing the girl carefully, Mary Johnson nodded. “Come in!”
“So, my dear, don’t waste electricity, don’t leave the water running—be economical, understood?! And keep the place clean! No visitors! Any questions?”
The girl smiled and nodded, “Yes, okay!”
“Easygoing,” Mary thought. “A rarity these days… She must’ve come from the countryside.” Through their conversation, it became clear her name was Elizabeth, she indeed came from a village, where her family owned a farm, and she had moved to study veterinary science.
“Got it! You’ll be treating pigs then!” Mary Johnson concluded.
Elizabeth showed no sign of being offended, only smiled: “Pigs, cows, horses, as well as cats, dogs—all of them! Animals get sick too.”
“Well, yes! No one’s here to treat people, but pigs, sure!” Mary expressed her disbelief genuinely.
Overall, the tenant made a pleasant impression on Mary—modest, not arrogant, quiet, obedient, neat. She’d tidy up, cook, and even offer Mary some of the dishes she prepared. Especially her pancakes: appetizing, thin as cigarette paper, bubbly, and golden brown. Mary’s hand would reach out instinctively for such a treat! These pancakes were culinary wonders; they’d melt in her mouth before reaching the stomach. Mary Johnson and Elizabeth, you could say, became friends, occasionally spending evenings over a cup of tea.
And everything would probably have turned out fine: Elizabeth would have peacefully completed her university studies while living with Mary. But after a six-month stint up north, Mary’s son, Michael, returned home—a strong young man, even a handsome one (“just like his father,” Mary sighed to herself). Mary fondly called him “Michel” in a French manner. The young man grimaced at this, as if in pain, but endured it—“after all, it’s Mum.”
She had raised him alone and perhaps considered him her own. Maybe that’s why the fact that her Michel was chatting amiably with the tenant in the kitchen and devouring her pancakes shocked Mary. And it wasn’t just the pancakes! This “scoundrel” was also consuming the sight of this “country girl” with his eyes. Mary Johnson was stunned by the revelation.
“My son has no taste!” this dreadful thought ran through the head of the possessive mother.
From then on, Mary began to resent her tenant: the floors were not cleaned the same way, her speech wasn’t quite right, and even the pancakes didn’t taste as good. But most of all, Mary was scared by the loving gaze with which her son, her flesh and blood, looked at this “pale thing,” this “farmgirl”…
“He’s never looked at me, his mother, his only close person, that way!” she thought indignantly, crying into her pillow late at night.
“I’ve been fostering a snake in my bosom!” she sobbed into the phone, sharing her sorrow with her close friend, an equally lonely woman of age, Emily Jones.
“I thought Michel wouldn’t even look at that pale thing! That’s why I let her in! But she lined her eyes, let down her hair, and is wooing him with pancakes!”
Emily listened to her friend, sighed and offered her expert opinion: “Oh, watch out, Mary, she might bewitch your son!” Those words added fuel to the fire of hatred and misunderstanding, almost pushing her friend to a heart attack.
Not that Mary believed in things like charms or spells… She called it “nonsense and primitivism.” But the very thought of another woman capturing her son’s attention drove her mad. She spent her days pondering how to steer her son away from this “country girl.” Of course, she didn’t intend to act rudely and kick the girl out. Not then, at least. After all, doing so would lower her in her son’s eyes, and he might leave her altogether.
“No! I need to be clever, somehow make this girl look bad so that my son turns away from her.”
For several days, Mary pondered how to drive her son apart from the tenant. Meanwhile, the girl walked about as if nothing was happening, baking her pancakes, making soups, and pretending not to notice Mary’s piercing gaze. Once she even asked, “Ms. Johnson, are you feeling unwell? You seem a little sad and pale… And you’re eating nothing…”
“It’s fine!” Mary muttered under her breath and retreated to her room to plan the destruction of this “rogue.” Her mind raced with all sorts of thoughts—she even considered poisoning her. But Mary quickly crossed herself, “Forgive me, Lord! What a sin to come to mind.”
While Mary Johnson was considering her next steps, Michael came home one day with a ring and flowers and proposed to Elizabeth! This news made Mary Johnson lose control entirely and, as they say, “snap.”
“Even in front of his own mother, the rascal!” she cried into her pillow all night in despair. “He holds me in no regard! He only loves that girl!” Mary angrily wiped her tears and turned to the window… then noticed her jewelry box on the bedside table. Inside were her emerald earrings. Antique, priceless, a family heirloom passed down from her mother, who got them from her mother. She briefly recalled how Elizabeth always looked at them with admiration, praising their beauty.
“I’ll show you!” Mary hissed venomously, grabbing the earrings, wrapping them in a handkerchief, and tucking them into her purse. She barely had any idea what she was doing or how she would proceed.
***
The next morning, Mary woke in a good mood. Today, she intended to kick this country girl out for good. She came to breakfast with a syrupy smile, spreading butter on her bread, and addressed her son: “Michael, you didn’t by any chance take my emerald earrings, did you? I can’t seem to find them…”
“Mom, why would I? Do I look like a young woman who likes to dress up?” Michael queried in surprise.
Then Mary Johnson turned to Elizabeth with a smile, “And you didn’t see my earrings, did you?”
Elizabeth blushed deeply; the mere thought of being accused of theft made her uneasy, hiding her eyes and on the verge of tears.
“I didn’t take anything,” Elizabeth quietly said, holding back tears.
“Well, what did I say?! It must be her! She pocketed my earrings and sent them to her impoverished relatives in the village…”
“But my family isn’t impoverished,” the girl replied, “and we never took what’s not ours! Why would you say that?”
“And why would you!”— return my earrings at once and get out of here.
“I don’t have anything of yours… You can even call the police!”
“Why call them when they’re probably already locked up with your kin!”
Mary had lost all composure, tumbling further and further into the abyss, unable to stop the vile flow of words directed towards the young woman.
“Mom, what are you saying? Lizzie couldn’t do such a thing! Maybe you just misplaced them,” Michael suggested.
The three of them searched the apartment thoroughly, until Michael accidentally knocked over his mother’s purse, and out fell the handkerchief with the earrings.
He stood there frozen, the earrings in his hand.
“How could you, Mom?” was all he could manage, looking at his mother with eyes full of disappointment.
“I just made a mistake, son, understand, I forgot!” Mary Johnson tried to deceive.
“Mom, I saw everything! You were appalling! Lizzie and I are leaving to find our own place,” Michael declared.
“Wait, you’ll suffer with that girl!” Mary Johnson screamed through her tears.
Michael left the room silently, took Elizabeth by the hand, and they walked out of Mary Johnson’s home.
They rented an apartment, married, and were quite happy together. One day, Michael received a call from Emily Jones.
“Mike, your mum’s in the hospital! She’s had a heart attack. She’s crying, she wants to see you…”
When Elizabeth heard Mary Johnson was unwell, she began to pack immediately, preparing steamed cutlets and chicken broth with pastries. She bought fruits on the way…
Michael didn’t go to see his mother, claiming work was keeping him busy.
***
When Elizabeth arrived at Mary’s hospital room, Mary Johnson burst into tears. She had hoped her son would come, but it was this hateful girl, who had ruined her life, and taken her most precious one.
“Well, why are you unwell, Mum? Here, please eat this; it’s broth and pastries,” Elizabeth said. “Would you like me to feed you while it’s hot?”
“And why didn’t Michael come?” Mary asked quietly, disappointment in her voice.
“Michael is very busy with work…”
Mary Johnson nodded in understanding and cried…
“Forgive me, Lizzie. I’ve wronged you… Please come home, I miss you both terribly…”
“What are you saying, Mum, you didn’t do anything wrong! You just made a mistake, forgot something and got upset! Everything will be fine.”
When Elizabeth left, a fellow patient said to Mary Johnson: “You’ve got a good daughter, beautiful, kind, attentive!”
Mary smiled, “Yes, she’s good!”
When Mary Johnson recovered, it was Michael and Elizabeth who took her home from the hospital. They continued living together in Mary’s apartment until Elizabeth finished her studies. After that, they all moved to Elizabeth’s parents’ farm. The house was large, with plenty of room… and the extra hands were welcome.
Mary Johnson grew so fond of life on the farm she couldn’t bear to hear about city life. Especially after a little boy named Alex was born, adored by all. While Elizabeth’s parents ran the farm, Elizabeth tended to the animals, and Michael managed the farm store, Mary devoted all her attention to little Alex.
Now, you’d often hear her say:
“A lodger like that was a godsend!”
Funny how things turn out.
