The Mother to Whom I Owe Nothing
Emily and James were preparing for their wedding. The day before the celebration, the brides mother, Margaret Harris, visited to meet her future in-law. The meeting took place in Jamess mothers homeCatherine Bennett. They discussed wedding details and shared a meal together. The next morning, as Margaret was leaving, Emily walked her out.
“So, what do you think of James?” Emily asked her mother.
“He seems like a good man,” Margaret smiled, then sighed heavily.
“Mum, whats wrong?” Emily frowned.
“Be careful with his mother, love. Theres much you dont know yet.”
Those words soon made sense.
When Emily learned her mother-in-law planned to live with them, she confronted James directly:
“Youll have to chooseme or your mother.”
“I wont choose,” James answered calmly. “We stay as we are, and she handles her own business.”
“So you wont let her move in?”
“Ive already told her no.”
“How did she take it?”
“She called me ungrateful. Said Id regret it.”
“Expected, really”
Catherine Bennett had retired earlyshed spent years working as a flight attendant.
“Enough. Ive worked hard,” she declared, settling on a comfortable pension, certainly more than most.
But she soon realised it wasnt enough for her lifestyle. The solution was obvious: shift the burden onto her son.
“I raised you, gave you an education. Now its your turn to support me,” she told James when he turned twenty-three. “Starting next month, youll cover rent and groceries.”
“Fine,” he agreed. “But if I pay, you stay out of my life.”
She agreedand, to her credit, never interfered. She had little interest in her sons affairs anyway. James had been mostly raised by grandparents while she chased her own happiness, never quite finding it.
Years passed. James grew up, moved in with her for sixth form. For five years, he paid the bills while she spent her pension on herself.
At fifty, Catherine welcomed Jamess new wife into the house.
“Look at youso put together!” Emily said awkwardly at their first meeting. “You dont look like a retiree at all.”
Learning the newlyweds would live with her, Catherine beamed. “Lovely,” she said, privately thinking, *At least I wont have to cook anymore.*
Emily believed her sincerity, but James warned her:
“She didnt have the nerve to kick me out. Ive paid for everything these last five years.”
Margarets visit shattered the fragile illusion:
“Be careful, darling. That woman only cares for herself. Shell drop you the moment youre inconvenient. Stand by your husbandI like him. But his mothers bad news.”
Six months later, Catherine fell in love. A man named Andrew started appearing more often. Then
“Youve got two weeks to move out. Im selling the flat. Moving to Brighton.”
“Youre serious?” James stared, stunned.
“Its mine. My parents left it to me.”
“And youre throwing us out?”
“Legally, yes.”
James silently grabbed his coat and left. By evening, he and Emily were packing. They moved in with a friend who needed tenants. A month later, Catherine sold the house and left with Andrew.
Days after, James asked to borrow money.
“No,” she said coldly. “Ive got plans for my funds.”
“Right. Good luck, then.”
“You too,” she smirked, not even hugging him goodbye.
A year passed. Catherine calledAndrew had left, taking her money. Homeless, she returned, demanding:
“Im living with you.”
“No. Take whats left, get a mortgage.”
“A mortgage? At my age? On my pension?”
“Find a job. Figure it out, like everyone else.”
“So you wont help?”
“I owe you nothing, Mum.”
She exploded.
“After all Ive done?! You ungrateful”
“I learned from you,” he replied quietly.
Catherine stayed with friends until money ran out. Rejection after rejection. Then back to James.
“Youre not sick or frail. Get a job. Rent a room. *Try.*”
“Dont you feel sorry for me?”
“No. Youre like the grasshopper who sang all summer.”
Later, Catherine sorted herselfnot with work, but a new relationship. Another man, another home.
But thats another story entirely.
