**The Door Remains Shut**
*Mum, open the door! Mum, please!* My sons fists pounded against the metal surface with such force, I thought the hinges might give way. *I know youre in there! The cars still in the driveyou havent gone anywhere!*
Margaret stood with her back to the door, clutching a cold cup of tea. Her hands trembled so violently the china rattled against the saucer.
*Mum, whats going on?* James voice grew more desperate. *The neighbours said you havent let anyone inside for a week! Not even Charlotte!*
At the mention of her daughter-in-laws name, Margarets lips twisted. *Charlotte.* His precious Charlotte, for whom hed do anything. Even what happened last Thursday.
*Mum, Ill call a locksmith!* James threatened. *Well break the lock!*
*Dont you dare!* Margaret finally snapped, still refusing to turn around. *Dont you dare touch my house!*
*Mum, why? Whats happened? Talk to me!*
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her thoughts. How could she explain what shed overheard? How could she tell him what shed pieced together, standing in that hospital corridor?
*Mum, please* His voice softened, pleading. *Were worried about you. Charlottes worried too.*
*Charlottes worried.* Of course she was. More likely, she was worried her plans were falling apart.
*Go away, James. Just go.*
*Mum, are you ill? Have you got a fever? Should I call a doctor?*
*I dont need a doctor. I need you to leave me alone.*
Margaret rose and moved to the window. Outside, James was on the phone. Probably telling Charlotte his mother was being difficult again.
Their eyes met for a brief moment before he signalled hed be right up. She stepped back, sinking into her armchair.
A minute later, the knocking resumed.
*Mum, its me and Charlotte. Please open the door.*
Margaret clenched her teeth. So hed brought *her*. His wife, who had their future so meticulously planned.
*Margaret,* Charlottes gentle voice floated through the door, *its me. Please let us in. James is beside himself.*
What an excellent actress. She knew how to soften her tone when it suited her.
*Weve brought food,* Charlotte continued. *Milk, bread, pecan piejust how you like it.*
*Pecan pie.* Margaret gave a bitter smile. A month ago, Charlotte had learned it was her favourite and made a point of bringing it every visit. Such a devoted daughter-in-law.
*Margaret, just say something,* Charlotte pleaded. *Were worried sick.*
*Youre worried,* Margaret repeated under her breath, too quietly for them to hear.
*Mum, Im not leaving until you open up!* James declared. *Ill stay here all night if I have to!*
She knew he meant it. Hed always been stubborn, even as a child. Once he set his mind to something, nothing could change it.
*Fine,* she relented at last. *But only you. Alone.*
*What?* James sounded confused.
*Charlotte can go home. Ill speak only to you.*
Muffled whispers followed.
*Mum, why? Charlottes worried too.*
*Because I said so. Either you come in alone, or not at all.*
More murmurs, then Charlottes voice:
*Alright, Margaret. Ill leave. James, call me when you know whats wrong.*
Margaret waited until the footsteps faded down the stairs before slowly turning the key.
James burst in like a storm, pulling her into a tight hug.
*Mum, youve lost weight! You look awful! Whats happened? Are you ill?*
*Im not ill,* she said, pulling away and heading to the kitchen. *Do you want tea?*
*Yes,* he said, sitting at the table, eyes fixed on her. *Now tell me whats going on. Why have you locked yourself away for a week?*
She set the kettle on the stove and turned to face him.
*Why should I open the door? Whats out there worth seeing?*
*Mum, thats not the point. You cant stay shut away forever. You need groceries, doctors appointments*
*Mrs. Thompson from next door runs errands for me. I leave her a list and the money. And Im not going back to the doctor.*
*Why not?*
She poured boiling water into the cups, adding a spoonful of sugar.
*Because the last time I was there, I heard something I wish I hadnt.*
James frowned. *What did you hear?*
*Your wife. She was on the phone to a friend. She didnt know I was there.*
*What did she say?*
Margaret sat across from him, searching his face. His eyesjust like his fathershonest, kind. Could this man really be capable of such a thing?
*She was talking about selling my flat. Putting me in a care home. Spending the money.*
James went pale.
*Mum, you must have misunderstood. Charlotte would never*
*I heard every word,* she cut him off. *Word for word. And she said: James already agrees. He says his mum cant live alone at her age, its too risky. Well put her in a nice home, sell the flat. The money will cover the deposit.*
*Mum, I never*
*Dont interrupt!* Her voice rose. *And then she said: Thank God his mothers so trusting. She doesnt suspect a thing. Thinks we adore her. But shes just in the way.*
James sat with his head bowed, fists clenched.
*Mum, I swear, I never agreed to any of this. Charlotte gets carried away sometimes.*
*Carried away?* Margaret let out a hollow laugh. *Then why did she go into such detail? About the home? About the money?*
And so, with a heavy but steady heart, Margaret continued her evening alone, knowing that no matter what choice her son made, she would keep her dignity and her home until the very end.
