“We love you, son, but please dont visit us again.”
An elderly couple have spent their entire lives in a small cottage, as weathered as they are. They have no intention of leaving.
Evenings often find them reminiscing about happier timesof which there were many. Their children are grown now, with families of their own. Their daughter lives in the next village over, visiting often, and the grandchildren keep life lively. But their son, Alexander, moved away years ago, too busy with work and responsibilities to visit. Five years have passed since they last saw him, as he and his wife prefer holidaying abroad. Then, one day, Alexander called to say he was coming home.
The news thrilled his parents. They sprang into actionhis father cycled to the shops for groceries, while his mother planned a feast to welcome their beloved son. They counted down the days. Alexander had recently remarried; his first wife had always been restless, and they divorced. No children came of that marriage, and now he was starting anew.
Alexander arrived by car late in the evening, ate supper, and went straight to bed. His parents sat quietly beside him, content just to watch him sleephe was too tired for conversation.
His father whispered excitedly,
“Our boy will sleep well tonight, and tomorrow hell help chop firewood. Well clean out the shed, fetch a fir tree, and decorate the house properlyjust like we used to. Its been years since we last had a Christmas tree.”
His mother added,
“And we must fix the pantry floor before one of us falls through it.”
His father turned in, but his mother lingered, straightening the blanket and fluffing the pillow.
At dawn, his father lit the stove to warm the house before Alexander woke. His mother baked scones. Alexander slept until midday, then stretched and said he hadnt slept so well in ages. After breakfast, he turned on the telly and settled in to watch a film.
His mother asked,
“Son, could you help your father with the wood?”
“Mum, Im only here a few days. Let Dad handle the saunaIll relax while I can.”
The old couple hauled water from the well in silence.
After lunch, his father said,
“The shed needs mucking out. Youre young and strongcould you take care of it?”
“Honestly, Dad, do you think city work isnt exhausting? I came here to rest, not labour.”
After the sauna, Alexander opened a bottle of whisky and spent the evening complainingabout his luxurious flat with its expensive furniture, his pedigree dog, his dissatisfaction with women, his joyless job. His parents listened, exhausted but patient, until they finally excused themselves to bed.
Alexander sulked. “Ill go to my sistersyoure no fun.”
His mother panicked, snatching his car keys and begging him not to drive. He nearly kicked the door down in frustration before storming off to his room, blasting the telly at full volume.
His parents lay awake, unable to sleep. His father crept in later to find Alexander snoring. He turned off the telly and went back to bed.
The next morning, Alexander wandered the woods, returning chilled but cheerful, delighted by the warmth and a hot cuppa on the sofa. He remembered nothing of the night before. His mother nursed a headache all day.
As they packed him a hamper of homemade treats, Alexander didnt refuse.
“This is too much! My wife will love these preservesshes never tasted anything so good. Not that we lack for anything, but Id hate to offend you. OhI forgot your New Years gifts. Next time, I promise.”
His mother wiped her eyes.
“Dont come back, son. We love you, we worrybut you can lie on your own sofa and watch your own expensive telly just as well.”
Alexander knew hed hurt them but had no reply. He waved, climbed into his car, and drove back to the citywhere lifes usual chaos waited.
