Hell be living with us
A sharp, sober ring announced a visitor. Maggie slipped off her apron, wiped her hands, and padded to the front door. On the threshold stood her daughter, clutching a young man. Maggie let them inside.
Hi, Mum, her daughter planted a kiss on Maggies cheek. Meet Charlie hell be staying with us.
Nice to meet you, the lad said, tipping an imaginary hat.
And this is my mother, Aunt Maggie, the girl added.
Dorothy Smith, corrected the woman, her voice firm.
Mum, whats for supper? asked Maggie.
Pea puree and sausages, came the reply.
I dont eat pea puree, Charlie muttered, slipping off his shoes and drifting toward the bedroom.
Really, Mum? Charlie doesnt like peas, Ethel widened her eyes.
Charlie dropped his backpack on the sofa and flopped down.
This is actually my room, Dorothy announced.
Charlie, come on, Ill show you where youll be sleeping, Ethel called, tugging at his sleeve.
Im fine here, he grumbled, pushing himself up.
Mum, think of something to feed Charlie, Ethel urged.
I only have half a packet of sausages left, Maggie shrugged.
Will do mustard, ketchup, and some bread, he said.
Sounds alright, Maggie muttered, trudging to the kitchen. In the past shed rescued stray kittens and puppies; now shed brought this man home and was expected to feed him too.
She ladled a heap of pea mash onto a plate, laid two fried sausages beside it, nudged a bowl of salad over, and began to eat with gusto.
Mum, why are you eating alone? Ethel entered the kitchen.
Ive just come back from work and Im hungry, Maggie replied, chewing a sausage. If anyone wants food, they can serve themselves or cook it. And one more thing why is Charlie going to live with us?
How come? the lad asked. Hes my husband.
Maggie choked on her bite.
Husband?
Exactly. Your daughter is an adult now; she decides whether to marry or not. Im nineteen, by the way.
You didnt even invite us to a wedding.
There was no wedding, we just signed the papers. Since were now husband and wife, well live together, Ethel said, eyeing her munching mother.
Congratulations, then. Why no ceremony?
If you have money for a wedding, you can give it to us and well find a use for it.
Got it, Maggie said, still polishing off her dinner. Why here, though?
Because the flat has one bedroom and four of us already live in it.
So you didnt consider renting another place?
Why rent when my room is free? Ethel asked, puzzled.
Understood.
Will you give us something to eat?
Ethel, theres a pot of mash on the stove, sausages in a pan. If thats not enough, theres another halfpacket in the fridge. Help yourselves.
Mum, youve got a soninlaw now, Ethel emphasized the last word.
And what? Im supposed to break into a jig for that? Im exhausted from work, lets skip the ritual dance. Use your own hands and feet to clean up.
Thats why youre still single! Ethel snapped, slamming the door to her room.
Maggie finished her meal, washed the dishes, cleared the table, and retreated to her bedroom. She changed, grabbed a gym bag, and headed to the local fitness centre. She was a freespirited woman, spending a few evenings a week in the gym and the pool.
Around ten oclock she returned home, expecting a steaming mug of tea, but found the kitchen in disarray, as if someone had attempted a chaotic cookoff. The lid of the mash pot was missing, leaving the puree dried and cracked. The sausage packet lay open on the counter, next to a stale loaf of bread without its wrapper. The pan was scorched, its nonstick coating scraped with a fork. Dishes piled in the sink, and a sugary puddle glistened on the floor. The air smelled faintly of cigarettes.
Whoa, this is brand new chaos. Ethel never let anything like this happen, Maggie thought.
She opened the door to the hallway and saw the couple from downstairs, wine glasses in hand, smoke curling upward.
Ethel, clean up the kitchen. Tomorrow youll buy a new pan, Maggie instructed, disappearing into her room without closing the door.
Ethel leapt up, chased after her mother.
Why should we clean? And where am I supposed to get money for a new pan? I dont work, Im a student. Do you care about the dishes?
Remember the house rules: eat clean, make a mess clean, break something replace it. Everyone looks after their own mess. And yes, Im sorry about the pan; it wasnt cheap, and now its ruined.
You dont want us to stay, Ethel spat.
No, Maggie replied calmly.
She didnt want a fight with her daughter now, especially not after the earlier calm.
But this is my share, Ethel protested.
No, the flat is entirely mine. I earned it, I bought it. Youre just on the lease. Dont expect me to solve your problems. If you want to live here, follow the rules, Maggie said, her voice steady.
Ive lived my whole life by your rules. Im married now, and you cant tell me what to do, Ethel shrieked. Besides, youre old; you should hand over the flat to us.
Ill give you the whole corridor in the building and a spot on the bench outside. Did you even ask me if I got married? You sleep here alone or with a husband elsewhere. He wont be living here, Maggie retorted sharply.
Fine, get out of your flat, Charlie. Were leaving, Ethel shouted, gathering her things.
Five minutes later, a newlywed soninlaw stumbled into Dorothys bedroom.
Alright, Mum, dont make a fuss and everything will be fine, he slurred, swaying from the wine. Charlie and I arent going anywhere tonight. Behave, and maybe well even have a quiet love-making session later.
What am I, your mum? Dorothy snapped. Your mum and dad are still here. Get your new wife and go.
Yes, Ill the boy raised his fist, aiming at his motherinlaw.
Dorothy clutched his wrist with manicured fingers, squeezing hard.
Ahh, let go, you lunatic! he howled.
Mum, what are you doing? Ethel shrieked, trying to pull her mother away.
Dorothy shoved Ethel aside, kicked Charlie in the groin, and then elbowed him in the neck.
Ill document the assault, the boy threatened. Ill take you to court.
Wait, Ill call the police so they can record everything, Maggie said.
The pair retreated, exiting the tidy twobedroom flat.
Youre not my mother anymore, Ethel yelled as she left. Youll never see your grandchildren.
What a tragedy, Maggie said dryly. At least Ill enjoy my own peace.
She looked at her handssome nails were broken.
Just losses from you lot, Dorothy muttered.
After they were gone, Maggie cleaned the kitchen, threw out the ruined mash and pan, and changed the locks. Three months later, near her work, her daughter appeared, gaunt, cheeks hollow, looking miserable.
Mum, whats for dinner? she asked.
I dont know, Maggie shrugged. I havent decided yet. What do you want?
Chicken and rice, Ethel whispered, saliva forming. And a bit of Waldorf salad.
Then lets go buy a chicken, Maggie replied. Youll have to sort out the salad yourself.
Ethel didnt ask anything else, and Charlie never showed up in their lives again.
