Became the Housemaid When Alvina announced her wedding plans, her son and daughter-in-law were shocked and didn’t know how to react. “Are you sure you want such a big change at your age?” asked Kate, glancing at her husband. “Mum, why such a drastic decision?” Ruslan fretted. “I get it—you’ve been on your own for years and devoted most of your life to raising me, but marrying now seems foolish.” “You’re young, that’s why you see it that way,” Alvina replied calmly. “I’m sixty-three years old and no one knows how much time is left. I have every right to spend what remains with someone I love.” “Maybe don’t rush into marriage,” Ruslan tried to reason. “You’ve only known this George for a couple of months and you’re ready to change everything.” “At our age, there’s no reason to delay,” Alvina argued. “And what’s there to know? He’s two years older, lives with his daughter and her family in a three-bedroom flat, gets a good pension, and owns a cottage.” “Where are you going to live?” Ruslan was puzzled. “We share a place, but there’s no way to fit another person here.” “Don’t worry, George isn’t after our space. I’ll move in with him,” Alvina explained. “It’s a bigger flat, I get along with his daughter, and everyone’s grown up, so there shouldn’t be conflicts.” Ruslan was anxious but Kate persuaded him to accept his mum’s decision. “Maybe we’re just being selfish?” she reasoned. “Sure, it’s convenient having your mum help us with Kira. But she has a right to her own life. If the chance is there, it’s not for us to stand in the way.” “If they just lived together, that’d be one thing—but why get married?” Ruslan didn’t understand. “I can’t believe I might see Mum in a white dress with wedding games.” “They’re old-fashioned; maybe it’s the way they feel safe and confident,” Kate tried to explain. So Alvina married George, whom she’d met by chance on the street, and soon moved in with him. At first, everything was fine; his family accepted her, George was kind, and Alvina believed she’d finally earned her chance to be happy and simply enjoy each day. But soon new realities emerged. “Could you make a casserole for dinner?” asked Inna. “I’d cook it myself, but work’s been crazy. You have more free time.” Alvina took the hint and soon was in charge of all the cooking, along with shopping, cleaning, laundry—even trips to the cottage. “Now that we’re married, the cottage belongs to both of us,” said George. “My daughter and son-in-law never have time to go and the granddaughter’s still small—we’ll handle it together.” Alvina didn’t mind; being part of a large, close family built on mutual help felt good. Her first husband had been lazy and sly, and left when Ruslan turned ten—twenty years passed without a word. But now everything felt right. The chores weren’t a burden, and the tiredness never led to irritation. “Mum, what kind of gardener are you?” Ruslan voiced his concern. “After those trips, I bet your blood pressure goes haywire. Is it worth it?” “Of course! I enjoy it too,” insisted the retiree. “George and I will grow plenty to share with everyone.” But Ruslan had doubts. In all the months, no one invited them over to meet the family—not even once. Ruslan and Kate had invited George, but he never found the time or energy, so they stopped suggesting it. They came to accept that the new relatives weren’t eager for a close relationship, and just hoped Mum was happy. At first, all was well, and Alvina even enjoyed the busy days. But the demands grew. George, arriving at the cottage, would immediately complain about his back or heart, and his caring wife would settle him down, then tackle the branches, rake leaves, and haul rubbish herself. “Borscht again?” George’s son-in-law, Anthony, grimaced. “We had it yesterday. I was hoping for something different.” “I didn’t have time for anything else, and couldn’t get to the shops,” Alvina apologised. “I spent all day washing curtains and rehanging them, got tired and dizzy, so I lay down for a bit.” “I get it, but I still don’t like borscht,” said the son-in-law, pushing away his bowl. “Tomorrow Alvina will make us a feast,” George interjected. Sure enough, next day, Alvina spent hours in the kitchen; dinner disappeared in half an hour. She cleaned up, then did it all again the next day. But now the daughter and son-in-law complained about everything, and George backed them up and blamed her. “I’m not a young girl anymore—I get tired, and I don’t see why I should do everything myself,” Alvina protested. “You’re my wife. It’s your job to keep order in this house,” George reminded her. “But being your wife should give me rights, not just chores,” she replied in tears. She’d calm down, get back to work, and try to keep the peace. But once, she’d had enough. Inna and her husband were off to visit friends and wanted to leave their daughter with Alvina. “Let the little one stay with Grandpa or go with you, because today I’m visiting my own granddaughter,” Alvina said. “Why should we arrange everything to suit you?” snapped Inna. “You shouldn’t—and I owe you nothing,” Alvina answered. “My granddaughter’s birthday is today, as I told you on Tuesday. Not only did everyone ignore that, but you also want to keep me at home.” “That’s just not on,” George fumed. “Inna had plans, and your granddaughter is too young—she’ll be fine if you wish her happy birthday tomorrow.” “She’ll be fine if we all go now to my children, or you look after your granddaughter until I get back,” Alvina said firmly. “I knew nothing good would come of this marriage,” Inna sniped. “She cooks badly, doesn’t keep things tidy, and only thinks of herself.” “After all I’ve done here over these months, you think that too?” Alvina asked her husband. “Tell me honestly, were you looking for a wife—or a housemaid to indulge everyone’s whims?” “You’re making me out to be the villain here,” George huffed. “Don’t start a row for nothing.” “I asked a simple question and deserve an answer,” she pressed. “If you’re going to talk like that, do as you wish, but in my house, that attitude won’t do,” George said grandly. “In that case, I quit,” said Alvina, packing her things. “Will you take your wayward grandma back?” she lugged her bag and a birthday present. “Got married and came back—don’t ask, just tell me: is there room for me?” “Of course!” cried her son and daughter-in-law. “Your room’s waiting. We’re so glad you’re home.” “Glad just like that?” she needed reassurance. “Why else would we be glad for family?” Kate said. Now Alvina knew for sure—she wasn’t anyone’s servant. Yes, she helped out at home and looked after her granddaughter, but her son and daughter-in-law never took advantage or made outrageous demands. Here, she was simply a mum, grandma, mother-in-law, and family member—not a housemaid. Alvina returned for good, filed for divorce herself, and tried not to think back on what she’d been through.

Became a Maid

When Dorothy decided she was going to get married, her son Oliver and his wife Emily were utterly confounded by the news, unable to figure out the right way to respond.

Are you truly certain you want such a big upheaval at your age? Emily asked, peering at Oliver.

Mum, why such impulsive decisions? Oliver fretted. I get it, youve been on your own for ages, and you spent most of your life looking after me, but surely marrying now is daft.

Youre young, so naturally youd say so, Dorothy replied, calm as ever. Im sixty-three. Nobody knows how long weve got left, so I should have every right to spend the rest of my days with someone I love.

Just dont rush into getting married, Oliver tried persuading her. Youve only known this Harold for a couple of months, and now youre prepared to turn your whole life upside down?

When youre older, you have to hurry. Theres no time for doubt, Dorothy mused. Besides, what else do I need to know? Hes two years older than me, lives with his daughter in a three-bedroom flat in Oxford, gets a good pension, and has a cottage in the country.

But where will you live? Oliver pressed. We share this house, but theres hardly room for another.

Dont worry so much. Harold isnt after our space, so Ill move in with him instead, Dorothy explained. Hes got a big flat, his daughter and I get along, everyones grown up, so theres no reason for rows or drama.

Oliver brooded, and Emily gently urged him to see reason and accept his mothers choice.

Are we just being selfish? Emily wondered aloud. Of course it suits usyour mum helps, shes always with Poppy. But shes entitled to happiness of her own. Since the opportunitys there, we shouldnt stand in her way.

Itd be different if they just lived togetherwhy make it official? Oliver complained. I cant face a bride in a white dress and a party with silly games.

Theyre old-school, maybe it makes them feel secure, Emily reasoned.

And so, Dorothy married Harold, whom shed met by chance near the market, and soon relocated to his flat. At first, everything went well; the family accepted her, her husband was kind, and Dorothy truly believed shed earned happiness on lifes hillside at last, and every day brought joy. But gradually, new patterns emerged from this joint living.

Could you make a roast for dinner? asked Clara, Harolds daughter. Id do it, but works crazy and Ive no time. Youve got plenty of spare hours.

Dorothy caught the hint and soon took up cooking as her calling, followed by shopping, cleaning, laundry, and even helping out at Harolds cottage.

Now were married, the cottage is ours to keep, Harold declared. Clara and her husband are too busy to go, and Evas just a totwell do it all ourselves.

Dorothy didnt object; she quite liked being in a big, merry family built on mutual help and care. With her first husband, things had never worked outhed been lazy and sly, and left without a word when Oliver turned ten. Twenty years had passed and theyd never heard from him again. Now, everything seemed right, so chores felt light, and tiredness never grew sour.

Mum, why play gardener at the cottage? Oliver nagged. You must get dizzy every time you go. Is it worth it?

It is, and I enjoy it too, Dorothy beamed. When we get a bumper crop, well share with you all.

Yet Oliver doubted, as neither Harold nor his family invited them overnot even for introductions. Oliver and Emily had invited Harold over; he promised, but always something got in the wayno time, no energy, no chance. Eventually, they stopped trying, accepting that the new in-laws werent keen on building bonds. Their only real wish was that Dorothy be content and taken care of.

In the beginning, Dorothy found joy in the daily to-do list. But her duties grew, and started weighing her down. Harold, at the cottage, would instantly groan about his back or clutch his heart, while his attentive wife settled him to restand dragged branches, raked leaves, and hauled rubbish herself.

Borscht again? grumbled Anthony, Claras husband. We had it yesterday. I was hoping for something different.

I couldnt make anything new and didnt get a chance to shop, Dorothy answered, embarrassed. I washed all the curtains and rehung themleft me dizzy, so I had to sit down.

Still, I never liked borscht, Anthony pushed away his bowl.

Tomorrow, our Dorothy will treat us all to a feast fit for Buckingham Palace! Harold chimed in.

And the next day, Dorothy did slave in the kitchen all day, only for the dishes to vanish in half an hour. She tidied up, and this cycle repeated. But now Clara and Anthony expressed their annoyance at everything, and Harold backed them up, pinning the blame on Dorothy.

Im not a young girl anymore, and I honestly dont see why its all up to me? Dorothy finally protested after another round of complaints.

Youre my wife, so its your duty to keep things in order, Harold reminded her.

Being a wife should mean I have rights as well as responsibilities, Dorothy said, beginning to cry.

Afterwards, she brushed off the upset and once more did her best to please, making the household warm. But one day she snapped, overwhelmed with disappointment. Clara and Anthony were going out for drinks with friends, and wanted Dorothy to watch Eva.

Let the little one stay with her granddad or come with you, because today Im off to my granddaughters birthday, Dorothy announced.

Why should we all adjust to your plans? Clara burst out.

You shouldntbut I dont owe you everything either, Dorothy responded. My granddaughters birthday is todayI warned you on Tuesday. Not only did you all ignore it, now you expect me to stay behind as nanny.

Thats not fair, honestly, Harold flushed crimson. Claras plans are now ruined, while your granddaughter wouldnt notice if you waited till tomorrow.

Nothing would happen if we all went together to my sons, or if you looked after your granddaughter till I get back, Dorothy insisted, determined.

I knew this marriage would come to nothing, Clara snapped. She barely cooks, isnt tidy, and is utterly selfish.

After all Ive done here these months, do you really agree? Dorothy demanded of Harold. Tell me plainlywere you after a wife, or a housemaid for everyones whims?

Youre out of line, trying to make me the villain here, Harold blinked rapidly. Dont make a fuss out of nothing.

I asked a straight question and deserve an answer, Dorothy held her ground.

If thats your attitude, do as you pleasebut in my house, slackness with duties wont stand, Harold declared grandly.

In that case, I resign, said Dorothy, and set off to pack her things.

Will you take your errant grandma back? She dragged her bag and a present for Poppy. Went off, got hitched, and now Im backnot in the mood for questions, just say: will you have me or not?

Of course! Oliver and Emily rushed to her. Your rooms waiting, and were so glad youre home.

Just glad for no reason? Dorothy wanted affirmation.

Why else do families celebrate someone coming home? Emily smiled.

Then Dorothy was sure she was not a servant. She helped with the house and minding Poppy, but Oliver and Emily never took advantage or got cheeky. Here, she was simply mum, grandma, mother-in-law, and a true member of the familynever the help. Dorothy returned for good, filed for divorce, and tried not to dwell on the surreal episode that felt more like a peculiar dream than real life.