Come in, Mum, we were waiting for you, said her son, David, as his wife Lucy took her coat and set a pair of slippers at her feet. But then Lucys cheerful smile flickered into a frown of concern, settling oddly on her face like a thundercloud in a sunny garden.
Mary wandered into the lounge to greet the guests, while Lucy nodded meaningfully towards the floor. David looked where shed indicated and spotted it, toowet footprints streaked across the polished boards. They exchanged a glance, a silent understanding flitting between them, but decided to leave it unspoken for now within the warm and muddled logic of the dream.
David and Lucy had some splendid news: their newborn twins, still drowsy and small, had reached a new stage, and the young couple had decided to gather the closest kin to celebrate. The living room shimmered with warmth, voices overlapping, the scene unfolding as though painted in watercolours.
Mary, who had retired a few years back, brought heaps of soft, hand-knitted things for the babies. She whispered to herself, counting the stitches, knowing she hadnt enough pounds to spare for shop-bought presents. It was this that made her hesitate to visit, but her son and Lucy had insistedon such a day, the mother must sit among them, centre of the hearth.
The boys had been named Edmund and Charles, a fact that swelled Marys heart, since Edmund had been her late husbands name, and Charles that of her own father. Family tradition stitched carefully through the generations, like a secret thread in a quilt.
How adorable he is, the very image of you, Lucy. And this onelook at him, the spit of you, David. Oh, but Ive got myself all in a muddletheyre as alike as two peas in a pod, Mary fluttered about the cradle, wholly uncertain which baby was which, so identical were their cherubic faces.
David and Lucy only laughed, the sound bubbling up bright and genuine, as Marys gleeful confusion filled the room with a bright, floating lightness, tinged with the odd anxiety that drifts through dreams.
After a while, the guests evaporated, and Mary gathered her things as well. Lucy glanced at her husband, and David turned to his mother, voice softly coaxing:
Mum, why not stay the night? It’s late, the bus might not come, and you could lend Lucy a hand with the boystheir bath and bedtime awaits.
All right, pet, if you say so, said Mary, gently resigned.
She helped Lucy clear the plates and washed up, stacking them in uncertain towers, then the house gathered itself, and they went to bathe the little onesa surreal parade of towels and rubber ducks. Marys eyes shone, round and luminous. When Lucy handed her one of the twins, she flinchedafraid the boy, so delicate, would slip right through her arms and become a puddle.
You raised David without breaking a single bone, Mum, Lucy joked, her words tumbling like marbles.
That was a lifetime ago! Ive near forgotten the way to hold a child, Mary fretted, but took tiny Edmund up anyway, and as if at some secret signal, he instantly drifted into sleep, unaware of the dream’s fragile logic. Lucy rocked Charles close to her own heart.
They set Mary up in the guest room, curling her beneath unfamiliar eiderdowns, to sleep the sleep of those who must be vigilant. She could not close her eyesher senses trained on the faint sighs and gurgles that may come from either Edmund or Charles. So the night passed, half real, half imagined, until just before dawn, exhaustion finally carried her away.
She awoke to the smell of toast, the clatter of mugs. Lucy greeted her bright and eager, while the twins still dreamed layered dreams inside their cots.
Wheres David? Mary asked, puzzled that he was nowhere to be seen.
Dont fret, Mum, come have your breakfast. Hell be in shortly, Lucy reassured, the kitchen bathed in syrupy sunlight.
Moments later, David strode in, arms cradling a large box wrapped in a swirl of blue tissue.
Mum, this is for you. Go on, open it! he grinned, mischief and love bumping along together.
Mary pried back the paper. Insidea brand-new pair of boots, sturdy and shining, filling her with open-mouthed astonishment.
Oh, children, these must have cost a fortune! I couldnt possibly… Mary murmured, her voice shaky and teary.
Nothings more precious than you, Mum. Go on, try themwear them in good health, David beamed.
She slipped her feet into the boots, marvelling at how, in this dream-world, her children somehow knew about her old, split shoes, ruined by rain, that she could never afford to replace.
Suddenly, one of the boys began to cry, and, dreamlike, Marystill in her new bootsrushed towards the nursery, heart buoyant.
Youre remarkable. Thank you, David whispered to Lucy. Id never have thought of it on my own.
Theres nothing to it! Last night, I saw her wet feet trailing across the floor, the sad old shoes by the door, and the rest made sense. Three thousand pounds is a lot for us, but well get by. For your mum, its a mountain she cant climb. Let her wear them with joy, Lucy replied, pulling him close.
And for Mary, it was as if the warmth that filled her was not just from the boots, but from the peculiar, shimmering certainty that, in this dream, she was loved and neededessential to the steady beating heart of her family.
