My wife and I had saved for years, penny by penny, for a little cottage in the countryside, and at last, our dream became a reality. For a year now, we had spent weekends and even the whole summer at our beloved retreat.
A bit of help from my mum and dad made a great differencethey were eager for us to fulfil our dream as soon as we could. Our happiness knew no bounds; we threw ourselves into repairs and renovations with great enthusiasm. We built greenhouses beside the garden so we could grow something even in winter, and constructed a sandpit and some swings in the back garden so the children could play. From the start, our friendsmine and my wifeswould appear almost daily, and we’d often stroll down to the river which meandered just a few hundred yards from our home. In the evenings, we’d gather to grill meats over the barbecue; later, some guests would depart but others would stay the night, as not everyone had the means to make the journey home so late. Generally, our acquaintances would congratulate us on having bought the cottage.
After a year, nearly all of them learned the value of moderation. With time, their visits grew less frequent; mostly they appeared for holidays or special occasions, when we would invite them ourselves. But there was one person who never seemed to grasp this. If this woman caught wind of anything happening at our cottage, shed pack her bag at once and descend upon us, quickly fraying our nerves. It mattered little to her whether we wished to host herthe only thing of importance was her own desire.
Now, if my wife and I were alone, I could tolerate her presence. But on top of us, my parents and our young children were often at the cottage too. I wished shed leave, yet every attempt to encourage her to go home proved fruitless. She spent a full two months with us.
She didnt register my many hints that it was time for her to take her leave. I even tried to persuade her to move out, mentioning that my wifes parents would be visiting soon and the house would be too crowded. My friend replied that she would gladly settle herself on the cold floorif only wed provide a mattress.
Her visits followed a familiar pattern: she would arrive on a Friday evening, and the rest of the weekend she’d lounge on the sofa watching television, while my wife and I tended to the garden and watered the plants. Any time we asked for help, she would reply, Ive come to rest.
My wife and parents never uttered a word of complaint about this acquaintance; it seemed I was alone in my growing frustration.
Eventually, the days shortened and the winter settled in. There I sat with her in the cottage, sipping coffee, as she remarked, Oh, its a shame its winter now. If it were summer, Id be visiting you all the time Her words sent a chill down my spine, and inwardly I pondered: this is precisely why I cannot bring myself to tell her outright that I dont enjoy seeing her every single weekendit agitates me terribly. What if she takes offence and decides never to speak to me again?
That, I do not want. I wish deeply that she would stop visiting so often. What should I do?
