Grandson Not Needed
Mum thinks Emilys weak, my wife Hannah finally managed to say. She says Emily needs more support because she hasnt got a husband around.
And were supposedly stable over here
Stable? I spun around. Hannah, Ive gained two stone since giving birth.
My back is constantly aching, and my knees are cracking.
Doctor said its either I start looking after myself, or in a year I wont even be able to pick up Oliver.
I need to go to the gym. Twice a week, an hour and a half each time.
Youre always at work, your shifts are all over the place. Who am I going to ask to watch our son?
Your mother? Shes not interested in her grandson, shes already got a granddaughter!
I just kept quiet.
Really though, who could she ask?
Hannah pressed her forehead against the cool window, watching as Mums old Vauxhall slowly pulled out of the drive.
The rear lights winked a final goodbye, then disappeared as the car turned the corner.
The kitchen clock read exactly seven.
Mum had been with us precisely forty-five minutes.
In the lounge, I was trying to keep our one-year-old son entertained.
Little Oliver spun the wheel on his plastic dumper truck, glancing at the door where his grandmother had just vanished.
Shes gone? I peeked my head into the kitchen, rubbing my stiff neck.
Flew away, Hannah replied without turning around. Said Oliver was getting cranky because hes tired and she didnt want to mess up his routine.
Well, he did squeak a bit when she picked him up, I tried to smile, but it didnt quite come out right.
He squeaked because he doesnt know who she is. We havent seen her in three weeks. Three!
Hannah turned sharply from the window, banging the dirty mugs into the sink.
Come on, Han, I stepped up behind her, trying to put my arms round her waist, but she slipped away deftly to grab the sponge. Mums just… well, shes used to Daisy.
Daisy is four now, its easier for her, you know.
Its not easier, Tom. She just prefers it with Daisy.
Daisys Emilys daughter. And Emily well, shes the favourite.
The rest of us? Were just spare parts.
Last Friday was a carbon-copy repeat.
Mum popped in just for a tick, dropped off a cheap plastic rattle for Oliver, and was already glancing at the door.
Id barely begun to say Id be out Saturday visiting a work site, and could Mum please watch Oliver for a couple of hours while Hannah nipped to the chemist and shops.
Oh Tom, I really cant! my mother clapped a hand to her chest. Were off to the puppet theatre with Daisy, then Emily wants her all weekend.
Poor girls so worn-out at work shes got to sort her personal life, you know.
Emily was raising Daisy solo, but solo was a stretch.
While Emily went off to find herself and swapped boyfriends, Daisy practically lived at Grans.
Granny picked her up from nursery, took her to dance class, bought her posh coats, even knew all the dolls names in Daisys bedroom.
Have you seen Mums Facebook status? Hannah jerked her head at my phone on the table. Look what your mums posted.
I reluctantly picked up the phone and flicked my thumb over the screen.
There was Daisy eating an ice cream, then Gran pushing her on the swings, then both of them making something out of Play-Doh last Saturday night.
Caption: My greatest happiness, my joy.
She spent the whole weekend with them, Hannah bit her lip so she wouldnt cry. She popped in to us for ten minutes! There its a picture-perfect life.
Tom, Olivers only one. Hes her grandson. Hes your son. Why does she treat him like this?
I had no answer what could I possibly say?
I remembered last month, getting a call from Mum in the middle of the night because the sink was leaking and flooding everywhere, and how Id dropped everything, driving cross-town to fix it.
How Id paid off her payday loan when shed got it to buy Emily a new phone for her birthday.
How Id spent every weekend in May digging her vegetable plot while my sister and Daisy sunbathed on deckchairs.
Lets ask Mum again, I suggested hesitantly. Ill talk to her, explain this is about your health, not just a whim.
Hannah didnt answer. She already knew how that would go.
***
We had the conversation that Tuesday evening.
I put the phone on speaker so Hannah could hear for herself.
Mum, hi. Look, its just Hannah needs to go to the gym, doctors orders. Her backs knackered
Oh Tom, what gym? came Mums brisk voice, Daisys giggles in the background. Tell her to do a few exercises at home.
Maybe cut back on the cakes, then her back wouldnt hurt.
Mum, its not up for debate. GPs written her up for physio sessions and a course of massage.
Could you take Oliver on Tuesdays and Thursdays, six till eight? Ill pick you up and drop you off.
Silence on the other end.
Tom, you know my routine. I get Daisy from nursery at five. Then weve got activities, then we go to the park.
Emily works late. She relies on me.
I cant just drop everything so your Hannah can prance about at the gym!
Mum, Oliver is your grandson too. He needs your attention as well. You see him once a month!
Oh dont start. Daisys a girl, she wants to be close to me, she loves me.
Olivers too little doesnt know the difference. Hell come round when hes older.
Right now Im busy, were just about to do some painting. Bye.
I put the phone down slowly.
You heard that? Hannahs voice shook. So my sons supposed to earn her affection?
Wait till hes at the right stage, then maybe Granny will grace him with her attention?
Han, I honestly didnt know shed say that
I did! Hannah exploded. From the very day we left hospital, and she was two hours late because Daisy urgently needed new tights!
Tom, I dont care that she thinks Im fat or lazy.
But I do care about Oliver. Hell grow up and ask: Mum, whys Granny Anne always with Daisy, and never with me?
And whatll I say? That his auntie was the golden girl, and his dad was just the cash machine and handyman for his mum?
I stood up, pacing the kitchen. I darted about for ten minutes, then suddenly stopped and said,
Thats it! Remember we talked about giving her a kitchen refit?
Hannah nodded.
Wed been saving up for six months, planning the surprise for Mums birthday.
Id found a lovely set, a good team, managed a discount.
It was a sizeable sum just enough for a years premium gym membership and a personal trainer for Hannah.
No more kitchen makeover, I said firmly. Ill call the shop tomorrow and cancel the order.
Youre serious? Hannah stared wide-eyed.
Dead serious. If Mum only has time and energy for one granddaughter, then she can cope alone as well.
Let her ask Emily for help. Let Emily fix her leaky taps and haul spuds down from the allotment.
Well hire a nanny for the slots youre at the gym.
***
Next morning, Mum rang herself.
Tom, darling, I was thinking Didnt you say youd come round this week to check the extractor fan in the kitchen?
Its conked out, smoke all over. And Daisys missing you, keeps asking, Wheres Uncle Tom?
Sat in my office, I closed my eyes.
Before, Id have shot upright, planning how I could squeeze in a trip to B&Q.
But now
Im not coming, Mum, I told her calmly.
Youre not coming? Her tone instantly turned petulant. But the extractor! Ill suffocate in here!
Ask Emily. Or her new boyfriend.
Im swamped these days weve decided to focus on Hannahs health, so all my spare time is booked out.
Ill be the one minding Oliver.
Over this nonsense? she snorted. Youre ditching your mother over your wifes whim?
Im not ditching anyone. Im simply setting my priorities. Just like you do.
You put Emily and Daisy first. Im putting Hannah and Oliver first.
Its only fair.
You cheeky! Mum gasped with outrage. I did everything for you! Raised you, made you the person you are!
And this is how you repay me?
What everything, Mum? I asked quietly. Paid Emilys bills with my wages?
Gave her weekends off while I slogged in your garden?
And one more thing.. that kitchen set, the one we were going to give you for your birthday Ive called it off.
That money is for our family. Well need a nanny, seeing as Olivers grandmother is too busy for her only grandson.
Three seconds later, the phone erupted in my mothers shouting:
How dare you! Im your mother! I gave my life for you! Youve lost the plot with that Hannah of yours!
Daisys a poor mite, she needs love! And your Oliver, what, he lives the life of Riley!
What even made you think I should love him?
My heart belongs to Daisy, shes my precious girl!
Ungrateful wretch! Dont you dare ring me again! Dont even set foot in my house!
I calmly pressed end.
My hands shook a little, but honestly, it felt strangely freeing. I knew this row was just the beginning.
Soon, Mum would call Emily and the WhatsApp accusations would start were selfish, heartless, ungrateful.
Thered be tears, curses, guilt-tripping.
And thats exactly what happened.
That evening, when I came home, Hannah met me at the door. She already knew everything my mother had left her a furious five-minute voice note, calling her every name under the sun, a viper in the grass being the mildest.
Are you sure were doing the right thing? she whispered once Oliver was in bed and we sat down to dinner. She is still your mum.
A real mum loves all her kids and grandkids, Han. Not just her favourites while using the rest as free labour.
I let it slide for ages, telling myself its just her way.
But when she said she didnt care about your health or Oliver, because of her schedule with Daisy…
No. Thats enough.
**
The rows went on for ages.
Both Emily and Mum, cut off from the usual handouts, rang and messaged non-stop: insults, pleas, threats, appeals to brother and son.
We stood our ground, ignored the calls and texts.
Two weeks after the bust-up, Emily turned up at our house.
She started yelling the moment the door opened, calling me a spineless, ungrateful doormat and demanding that I pay Mums bills and hand over cash for shopping and medicine.
I simply shut the door in her face. Id had enough of being the dutiful son.The weeks bled into months. The calls slowed, grew less venomous, then stopped altogether. For a while, it felt like a silence too loud, a wound I kept prodding. Id catch Hannah sometimes, scrolling her phone, re-reading old photos of Oliver with his grandmother, her eyes flickering with doubt.
But something else slipped in, quietly. Calm. We signed up the local college student as a nannyshe arrived every Tuesday and Thursday, arms full of paints and songs, Oliver toddling to her with growing delight. I went with Hannah to her first gym session, watched her beam as she floated out aching but grinning, cheeks pink and bright.
Sundays, instead of mowing Mums lawn or handling Emilys flat tire, we wandered to the park, a family of three. Just us. Sometimes Oliver pointed at a grandmother coaxing a toddler down the slide and Hannahs jaw would tense, but then hed shriek with laughter and reach for our hands, and shed look at me, and Id squeeze her fingers in silent understanding.
On Olivers second birthday, a card arrived: no return address, no note, just a five-pound note slipped inside, folded crisp. Hannah tucked it quietly away, and we never mentioned it.
What surprised me most wasnt the emptiness left by Mum, but how quickly the shape of our lives shifted. The world closed in, tighter but safer. I found I laughed more. I found I wanted to be home, even on the days when Olivers tantrums echoed like banshees down the hall.
One evening, as the sun bled bronze through our kitchen window, Hannah sat across from me, hair wet from the shower, shoulders loose and strong again.
Do you miss them? she asked, voice gentle.
I thought about it, really sat with it.
Sometimes, I admitted. But I dont miss how we were invisible. Or how Oliver was just a name in her stories.
Hannah reached over and brushed a curl from Olivers forehead, where he lay snoring against my arm, luminous in sleep.
Hes growing up happy. Really happy, Tom.
I hadnt noticed the freedom in our laughter. I hadnt noticed the space wed made for ourselves, filled with our little triumphs. I looked around our messy, toy-strewn kitchen and feltfinallyat home.
Maybe it wasnt the family I thought wed have.
It was better. Ours.
