I gave my mother-in-law such a present that it would rattle her to the core! Shivers would catch her every time she looked at it. But she couldnt just get rid of itshed have to keep it, right there on the mantelpiece! Fancy that.
The mouses tears come back to haunt the cat, they say! Annoying Vera, my mother-in-law. In all the fifteen years Ive been married to Andrew, not one kind word from her. Miserable old boot. Others at least say something, if only through gritted teeth. But her? Just silence. Stares at me with her beetle-black eyes. I do my utmost never to visit, stop by for barely five minutes in a whole yearso I was telling my friend Martha.
She nodded enthusiastically, her own stomach souringshe wasnt fond of her own mother-in-law, Mary, either.
We were doing our usual ladies daysince school, the three of us have managed to meet up every other Saturday.
Im Kate, the hairdresser, and always give everyone a bit of a spruce up. I was only in briefly todayclients waiting. Martha, a chef, always brings a mountain of goodies, as my son William calls them.
Our third is Eleanor, a nurse whod just started at a new place. Martha and I were curious, but the chat had drifted back to mothers-in-law.
I absolutely cannot abide her! Shes nothing to me. If only she didnt existwell, thatd be just fine I started again.
But quiet Eleanor finally cut me off.
Would it really make things better for you, Kate? she asked, smirking.
Maybe I sighed, falling quiet.
I remembered this morning, how Id wrapped up the gift, a wicked grin on my lips. How Id handed it to Vera, who immediately started unwrapping it like a child, barely containing herself. But I warned her: open it after Id gone. Id ruined her birthday for her, Id thought, smugly.
By the way, you both kept asking where I’m working now, Eleanor said.
My ears pricked up.
Private practice? I guessed.
Raking it in now, I bet! Martha laughed.
No hospice, Eleanor said, quietly.
A thick silence.
But why, Eleanor? Isnt it frightening? What about the money? I managed.
Oh, do you ever stop with the money? Kate, honestly. I need to say just one thing: youre a fool, Eleanor whispered.
Who, me? Youre calling my mother-in-law an idiot? I shot back.
No, you, Eleanor said, her voice gentle but hard. You and your talkit’s just cruel. Maybe Vera never speaks warmly, but when you and Andrew needed a bigger place for William, who sold her flat in the centre and moved out to a dingy little cottage on the edge of town? Did she even complain? No. Who took your ill son to the famous doctor, who, by sheer luck, happened to be the son of her childhood friend? Who saved your boy when others had no such chance?
And that night at your school reunion when you got so drunk you woke up at a classmates? Even if nothing happened, Andrew never would have believed itexcept Vera covered for you. Told him youd been with her all night. Ive eaten Veras homemade pickles, her jams, her chutneysall the jars she brings you. You dont even know the first thing about gardening, but she grows those tomatoes for you! Some people show their love by deeds, not words. Others talk a good game and never come through.
Well, that was rich. I thought shed back me, but she went and called me a bloody fool!
In the pit of my stomach, something twisted miserably. A tiny worm, that had gloated and schemed, now wriggled in unease as Eleanors words hit home.
Martha, munching through five pasties without saying a word (she always ate when anxious), said nothing to back me up.
I should have stormed out, slammed the door, told them both to get stuffed. And I was ready to.
But that wretched little worm kept me pinned on the spot.
You know Ive not had my mum for fifteen years, right? Eleanor said quietly. You moan about having Vera, but Id give anything to call mine again. Sometimes I even top up her old phone, dial her number, and pretend shell pick up. Just to say whats on my mind, how much it aches without her. I curl up under her old blanket and pretend shes hugging me. Thats what pain is, Kate.
Youve got your mum, and a mother-in-law who loves you, truly. Why treat her this way, an old woman? Why look down your nose? Remember you used to call her Country Bumpkin? One more thingyou always do our hair, make us look lovely. When did you last cut or colour Vera’s hair?
The worm in my stomach seemed to fold in on itself. My voice, sounding not like my own, whispered:
Never.
Are you serious? Oh, Kate! Thats just not right. Youre never cruel to us. I always treat my mother-in-law, bake for her at Easter, bring her puddingsshe loves it all, her chubby little hands all delighted. Shes an angel! Martha beamed.
The worm inside me shrivelled up and vanished. Now I could move.
Memories of this morning flashed across my mind. Martha, with her talk of chubby hands Veras were rough, work-worn, veineda world apart. Id sneered at them and called her face withered spud in my head.
What did I really know about her at all?
Yet Vera was always there when we needed her. Andrew had once told me of his two sisters, both lost young. Vera looked after them, and also her dying husband; she worked herself to the bone. Andrew, her miracle late baby, meant everything.
I still loved Andrew after all these yearshandsome, clever, kind, always reliable.
Hes like that because of how his mother raised him! He couldve been a brute, a cheater, could bring home nothing at all. Not everyone gets so lucky! You never say a kind word to her either, do you? All this time, you never praised her for anything, the ugly little thought jabbed inside me.
Kate, you alright? Eleanor peered anxiously at me.
I shook my head, fighting not to cry. Suddenly, everything inside burst like a dam about to crack.
I tried to change the topic. Hows work, Eleanor?
Girls, their eyesyou never forget them. So much pain, but so much hope too. I hear all sorts about eternity, about regrets, see so many tears. Theres this young manvery successful, always running about, his mum here with us. Barely a week went byshe just wanted him to take her to the village shed come from. He was too busy.
When she passed, he knelt by her coffin in tears: Mum, come back. Ill take you wherever you want now! Ill buy us a house. All I want is you!
And there was this old colonel type, strict, dignifiedhis daughter was dying, little hair left, but he brought her dozens of sparkling hair clips. Not much to clip them to, but she smiled so bright when he gave them. He promised to braid her hair when it grew back, like her mum used to, and take her to the seaside. He laughed with her every day, even knowing He gave away all her hair clips when she died. Said, Shes with her mum now. Theyll wait for me.
You have to cherish these things, girls. Some weep at the grave, cant go on; some battle illnesses; others waste life on pointless spite and drama. And then, one day, it catches up with them all the same.
Martha, fanning herself with a copy of The Times, eyed the now empty plate. Never mind, shed bake plenty at home; she texted her husband to have the family overfilm night, cakes and all, and the in-laws to stay too.
Right, off I goemergency family gathering! Ta-ta! And off Martha slithered.
I stood, hands trembling, rummaging in my bagdropped everything. Eleanor helped me pick it all up, silent.
We parted quietly.
I had errandsa busy evening.
But somewhere, in a little house on the far edge of town, the woman I thought hated me is looking at my presentthe one I gave to jab at her. What if shed given me the same? Id have been heartbroken, my birthday spoiled.
I cancelled my clients, promised them a discount next time. I needed to see Vera.
Andrews phone was off. My palms sweated. What would he say?
Dusk was falling. Yellow windowlight shone out of her small house. Suddenly, the cotton curtains with their daisies and the windowsill geraniums, which had always annoyed me, looked warm and homey.
I should apologise. What to say? Another gift, maybe? There wasnt time. Id promise to make it right. Oh, what a mess Id made.
The door was open. On the big table sat a hand-painted china platter with steaming dumplings, cold summer soup (Andrews favourite), and a pile of stuffed pancakes.
At the table, my husband chatted with William, who was happily tucking into Nanas cabbage rolls. Vera, in her blue dress with the lace collar, her plait down her back, stood by the wall, chatting with her two elderly neighbours and a sprightly granddad.
Isnt it splendid? Vera was saying, holding up my gift.
She carried on: It’s from KateAndrews wife. Shes our own queen, she is. Fair, gentle, such a beauty. I look at her and my heart just sings. How could God create such loveliness? Now, Kate will always be with me. The artist painted herwhen I saw it, I wept for joy. Nothing could be better than this!
My face flushed purple with shame, as if I were five again and caught breaking Grannys vase and blaming my little brother.
The special birthday gift was a portrait. Of me. Id convinced myself Vera hated me so much my face would haunt her; shed be forced to keep it and despair daily. Instead, it turned out
Shes so pretty, Im scared to speak to herlike a doll! Blue eyes, chiselled features right out of a painting. Not like clumsy, ugly old me, who cant string two words together, Vera told the guests. Im not clever with talk. When Kates stayed, Ive straightened her blanket at night, smoothed her hair. God took my girls, gave me anotherAndrews wife, like my own. I always tell Andrew, his wife is gold!
Live with that! The worm in me gave a sniffand faded forever.
I didnt even get to promise to fix thingsthere was still time, and already theyd noticed me. William ran over; Andrew stood.
What are you doing here? You had work. Mum said youd been by this morning, he whispered.
I cancelled. Vera may I call you Mum now? Like my own? Happy birthday, truly, my voice shook with tears.
I half wanted to fall to my knees. Like that man from Eleanors storyat the feet of true wisdom, kindness, forgiveness.
Kate! You found time to come againthank you, darling! You made time for an old woman, you did. Thats my Kate! Shes here! Vera beamed up at me.
Grandad guest made an approving noise, glancing between me and the portrait.
Everything grew lively, laughter all around.
I was gladfor the celebration; that I was healthy; that my parents (en route with gifts) and my lovely husband and son, and yes, my good mother-in-law, were all here with me. That I had work I loved. Truly, I, Kate, was rich indeed!
To the table, to the table! Vera bustled.
What a lovely day! Afterwards, how about a beauty night? Ill do everyones hair! Cuts, colour, you name itId be delighted! I grinned.
That, too, was my present. For everyone.
