So, will he be living with us now? he asked his wife, glancing at their son…
Margaret Taylor got in from work and nearly dropped her bag when she spotted her son, Simon, in the hallway. Simon had moved in with his wife two years ago and at most popped round for Sunday roast or the odd cuppa, so seeing him midweek was a surprise.
Has something happened? Margaret asked, skipping a hello.
Wouldnt you rather see me than not? Simon tried a smile, but Margarets no-nonsense look cut right through him. Ive left Emily, he admitted.
Left her? What do you mean, left her? Margaret pressed. Her job managing a unit for young offenders had made her a tough cookie, not much for silly jokes or dramatics.
We argued, Simon muttered, clearly wanting the ground to swallow him up rather than talk about it.
And? So youll be running home every time you have a spat? she shot back.
Were getting divorced! Simon blurted.
She stared him down, her silence filling the room with demand for more. Simon sighed, She wanted me to do even more around the house, but I come in knackered from work.
Margaret frowned, unimpressed. And youre broken if you help your wife, are you?
Thats just it, Mum! She had a go and I said its the womans job shes supposed to keep the home.
Margaret threw her hands up, half disgusted, half exasperated. Where did you pick up that rubbish, Simon? Im worn out, the last thing I need is you moaning about some medieval idea of marriage. Your dad and I always did everything together and neither of us moaned about pulling our weight. Both working, both mucking in at home, both raising you lot. Theres no job for a man or a woman, you muppet!
Her voice rose so sharp Simon nearly jumped. You didnt grow up seeing us bickering over washing up or laundry. We got on because we were smart enough to work as a team.
Just then, Dad George Taylor came in from work, lugging a bag full of groceries. He paused when he saw Simon. Something happened?
Everyones on the same script, Simon thought, but just said, Emily and I are splitting up.
Well, youre being daft, George replied plainly, heading for the kitchen.
Margaret filled George in while Simon stood awkwardly. George raised an eyebrow: So is this where hes living now? He turned to Simon, firm and fatherly. You know the word spouse comes from to yoke together, right? Husband and wife are supposed to pull lifes cart side by side. If one slacks off, the other ends up doing double. Thats when things break, or someone gets run into the ground.
Simon listened, feeling wounded but slowly seeing the point his folks were making. Hed looked for comfort, but instead of coddling him, his parents were giving him a reality check. As George unpacked groceries and Margaret put things away, they acted like Simon was just in the way, not someone they needed to fuss over.
He watched them work together strong personalities, but soft with each other, like old teddy bears. He couldnt help but wonder: how were they so warm and gentle with each other after endless busy, stressful days?
Finally, George stopped stacking tins and looked up, strict as ever: Stop moping and go sort it with your wife. Chuck out all that nonsense about who should do what. Youre supposed to look out for each other. Off you go now, weve got our own evening to get on with.
Simon wandered out, feeling deflated and completely thrown off by their reaction. But the sting of the argument with Emily had faded too, replaced by a growing sense that hed been a bit of an idiot. One thing dawned on him, though more than anything, he wanted the kind of happy family his parents had managed to build.
