Is he moving back in with us now? my father asked my mum, peering over at me.
After work, Mum came home, and I could see the surprise all over her face when she saw me sat at the kitchen table. I’d moved out nearly two years ago, living with my wife, and we rarely saw each other except, maybe, a couple of weekends a month. So for me to be here on a Thursday eveningit was definitely odd.
Has something happened? she said instead of hello, not even taking her coat off.
Arent you happy to see me? I tried to lighten the mood, but her steely-eyed stare made it clear she wanted real answers. I left Mary, I said quietly.
What do you mean, you left? Her tone went sharper still.
Mums never had much patience for jokes, I suppose because of her jobas a manager at a young offenders institute, shes got little time for nonsense. I mumbled, We had a row.
She hardly softened. Well? she pressed, eyes locked on mine. Are you going to turn up here every time you have an argument with your wife?
Were getting divorced! I blurted out before she could go any further.
Mum kept her gaze fixed. I exhaled, She wanted me to help more around the house after work. But Im knackered by the time I come home.
And did your arms fall off, then? Mum shot back. Definitely not siding with me.
She said the same thing. But I told her a womans supposed to look after the home
She cut me off, clearly fed up. Where on earth did you pick up that medieval nonsense? She sounded completely exhausted. All she wanted tonight was a shower, a quiet dinner with Dad, a bit of rest, not me dragging in a heap of outdated ideas and my own sulking. I grew up seeing my parents split everythingjobs, chores, family lifeall done together. Dads never once said anything about mens work or womens work. Somehow, Id convinced myself I was the man in the family.
Im asking you! Where did this rubbish come from? Mum shouted so loudly I was glad I wasnt ten years younger or I mightve wet myself. You think youre out there slaying mammoths every day? Both of you work, youre both providing, so you both share the chores. Or did you tell her to quit her job and keep the house? No? So stop making excuses. Have you ever once seen your father and me fighting over housework? Were smart enough to pull together.
Just then, Dad arrived, carrying his shopping bag, stopping in the doorway.
Something happened? he asked, looking at me in surprise.
Even the questions match, I thought to myself, before answering, Mary and I are splitting up.
Well, youre an idiot, Dad replied without missing a beat, and went off to put away the groceries.
Ian, our sons a fool, Mum announced, summing up my marital strife to him.
So, is he living with us now? Dad asked her, then turned to me. Do you know the origin of spouseit comes from yoke-mate, he said. It means youre harnessed together, working side by side, sharing the load, day after day. If one starts slacking off, the other has to drag double. Thats how the cart ends up broken or someone collapses. No one wins.
That struck home, but I was still feeling raw about Mary. Id expected sympathy, but instead, my parents were both united, lecturing me. They kept their conversation rolling, putting away the groceries together, barely acknowledging me. It was as if I was just an awkward guest; they werent about to coddle me.
Watching them, I wondered how two such strong-willed people managed to be so soft with each other. Theyd always seemed tough, yet together they acted like a pair of gentle rabbits.
So, are you just going to stand there? Dad said gruffly. Go back to your wife and sort it out. Stop filling your head with who owes what. Youre meant to protect each other and help each other, simple as that. Off you go. Your mother and I have got our own lives.
I left, completely thrown. This was not the homecoming Id imagined. But as I walked away, the anger towards Mary faded. I realised Id created all the fuss over nothing. What stuck with me most was this: I want to build the kind of happy family my parents have.
