“Who are you here for?” Mary Fairweather stepped onto the porch with Nicholas and studied their unexpected visitor. “Im here for Mary Fairweather! Im her granddaughterwell, great-granddaughter, really. Im the daughter of Alex, her eldest son.”
Mary sat on the sunlit bench, soaking in the first warm days of spring. At last, the cold had lifted. Only God knew how shed survived this past winter.
“One more winter, and I wont make it,” she thought, exhaling in quiet relief. She wasnt afraid of death anymore. In fact, shed been waiting. Long ago, shed saved the money and bought the clothes for her burial.
Nothing tied her to this world now.
***
Once, shed had a large familya husband, Frederick Fairweather, a tall and sturdy man, and four children: three boys and a girl. They lived well, helped each other, rarely argued. One by one, the children grew up and scattered like leaves in the wind.
The two eldest sons went to university, then moved to cities for work. The middle boy had struggled in school but later built a successful business that took him overseas, where he stayed. The daughter didnt linger in the village eithershe flew off to London and soon married.
At first, the children visited often. Letters arrived, and when mobile phones became common, they called. Grandchildren came one after another. Mary would pack her old, battered suitcase and travel to care for them.
Gradually, the grandchildren outgrew her. Calls became rare. Visits? Unthinkablethere was no time. Jobs, families, their own growing children.
The last time theyd all gathered was when Frederick passed. Hed seemed strong, as if hed live to a hundred. But life had other plans.
After the funeral, the children drifted away again. Calls dwindled to nothing. Mary tried ringing them herself but soon understoodshe wasnt a priority. So she lived the last ten years alone. Once a year, someone might remember to call, and shed smile to herself for a week after.
One afternoon, as Mary sat lost in thought, a voice called out.
“Hello, Aunt Mary!” A young man stood at the fence, grinning. “Do you remember me?”
She squinted.
“Nicholas? Is that really you?”
“It is!” He stepped into the yard, beaming.
Nicholas was the neighbours’ boya child whod never known a quiet home. His parents fought daily. As long as Mary could recall, hed been a hungry little thing. Out of pity, she fed him, gave him clothes her own children had outgrown, and let him sleep over when his parents drank the night away.
They hadnt lasted long. One day, they were gone, and Nicholas was taken away. Mary hadnt seen him since and had missed him terribly.
“Where have you been all these years?” she asked, delighted.
“Childrens home first, then the army, then school. Now Im back to lift up the old village!”
Mary waved a hand. “Lift it how? Everyones left.”
“Ill manage!”
And so, a new life began for Mary. Nicholas found work with Old Farmer Wilson, the wealthiest man in the village. In his free time, he patched up his parents crumbling cottage and helped Mary with chores. She brightenedshe couldnt help but call him “son.” Three happy years passed.
Then one day, Nicholas looked apologetic. “Im leaving, Aunt Mary. Wilsons gotten greedywants work for no pay. Im off to find better wages. Dont be cross.”
“Cross? Of course not. Go with my blessing.”
Alone again, Mary sometimes wept from loneliness. The days dragged, waiting for the end. Yet something still held her here.
****
“Hello, Aunt Mary!” The familiar voice made her turn. There, at the gate, stood Nicholas.
“Nicholas! Is it really you?”
“Its me!” He strode in, tall and well-dressed. “Im backfor good!”
“Oh, what joy!” Mary fussed. “Come in, come in! Ill put the kettle on!”
“Tea sounds perfect,” he chuckled. “Let me fetch gifts from home firstI didnt think Id find you here!”
Half an hour later, they sat at the table, sipping tea from fine old china, talking nonstop.
“I was ready to leave this world, Nicholas,” Mary admitted, wiping a tear.
“Dont even think it!” He wagged a finger playfully. “Now that Im here, well live splendidly! Ive saved enough to start my own farm. Youre not going anywhere!”
Their peace was broken by a bright voice. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Mary peered out. A young woman in a short coat and heeled boots stood in the yard.
“Who are you here for?” Mary and Nicholas stepped onto the porch.
“Im here for Mary Fairweather! Im her great-granddaughterthe granddaughter of Alex, her eldest son.”
Mary and Nicholas exchanged glances.
“I tried calling, but your phone was off. So I took a chance and came anyway.”
“Well, come in!” Mary flustered, while Nicholas grabbed the girls suitcase.
As they sat, the girlVeradevoured the treats Mary offered, chatting eagerly.
“I hate the city. I want village life, but my parents dont understand. Grandad Alex suggested I stay here a few months. He said if I tried it, Id never want to come back. He called you. So did Dad. And me. But we couldnt reach you. I wont be a burdenIve got money! And Ive brought gifts from them. Ill stay till term startsI study remotelythen Ill leave.”
“Stay as long as you like!” Mary said at last. “Itll be a pleasure.”
A month passed. Mary watched from her bench as Vera worked the garden with surprising skill for a city girl.
With Nicholass help, Vera had revived the long-neglected plottilled the soil, laid out beds, put up a greenhouse, and planted seedlings bought from neighbours.
Nicholas, too, was busy. With his savings, hed started building a modern farm. Hed hired men to fix Marys roof and replace her old stove with proper heating.
Mary was happy. She smiled constantly. She wasnt alone anymore.
Only sometimes, a shadow crossed her face when she remembered Vera would leave soon. Shed grown terribly fond of the girl. But time flew, and Vera packed for the city.
“How will I manage the garden alone?” Mary sighed, wrapping pies for the journey.
“Oh, Gran, you just keep the water barrel filled. Nicholas will tend the plants! And Ill be back to weed!” Vera grinned.
“Youll come back?” Marys face lit up.
“Of course! I could never stay away. I love you dearly. And Nicholas proposed! Were marrying in autumn. Whats a girl to do without her farmer?”
A year later, Mary basked in the sun, rocking a cradle where her great-great-grandson slept. Vera and Nicholas were at the farm, thriving togetherand the whole village thrived with them.
Mary looked at the sleeping baby and smiled.
“Not yet,” she thought. “The children still need me.”
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