Just Wanted to Be Friends
“Vicky always got on better with my mum, you know.”
“Oh, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be embarrassed. Though Im not so sure about myself,” interrupted Lucy sharply, scrubbing the kitchen table with more force than necessary. “If you both got on so well with Vicky, why did you even break up?”
William turned away, sulking, and stared gloomily out the window.
“You already know how that went…”
“I do. So dont bring up your precious Vicky again,” Lucy snapped. “Or Ill be your next ex.”
Lucy was truly ready to take drastic measures.
Shed met William nearly a year ago at a mutual friends gathering. Shed even known Vicky, though not well. It was Vicky whod brought William alongonly to vanish from the scene entirely a couple of months later.
One evening, after a few pints, William had confessed theyd split because hed caught her cheating. Hed even shed a tear. At the time, Lucy had found it endearinga man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something inside her had clicked, stirring an urge to comfort him.
Now, of course, Lucy understood that “something” had likely been her maternal instinct, not romantic interest. But back then, it had been enough to spark a relationship between them.
It had all started so sweetly. Hed meet her after work, drive her home, send sweet messages every day, and ask if shed dressed warmly. Lucy had felt cherished.
Her first real worry came when Vicky herself reached out.
“Hey. Listen, I heard youre seeing William now. Not my business, really, but be careful with him. He and his mum are a package dealpractically inseparable.”
Lucy took note but brushed it off. Love could overcome far worse obstacles, couldnt it? Just because things had gone sour with one woman didnt mean they would with her.
“Thanks for the heads-up, but I think well manage,” Lucy replied. She didnt want to engage furtherit felt disloyal to William.
William, however, seemed entirely unconcerned with her comfort.
When his mother, Margaret, first dropped by unannounced, Lucy tried to be understanding. Perhaps neither of them realised how intrusive it was. Maybe Margaret just worried for her son and wanted to see who he was living with.
Lucy sent William to greet his mother while she scrambled to dress, hastily tied her hair back, and stumbled outsleepy-eyed and puffy-facedto meet her potential mother-in-law. By then, Margaret was already rifling through the drawers in the living room.
“Goodness, what a mess,” Margaret remarked with a condescending smile. “No wonder your socks never match. Lucy dear, after breakfast, Ill show you how to fold clothes properlyno wrinkles, no lost items.”
Not exactly the greeting Lucy had expected. To say she was bewildered would be an understatement. A stranger casually rummaging through her underwear in her own home struck her as outrageously rude. But responding in kind at the start of a relationship felt wrong, so she bit her tongue.
“Oh, darling, look at those dark circles!” Margaret tutted sympathetically. “You ought to try cucumber masks. Or better yet, get your kidneys checked. My friend once”
Lucy smiled and nodded, pretending interest in the ailments of people shed never met. All she wanted was to crawl back into bedit was only eight on a Sunday morning. Shed stayed up late, counting on a lie-in.
A fools hope.
Margarets visit stretched well into the evening. Lucy endured endless critiques and unsolicited advice on watering plants, scrubbing baths, and polishing silverwareeven practising a bit of it. She felt utterly drained. And not once did William step in to help or hint that they needed rest.
“Your mums always this… lively?” Lucy asked cautiously that night.
She didnt mind close families, but some boundaries wouldve been nice.
“Suppose so. What of it? She just wants to be friends,” William shrugged. “Vicky and I used to live with herit was never dull. Now she gets lonely.”
“Please tell me we wont be moving in with her,” Lucy sighed.
“Whats the problem? Dont you like my mum?” William tensed. “Vicky got on with her just fine.”
Lucy stayed silent. Vicky had been eight years younger and the type to butter people up. Of course theyd got onshed probably memorised Margarets friends names and ailments, ironed sheets perfectly, and baked pies to her exact recipes.
But Lucy hadnt signed up for that. She had enough life experience to know: the fewer outsiders meddling in a couples affairs, the better. William, however, disagreed.
“My mums very sociable. Gets on with anyone.”
“Pity not everyone wants that,” Lucy nearly retorted but held her tongue.
Things only worsened. Margaret returned the next morningearly againthis time to inspect the fridge.
“Chicken eggs? I only ever cooked quail eggs for Williammuch better for men,” she declared. “And these shelves could do with a scrub… You eat off these, Lucy dear.”
“I dont eat directly off the shelves,” Lucy thought.
“Ill clean them later,” she promised. “We were hoping to relax today. It is the weekend…”
William, notably, was doing just thatsleeping shamelessly while Lucy played host.
“Nonsense! Weekends are for cooking and cleaning,” Margaret said briskly. “Fetch a sponge and cloth. Next weekend, Ill teach you to make Williams favourite meat pie. Youll love it!”
Lucy froze, arms crossed. Running errands for this woman two days in a row was too much.
“Margaret, perhaps you could call before visiting? Just so we can coordinate plans.”
“Call? Cant I visit my own son now?” Margaret narrowed her eyes.
“Of course you can. But your son lives with me now. Itd be nice if we all considered each others feelings.”
“Vicky never minded,” Margaret sniffed.
“Well, my exs mother never barged in at dawn. She brought cherry pies instead. Delicious ones. Want the recipe?”
Margarets face darkened, wrinkles deepening. Anger flickered in her eyes.
“Think carefully, dear. In this family, the nightingale doesnt outsing the lark.”
With that, Margaret leftbut the encounter left Lucy unsettled. William wouldnt listen, his mother treated their home as her own, and the ghost of Vicky lingered over everything.
“Vickys stuffed cabbage was better… Her mum taught her,” William might remark casually at dinner.
“Then let her teach you. You can cook it for me.”
She suspected Margaret was poisoning William against her but refused to discuss it. She just wanted the whole topic gone.
The next month passed quietlyuntil it didnt. Lucy woke to the doorbell again. This time, she flatly refused to answer. Rude? Perhaps. But was it any ruder than ignoring her hints and invading her home?
Five minutes later, a groggy, irritable William emerged.
“Why didnt you open the door?”
“I dont want to. Guests should call aheadand keep their hands out of my drawers.”
“What? Thats my mother! She came to see me!”
“Then you greet her. But not in my home.”
Williams tantrum likely woke the neighbours. He accused Lucy of rejecting his motherand by extension, him. Margaret shouted through the door, demanding entry, ringing incessantly.
Finally, Lucy issued an ultimatum.
“Enough. Either you explain what guest means and send her home, or were done.”
William chose the latter.
Lucy wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never marriedperhaps a blessing. A life tethered to a man who idolised his ex and came with an overbearing mother? No, thank you.
Months later, surprising news reached her: William had a new girlfriend. A mutual friend shared the details.
“We work together. She moved in with him and his mum but already wants out. Asked to meet you,” the friend chuckled.
“Oh? Why?”
“Apparently, according to Margaret, youre the perfect woman. Beautiful, strong-willed, a brilliant cook.”
“Are we talking about the same Margaret and me?”
“Seems you only earn her praise once youve left William,” the friend shrugged.
From then on, Lucy paid more heed to others opinionsnot blindly, but she no longer dismissed gossip outright. And she grew wary of men who waxed lyrical about exes and clung too tightly to their mothers.
