“We weren’t expecting you,” said the daughter as she opened the door on my birthday.
“Why must you always interfere in my life?” Emily’s voice trembled with irritation. “I’m thirty-seven, a grown woman!”
“Interfere?” Elizabeth Wilson spread her hands helplessly. “I only asked why you and Daniel broke up. A mother has a right to worry.”
“You’re my mother, not an investigator,” Emily turned toward the window. “I have my own life. My own reasons for my choices.”
Elizabeth sighed, carefully folding the half-finished scarf into her bag. Another strained conversation with her daughter. The wall between them grew taller with each passing year.
“Alright, I wont ask again,” she said placatingly. “I just thought you two got along so well…”
“Mum!” Emily spun around sharply. “Lets drop it, shall we? Dont ruin our first family dinner in a month.”
Elizabeth nodded and fell silent. She visited less often nowEmily was always busy with work, friends, the gym, some new course. There was hardly any time left for her mother.
Leaving her daughters flat that evening, Elizabeth felt lonelier than ever. Her sixtieth birthday was in a week, and there was no one left to celebrate with. Her husband had passed three years ago, her old friends had scattered, and her daughter was wrapped up in her own world. Perhaps there was no point in marking the occasion.
But at home, sorting through old photographs, she found one of little Emily blowing out candles on a cake, her eyes shining, cheeks flushed with joy. Back then, Elizabeth had worked as an accountant, barely making ends meet, but she always managed to make her daughters birthday specialcake, presents, friends.
“And my birthday is in a week,” she thought, “and even my daughter has forgotten. Should I remind her?”
She reached for the phone but stopped herself. No, she wouldnt beg for attention. If Emily had forgotten, so be it. What was the fuss about numbersfifty-nine, sixty? Just another day on the calendar.
Yet the thought gnawed at her. A few days later, she finally called.
“Hi, Mum,” Emilys voice was distracted, as if she were multitasking. “Everything alright?”
“Yes, yes, nothings wrong,” Elizabeth hesitated. “I just wanted to say… its my birthday on Saturday. Turning sixty.”
“Oh, really?” Surprise flickered in Emilys voice. “Completely slipped my mind. Works been mad lately…”
“Its fine,” Elizabeth replied quickly. “Just thought Id mention it.”
“Sorry, Mum,” Emilys tone softened. “Ive got a mountain of things to do. But Ill try to stop by, even if just for a bit. Around five?”
“Of course, love,” Elizabeth brightened. “Ill bake your favourite cherry pie.”
“Perfect. Sorry, Ive got to dashwell chat later.”
Hanging up, Elizabeth felt a surge of energy. She hadnt been forgotten after all. Maybe there was still hope for their relationship.
Saturday was unseasonably bright for April. Elizabeth rose early, tidied the house, baked the pie, even popped to the hairdressers for a trim. She bought a bottle of good wine, Emilys favourite cheese, some fruit. She wanted the evening to feel special, warmperhaps even bridge the distance between them.
But by five, Emily hadnt arrived. Nor by six. Elizabeth called, but her daughters phone was switched off.
“Probably stuck at work,” she thought, glancing nervously at the clock. “Or caught in traffic. The roads are dreadful this time of day.”
By seven, she tried againstill no answer. Worry gnawed at her. What if something had happened? Her mind conjured horrorsan accident, a mugging, sudden illness…
Unable to bear it, she called a cab and went to Emilys flat. Perhaps her daughter had simply forgotten. Or mixed up the dates. With her hectic schedule, it wouldnt be surprising.
Pulling up to the building, Elizabeth spotted several cars outsideone looked like Emilys. So she was home. Nothing terrible had happened. Shed just… forgotten? Or chosen not to come without a word?
Her heart heavy, Elizabeth climbed to the fifth floor and rang the bell. No answer for a long moment, then footsteps, and the door swung open.
Emily stood theredressed up, hair done, makeup flawless. Behind her, shadows moved, laughter spilled out.
“Mum?” Emily blinked in confusion. “We werent expecting you…”
Elizabeth froze, clutching the bouquet shed bought herselfa small comfort for a lonely celebration.
“II was worried,” she stammered. “You didnt come, didnt answer your phone…”
A young man appeared behind Emilytall, neatly bearded, in a crisp shirt and jeans.
“Em, whos?” He spotted Elizabeth. “Oh! Hello!”
“This is my mum,” Emily turned to him, then back. “Mum, this is Andrew. Weve… been seeing each other.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Elizabeth extended her hand automatically.
Andrew shook it warmly. “Pleasure! Emilys told me so much about you.”
From inside, a womans voice called, “Em, how much longer? The pastas going cold!”
“Coming!” Emily shouted, then winced at her mother. “Weve got a bit of a gathering. I completely forgot about our plansIm so sorry.”
Elizabeth felt a lump rise in her throat. On her birthday, her daughter was hosting friends, having forgotten her entirely.
“Its fine,” she forced a smile. “Ill go. Dont let me interrupt.”
“Wait,” Emily frowned. “Since youre here, come in. Meet everyone.”
Hesitantly, Elizabeth stepped inside. The flat buzzed with chatter, the clink of cutlery, laughter from the kitchen.
“Were sort of rehearsing,” Emily explained, helping her with her coat. “Planning a surprise for Lucyher big birthdays next week.”
“And mine is today,” Elizabeth nearly said, but bit her tongue. Why spoil Emilys evening? She had her own life, her own priorities.
The kitchen was fulltwo women around Emilys age, another man. They were deep in discussion, papers and trinkets strewn across the table.
“Everyone, this is my mum,” Emily announced. “Mum, these are my friendsKatie, Sophie, and David.”
“Hello!” came the chorus.
Elizabeth nodded, feeling out of place. She didnt belong here, amid this young, lively crowd.
“Mum, are you hungry?” Emily asked. “Weve got seafood pasta and salad. Andrew made ithe fancies himself a chef.”
“No, no, Im fine,” Elizabeth retreated. “I ate earlier. I should be going.”
“Dont be silly,” Andrew cut in. “Stay, really. We were about to have tea and dessert.”
Elizabeth noticed the cakeelegant, glossy with chocolate icing. Not sixty candles. Not for her.
“Thank you, but I must go,” she turned to Emily. “Love, a quick word?”
They stepped into the hall. Elizabeth pulled an envelope from her bag.
“Here. For your new coatyou mentioned you wanted one.”
“Mum, you dont have to,” Emily frowned. “Youre always giving me money. I earn plenty.”
“Its a gift,” Elizabeth insisted. “From mother to daughter. Please take it.”
Reluctantly, Emily tucked the envelope into her pocket.
“Thanks. But honestly, you shouldnt have.”
Elizabeth forced a smile. “Right, Ill be off. Enjoy your evening.”
“Wait,” Emilys brow furrowed. “Why did you come? Is something wrong?”
Elizabeth paused, coat in hand. Could she truly have forgotten? Or was this pretence?
“Todays my birthday, Emily,” she said softly. “Sixty. You promised to come at five, remember?”
Emily went very still. Her face cycled through shock, disbelief, realisation, horror.
“Oh God,” she whispered. “Mum, Im so sorry! It completely slipped my mind! With Lucys party prep, everything just”
“Its alright,” Elizabeth shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just another day.”
“Not just another day!” Emily seized her hands. “Its your sixtieth! And IIm an idiot!”
She dashed to the kitchen, leaving Elizabeth in the hall. Muffled voices, an exclamation, a gasp.
A minute later, Emily returned, the others trailing behind.
“Elizabeth,” Andrew said solemnly, “wed like to invite you to an impromptu birthday dinner in your honour.”
“Yes!” Katie chimed in. “Well rearrange everything!”
“Really, dont trouble yourselves,” Elizabeth protested.
“Trouble?” Emily scoffed. “Mum, take off your coat. Were celebrating!”
Before she knew it, Elizabeth was seated at the table, champagne poured, toasts made.
“Right,” Sophie said briskly, “weve got cake. CandlesEm, those dinner candles will do, yes?”
“On it!” Emily vanished into the bedroom.
“Ill start the toast,” Andrew stood, glass raised. “Elizabeth, Ive known you half an hour, and already I see what an remarkable woman you are. No wonder Emilys so lovely. Happy birthday! To health, joy, and many more years!”
“And may your daughter remember them,” David added, earning an elbow from Emily.
“Candles,” she reappeared, dumping a box on the table. “Well use as many as fit!”
“Presents!” Katie gasped. “We dont have one!”
Emily frowned, then brightened. “I do!” She raced off, returning with an ornate trinket box. “Here! Bought it last weekmeant to keep it, but its perfect for you, Mum. For your jewellery.”
Elizabeth took the boxdelicate, inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
“Thank you, darling,” her voice wavered. “You shouldnt have.”
“I should,” Emily said firmly. “And Im sorry. Ive been a terrible daughter.”
“Dont be silly,” Elizabeth patted her hand. “Just busy.”
“Thats no excuse,” Emily shook her head. “Forgetting my own mothers birthday…”
“Shall we get back to celebrating?” Andrew interjected. “Elizabeth, tell us about yourself. Em says you knit beautifully?”
“Oh, not beautifully,” Elizabeth demurred. “Just little things. For friends, sometimes.”
“Could you knit me a jumper?” David asked unexpectedly. “My gran used to, but she moved up north. I miss them.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth smiled. “If Emily doesnt mind.”
“Mind? Mums jumpers are legendary!” Emily grinned.
The evening transformedwarm, full of laughter. The young people asked about Elizabeths youth, her career, listened with genuine interest. Emily dug out photo albums, and they pored over childhood pictures, laughing at tiny Emilys antics.
“Here we are at the seaside,” Emily pointed. “First time I saw the oceanI was mesmerised! Remember, Mum?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth smiled. “You refused to leave the beach, even at night. Convinced the sea would vanish by morning.”
“I was a peculiar child,” Emily laughed.
“Imaginative,” Elizabeth corrected gently.
Andrew insisted on driving her home late that night, Emily tagging along.
“Mum, shall I stay over?” she offered at the door. “We could talk…”
“Another time, love,” Elizabeth declined. “Im rather tired. Go back to your friends.”
“Theyve probably left,” Emily waved it off. “I want to spend time with you. Ive missed so much…”
In Elizabeths cosy kitchen, they ate cherry pie with tea.
“Lets do this weekly,” Emily said suddenly. “Even just for an hour. And dont wait for an invitationyouve got keys.”
“I didnt want to intrude…”
“Nonsense,” Emily scoffed. “Youre my mum. And… youre the only one I can really talk to.”
They talked till dawnabout Emilys breakup with Daniel (he wasnt ready to commit), meeting Andrew (reaching for the same book in a shop), her plans to start a design studio. Elizabeth listened, advised, just as when Emily was a teenager sharing secrets.
Three days later, Emily returned with another cake, flowers, and a real giftholiday tickets to the seaside, for both of them that summer.
“Remember our trips when I was little?” Emily asked as Elizabeth gaped at the tickets. “Now its my turn to pay.”
“You dont have to”
“I want to,” Emily said firmly. “After all youve done for me.”
Sipping tea in the kitchen, making plans, Elizabeth thought sometimes you must arrive uninvited to remind people you exist. And even if youre unexpectedit doesnt mean youre unwelcome.
