Either your mother moves out, or were done, I warned Eleanor after yet another of her antics.
How much longer can we wait? Well be late! Eleanor glanced impatiently at her watch, shifting from foot to foot in the hall.
Im ready, just need to fix my tie, called Andrew from the bedroom. Wed have left already if you hadnt changed your dress three times.
Dont start with me! Eleanor snapped, irritation flashing in her voice. I want to look decent at your office party, not like a drab mouse.
Andrew emerged in the doorway, knotting his tie. At fortyfive he still kept a trim figure, though a few silver strands had appeared at his temples.
You always look splendid, he said more gently. Especially when youre not on edge.
Eleanor opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment Mrs. Margaret Clarke, Eleanors mother, stepped out of the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea.
Where are you two heading all dressed up? she asked, studying them.
Andrews got a corporate function, Mum. I mentioned it this morning, Eleanor corrected, adjusting her earrings.
Ah, right, Id forgotten, Margaret sipped her tea. And why so late? Its already nine.
Were in a hurry, Andrew tried to stay calm, though his stomach churned. Eleanor, shall we take a cab? Or drive?
A cab, please. Id like you to be able to relax as well. Eleanor pulled out her phone.
Good call, Margaret interjected. Men are always quick to drink, but slow to take responsibility.
Andrew clenched his teeth, counting silently to ten. Every comment from his motherinlaw sounded like an accusation, even when she spoke of the weather.
Mum, please, Eleanor whispered, casting a pleading glance at Andrew.
Alright, Ill be quiet, Margaret retreated to the kitchen, leaving the door ajar to eavesdrop.
The cab will be here in five minutes, Eleanor said, slipping her phone into her evening bag.
Got it, Andrew took his jacket. Did you get the keys?
Yes, I have everything.
Mrs. Clarke reappeared from the kitchen.
When will you be back? Should I lock the door for the night?
No need, Mum. We have the keys.
What if you lose them? Or have a bit too much to drink? Margaret eyed Andrew skeptically.
We wont lose them, Andrew snapped. I know my limits.
Everyone says that, then, she began, but a sudden knock at the door cut her off. The cab arrived, and Andrew exhaled with relief. Another evening free of his motherinlaws remarks.
Dont stay out too late! Margaret shouted after them.
In the cab, Eleanor squeezed Andrews hand.
Sorry about my mother. Shes just worried.
Of course, Andrew replied, watching the dark streetlights flicker past. Sometimes he imagined himself among the bustling crowd, free of the constant feeling that every step was being judged.
Three months earlier Margaret had moved in after the death of Eleanors father, a temporary arrangement, Eleanor had said, until her mother got used to life without him. What was meant to be temporary turned permanent, and their threebedroom flat began to feel like a cramped cage for Andrew.
The corporate dinner was held in a stylish restaurant in the City of London, with live piano and guests in their finest. Andrew gradually relaxed, chatting with colleagues and their partners. Eleanor shone in a dark navy dress, charming everyone around her.
You have a wonderful wife, said Victor Somerset, the company director, as they lingered by the bar. A true lady.
Thank you, Andrew replied proudly, watching Eleanor animatedly converse with Victors wife. Weve been married fifteen years this April.
Impressive, Victor nodded. Any children?
No, Andrew shook his head. We tried for years, but the doctors always said everything was fine, just a matter of waiting. Eventually we decided we were happy just the two of us.
The evening wore on. Andrew had two glasses of wine, no morehe always knew his limit, contrary to Margarets opinion. By eleven he was ready to leave.
Shall we stay a bit longer? Eleanor suggested, We just started dancing.
Give us another half hour, then well go, Andrew agreed. Tomorrows a workday.
Eleanor smiled and pulled him onto the dance floor. To a soft waltz they swayed, feeling like they were back in their youth. Andrew pressed her close, inhaling the scent of her perfume, thinking perhaps things werent so bad after all.
They returned home close to midnight. The flat was still lit, though they hoped Margaret was already asleep.
I finally figured out where you are, Margarets voice announced as they crossed the threshold. I thought I might have to call the police.
Mum, it was just a work function, Eleanor sighed.
In my day respectable people didnt come home so late, Margaret whispered, pursed lips. And you smell of spirits, Andrew.
Ive had only two glasses all night, he said, keeping his tone level.
Everyone says that, Eleanor intervened. Lets talk tomorrow.
Sure, sure, Margaret sighed dramatically. My opinion means nothing here.
Andrew slipped to the bathroom, letting the hot water wash away the irritation and fatigue that had built up over fifteen years of marriage. He had never felt such tension before. When he emerged, Eleanor was already in bed.
Dont mind your mother, she murmured. Its been hard for her since her husband passed.
I know, Andrew lay down beside her. But this has been going on for three months now. We cant even speak normally; shes always there, always commenting.
Give her time, Eleanor stroked his hand. Shell adjust.
Andrew wanted to admit he feared getting used to the constant nitpicking, the need to account for every move, the lack of personal space, but he stayed silent. Eleanor drifted to sleep, and he faced a long workday ahead.
Morning began with the smell of fried fishsomething Andrew had loathed since childhood, a fact Margaret knew all too well. He grimaced as he entered the kitchen.
Morning, Margaret grumbled, breakfast is almost ready.
Thanks, but Ill have a bite at the office, Andrew poured coffee, hurrying.
Always the same, she sighed theatrically. My cooking never suits the boss.
Its not that, he muttered, sipping the hot brew. Im just in a rush.
Eleanor will have breakfast at home, being the proper wife, Margaret declared, placing an imposing piece of fish on a plate. Not like some people who gallop around like lunatics.
Andrew finished his coffee without a word and left the kitchen. In the hallway he found Eleanor, still halfasleep.
Leaving already? she asked.
Yes, a lot to do, he kissed her cheek. Your mum made fish.
Oh, not again, Eleanor grimaced. Ill speak to her.
No need, Andrew said wearily. It wont change anything.
The workday dragged on, his mind constantly returning to the domestic discord. At lunch, Eleanor called.
Hey, hows it going? her voice was tense.
Fine, just work. Whats up?
Mum was sorting through your things in the wardrobe. She says shes tidying up. I told her you dont like anyone touching your stuff, and she got upset.
Marian, Im fed up, Andrew snapped. Why does she think she can run our house?
She just wants to help, Eleanor defended. Shes always busy, needs something to do.
Let her mind her own business! Andrew raised his voice, then realized colleagues could hear. Ill call back later.
He stared out the window, wondering if perhaps they should ask Margaret to move back to her own flat. She had sold hers shortly after her husbands death, saying the memories were too much, leaving them with no clear way back.
That evening Andrew stayed late at the office, avoiding the thought of returning to a house full of comments. When he finally got home, Eleanor met him with a guilty look.
Something happen? he asked, removing his shoes.
Mum accidentally broke your model airplane, she said quietly. The one you brought back from Germany.
Andrew froze. The rare Messerschmitt he had painstakingly assembled for months lay in pieces on the floor.
Accidentally? he repeated.
Yes, she was vacuuming, the cord snagged the cupboard and the model fell.
Why was she vacuuming in my study? he asked, anger rising. We agreed that was the one room she never entered!
She wanted to do us a favor, Eleanor whispered, eyes downcast. She knew Id be late and thought she could tidy up.
Where is she now?
Shes at the neighbours, said shed come back when you calmed down.
Andrew walked to his study. The shattered fuselage stared back at him, wings broken, the painstaking work of months reduced to scrap.
This is the last straw, he said softly, looking at the wreckage.
Andrew, please, Eleanor pleaded from behind him. She didnt mean it.
Its not about the plane, he turned to her. Its that your mother never respects our space, our rules, our relationship. Shes constantly intruding.
Shes only worried about us, Eleanor tried to defend, but her voice lacked conviction.
No, Margaret isnt worried. Shes controlling. I cant live like this any longer.
What do you mean? Eleanors eyes widened with fear.
Either your mother moves out, or we divorce, I said, the ultimatum hanging heavy in the room. Im not joking. Im at my limit.
Eleanor recoiled as if struck.
You cant be serious! Throw your own mother out?
Im not throwing her out. She could rent a flat next door. Wed help her financially, visit oftenjust not under the same roof.
What if I choose my mother? she asked softly.
Then well have to part ways, I answered quietly. Fifteen years Ive put you first, but the past three months I feel like a guest in my own home.
Tears streamed down Eleanors cheeks.
Its unfair! Mums alone, she needs support!
And I need my wife, my home, a place where I can unwind without waiting for another remark or interference, I said, stepping closer.
At that moment the front door slammed openMargaret was back. Hearing the raised voices, she walked straight into the hallway.
Oh, youve arrived, she began, as if just now hearing the gossip about me. Probably youve already told Eleanor all sorts of nasty things about me? By the way, that toy of yours was already gathering dust, no use at all.
Mum! Eleanor exclaimed. Please, not now.
When? Margaret retorted. When will your husband finally listen to the truth? He
Enough, I interjected, surprised by my own calm. Margaret, lets sit down and speak like adults.
She fell silent, taken aback. We moved to the sitting room, taking our places: I in an armchair, Eleanor and Margaret on the sofa.
I understand your grief, I started. Losing a husband after so many years is hard. But you must see our side too. Eleanor and I have built a life together for fifteen years, and now that life is under threat.
Because of me? Margaret snapped.
Yes, I answered plainly. Because of the constant monitoring, the remarks, the meddling in our lives. I feel like a stranger in my own house.
This is my house now as well, Margaret replied stubbornly.
Thats exactly what I want to discuss, I continued, keeping my tone even. I think it would be better for you to live separately.
Youre evicting my daughters mother onto the street? Margaret exclaimed, waving her hands. Youve gone too far!
No one is being thrown out, I replied patiently. We can help you find a nearby flat, visit, and support you financially.
And if I refuse? she crossed her arms.
Then, Im afraid Eleanor and I wont be able to live together, I said, looking at my wife. Ive already told her.
You blackmailer! Margaret shouted. Eleanor, youre letting this happen?
Eleanors face, wet with tears, quivered.
I dont know what to do, Mum. I love you both, but Andrew is rightthese months have been hard for everyone.
So you want me to leave? Margaret asked, hurt obvious in her voice.
I want us all to be happy, Eleanor whispered. Right now, none of us are.
Silence settled. Margaret stared between daughter and soninlaw, as if seeing them for the first time.
I never thought it would get this bad, she finally admitted. I thought I was helping.
We appreciate your care, I said gently. But sometimes care can become overbearing.
Margaret lowered her head.
After my husband died, I was terrified of being alone, of the silence. I entered every corner of your life to feel needed.
Eleanor embraced her mother.
We love you, Mum. Youll always be part of us. But perhaps Andrew is right. Maybe it would be better if you lived nearby but not under the same roof?
Margaret stayed quiet for a long moment, then sighed.
You may be right. I didnt want to admit it, but Ive been overstepping. Its hard to accept that Im no longer the centre of my daughters world.
Youll always be important to us, Andrew said. We just need to respect each others boundaries.
We talked for hours about plans, the future, how to rebuild our relationships. For the first time in three months, Andrew felt truly heard. He saw his motherinlaw not as an enemy but as a lonely woman fearing irrelevance.
The next day Eleanor found an advert for a onebedroom flat in the adjoining street. Andrew and she inspected it, paid the deposit, and arranged for Margaret to move in a week.
Are you angry with me? Eleanor asked when they returned to their flat after the move.
At what? I replied, surprised.
For the ultimatum. It was harsh.
Sometimes you have to be firm to protect what truly matters, I said, pulling her into a hug. I didnt want to lose you, but I couldnt go on as we were.
You know, Eleanor mused, maybe its for the best. Mum sounds almost happy now. She said shed joined a seniors club.
See? She needed her own life, not just looking after us.
We sat on our sofa in the quiet of our home, savoring the peace. Eleanors phone buzzed with a message from her mothera photo of her new sitting room, bright with flowers and framed pictures.
It looks like weve succeeded, she smiled.
I nodded, feeling the tension of the past months melt away. Sometimes you have to reach the edge to find a new path. Sometimes risk is necessary to keep what you love. And even the toughest ultimatums can lead to a happy ending for everyone.
