Eleanor sat at the kitchen table, eyes fixed on Mrs. Winifred Hargreaves as she sliced apples for a Victoria sponge, her voice rising with the enthusiasm of a story halftold. The daughterinlaw didnt hear a word. It had been a month since Winifred moved in, and Eleanors patience was wearing thin. Though her marriage to James had been happy for five years, the last few weeks made her wonder whether shed erred in marrying the son of a mother so keen to manage everything.
Eleanor, youre not listening to me! Winifred snapped, pausing her tale and pursing her lips. Im saying James needs a new job. That firm he works for is a joke! I spoke to a friend wholl take him into her construction companybetter pay, better prospects. He could be promoted within a year, and you could stay home.
Mrs. Hargreaves, Eleanor inhaled deeply, fighting irritation, James chooses his own work. Hes an adult.
Of course hes an adult, but youre his wife! You must steer him, advise him! This design stuff, those sketchesthis isnt a mans work! the motherinlaw fumed.
Hes a talented architectural designer, Eleanor was on the brink of collapse. His firm is excellent and he loves what he does.
Loves it? Winifred flailed her hands. And the money? They pay peanuts! And children? Youll have to raise them. What will you teach them?
Were not planning kids yet, Eleanor whispered, though the topic had been discussed many times. We have enough money.
Not planning? Winifred set the knife down, turning to her daughterinlaw. I knew it! Five years of marriage and no children! At your age I was already raising James!
Eleanor stayed silent. She wanted childrenvery muchbut not now. She had just defended her PhD and landed a senior lecturer post. James supported her completely. She only needed three more years to cement her academic career before thinking about a family.
Winifred, taking the hush as consent, continued, Lucy, my friends daughter, already has three babies, and her husbanda builderhas put a solid roof over their heads.
Mrs. Hargreaves, Eleanor tried again, James and I will decide our own lives. I respect you, but
What do you mean decide ourselves? the motherinlaw snapped. Im his mother! I know whats best for himand for you! Youre still young and green. A mother never gives bad advice.
Eleanor shook her head and left the kitchen. Arguing was futile. She climbed the stairs of the modest yet cosy house theyd bought two years earlier with a mortgage, collapsed onto the bed, and closed her eyes. How tired she felt! Lecturing, grading, and Winifreds constant meddling drained her.
That evening James came back, looking weary but pleased. Guess what? Ive been appointed lead designer on a new project! he announced, kissing Eleanor.
Congratulations, love! she beamed.
James, what project? How much will they pay? Winifred interjected.
Its an elite residential development, James said, buoyant. The salary will rise, of course.
What amount? the mother pressed.
Mother, does it matter? Weve got enough, James muttered, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
What about the mortgage? The car? Your old clunker is about to fall apart! Winifred declared, eyes flicking to a photograph of a battered hatchback. Sophies son
Im not Sophies son, James cut her off. And lets not go there now. Im hungry.
During dinner Winifred kept delivering moral lessons. James mostly fell silent, while Eleanor felt a growing knot of irritation. After the meal, alone in the bedroom, she could no longer hold back.
James, I cant take it any longer! Your mother interferes in everythingyour work, our plans, our life! When is she leaving?
Eleanor, she just wants the best for us. You know how she is, James sighed.
I know, but theres a difference between weekend visits and living here permanently!
Its temporary, he tried to soothe her. Shes renovating her flat.
How many renovations can onebedroom flat need? Its been a month already!
You know how Mum iseverything must be perfect. Bear with it a little longer, okay?
Eleanor nodded. There was no way to evict Winifred without causing a scandal. Patience, she thought, was all she had left.
The next morning, as Eleanor prepared for work, Winifred appeared at the bedroom door.
Eleanor, we need to talk, she said, perching on the edge of the bed.
Im in a rush. Maybe this evening? Eleanor tried to dodge.
No, its urgent. I think you should quit your job.
What? Why?
Because you need to have children! You cant postpone forever. I spoke to James yesterdayhe wants a child too.
James? Eleanors heart thudded. Did he actually say that?
Not directly, Winifred stammered, but I can see it in his eyes. He dreams of a son!
Eleanor set her hairbrush down and faced her motherinlaw.
I appreciate your concern, truly. But James and I have already discussed this. We plan to have children in three years. Right now isnt the right time.
Three years? When will you be forty? At my age
I know, Eleanor interrupted. You raised James at my age, but the world has changed.
Exactly! Once, family came first; now everyone chases a career! Where is the family? Where are the children? Ah, the youth today! Winifred gestured wildly.
Eleanor glanced at the clock.
I must go, she said firmly. Well finish this conversation tonight, with James.
The day slipped by in lectures, tutorials, and a departmental meeting. Eleanor barely thought of the mornings clash, but anxiety crept back as she walked home. What if Winifred was right? What if James secretly wanted a baby now, but feared upsetting her?
At home, Winifred had set a festive dinner table.
Whats the occasion? James asked, removing his shoes.
Of course there is! Winifred beamed. Were having an important family council!
Eleanor tensed, already knowing what would be discussed.
Winifred poured wine, lifted her glass, and announced, I have news! Ive spoken to Mrs. Georgina Clarke, and she wants to hire you, James, as head of the design department in her construction firm!
James choked on his wine.
What? Mum, what are you on about?
Your new job! Winifred continued, delighted. Georgina runs a major building company. Shes offering you double the salary! Imagine that!
James, Im not looking for a new job, he said firmly. Im happy where I am.
But its a chance you cant miss! Winifred persisted, thrusting a sheet of paper toward him.
James pushed the papers aside. Im content.
What about the future? How will you raise children on this salary? Winifred shouted, the volume rising.
We have no children yet, James reminded her.
Exactly, none yet! Winifred glanced at Eleanor. But Im sure theyll come soon, and you
What? Im not quitting my job! Eleanor blurted, standing up. I never said I would!
You said youd think about my offer this morning! Winifred exclaimed, genuinely surprised. You promised to consider it!
I said wed talk about it tonight, Eleanor corrected. And Im not quitting. Weve agreed on three years before trying for a baby.
James nodded silently, though his eyes betrayed disappointment. Was Winifred right? Did he truly want a child now?
Three years? Youre already thirty! In three more youll be thirtythreedangerous! Winifred wailed.
Many people have children after thirty now, James tried to calm her. I just want to finish this project first.
Its wrong! she insisted. I gave birth at twentytwo; that was perfect! I only want the best for you both!
James spoke gently but firmly. We understand, Mum, but this is our life and our decision.
And thats exactly why I must guide you! Winifred shouted, turning to Eleanor. A career isnt everything; family is.
Eleanor took a deep breath. Mrs. Hargreaves, I want both a good academic career and, someday, a good mother. Just not now.
Dinner ended in a sour note. Winifred retired to her room, James sat staring at his plate, and Eleanor whispered, James, do you really want a child now?
He looked up. No, love. We agreed on three years. Ill finish the project, then well think about it.
But you look upset.
Its this mother, he admitted. Shes relentless. Its becoming unbearable.
Maybe we should talk to her? Eleanor suggested.
Ill try tomorrow. Tonight she wont listen.
The following day Winifred acted as if nothing had happened. She made breakfast, asked about plans, never mentioning yesterdays debate. Eleanor wasnt sure whether to be relieved or uneasy.
That evening, returning from work, Eleanor found Winifred hunched over a laptop, typing furiously.
Good evening, Eleanor said. What are you doing?
Oh, Eleanor! Winifred jumped, closing the browser. Just writing to a friend.
Eleanor caught the page title: How to convince children to have a baby.
Mrs. Hargreaves, lets talk, she said.
About what, dear? Winifred feigned surprise.
About your need to control our lives, Eleanor replied, steady.
Control? Winifred objected. Im helping! Advising! Im a mother!
Yes, youre Jamess mother, not mine, Eleanor countered. Were both adults and make our own choices.
Ah, dear, a mother always knows best, Winifred sighed.
Perhaps, Eleanor conceded. But the decisions must be ours.
James entered, looking troubled.
Whats happened? Eleanor asked, forgetting the earlier conversation.
My director called. Someone inquired about my salary and prospects, James said, sitting heavily. It was a strange woman asking questions.
What? Who? Eleanor asked, bewildered.
All eyes turned to Winifred, who was now examining the tablecloth pattern.
Mum? James asked, distrustful.
I had to check that youre doing well! Winifred protested, arms waving. I called your director to make sure everythings fine.
You called my director? James was shocked. Why?
I was worried about you! she repeated. And what did he say?
He said a peculiar woman had been asking about me. That crosses a line, Mum.
What line? Winifred asked, genuinely puzzled. Im your mother! There cant be any line!
There must be, James said calmly, fists clenched. We have a right to a private life.
A private life from your mother? Winifred looked offended. Ive raised you my whole life! Now you speak of boundaries?
Yes, of boundaries, James affirmed. Weve decided to have children in three years, and thats final. Im not leaving my job because you think I could earn more. I love what I do.
But James, I only want whats best! Winifred cried.
I know, Mum, but best is what we decide ourselves, not what you assume, James said, embracing her shoulder. I love you, but you must let us live our own lives.
Winifreds eyes welled. I just dont want you to make mistakes!
Even if theyre mistakes, theyre ours, James replied gently. And we have the right to make them.
Silence settled over the room. Eleanor looked at James with gratitude; finally he had said what hed been holding inside.
How about a cup of tea? she suggested, trying to ease the tension.
Tea sounds perfect, James agreed.
Winifred nodded slowly. She was still upset, but seemed to be understanding at last.
The next morning Winifred announced that her flat was ready and she was returning home. Eleanor wasnt sure whether to feel relief or sorrow. Part of her missed the quiet of a house without constant interference; another part felt compassion for a woman who truly believed she was doing the right thing.
Mrs. Hargreaves, Eleanor said as they saw her off, youre always welcome to visit. Just dont meddle in our decisions.
Just dont interfere, Winifred finished, a small smile forming. I understand now, Eleanor. Ive always wanted the best.
I know, Eleanor answered, softly. We value your care, but sometimes we need to choose for ourselves.
Winifred hugged her, and for the first time in ages Eleanor felt a genuine connection between them.
When Winifred left, the house fell quiet. Eleanor and James cherished the peace, planning their future without fear of intrusion. Three years later, as they had planned, a baby arrived. Winifred had to wait a little longer, but when she first cradled her granddaughter, her eyes sparkled.
Shes beautiful, Winifred whispered, gazing at the newborn. You made the right choice.
Eleanor and James exchanged a glance, realizing Winifred finally grasped the meaning of respecting anothers choice. Their family grew closer, gathering together, with Winifred now playing with the child rather than steering their lives.
One afternoon, over tea, Winifred said, Ive learned a lot from you both. I used to think a mother always knows whats best. Now I see that best is when each person decides for themselves.
You always wanted what was best, Mum, James smiled. We appreciate that.
Yes, Eleanor added. Its not about what we wanted, but what turned out. And it turned out wonderful.
Winifred looked around the roomher son, her daughterinlaw, her granddaughterand understood that this was the dream she had chased all her life, only it had taken a different path than she imagined.
