Gwen, have you lost your mind? Its your only sons wedding and youre just sitting here, sipping tea!
Lucy Vaughan stands in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded, her eyes flashing with righteous anger. Gwen doesnt even look up from her mug.
Sit down, youre already here. The kettles still hot.
What tea? Lucy says, dropping onto the chair opposite. Its half past one now. In an hour James will walk down the aisle, and youre still?
Im not going anywhere, Gwen replies, taking a sip and glancing out the window. Dont try to convince me.
Lucy watches her friends face. Theyve been friends for forty years, since school, and Lucy knows Gwen like the back of her hand. She never expected this.
What happened? she asks softly. You two seemed to have patched things up after that argument.
Gwen smirks. We patched up. He called two days ago and said, Come, Mum, if you want. As if Im off to a market, not my own childs wedding.
Maybe he just meant it loosely? Lucy suggests.
Gwen turns to her, tears glistening. Im fortynine. I raised him alone, worked two jobs, kept the house clean, nursed him when he was sick. And now Im a burden to him, an extra weight.
Lucy reaches out, covering Gwens hand. Tell me everything, from the start.
Gwen pours Lucy a cup of tea, pulls a tin of biscuits from the pantry, and sighs heavily.
It all began six months ago. James introduced me to Emily. Tall, slim, striking. I was thrilled at firstfinally my son is in a serious relationship; hes twentyseven now. I said, Come in, lets get to know each other, Ill cook dinner.
Whats she like? Lucy asks.
She walked in, looked around, and you could tell she wasnt thrilled. Our flat is a modest twobedroom council house, old furniture, faded wallpaper, but its tidy. I spent the whole day cleaning, baked some scones.
Gwen remembers that evening: the best blouse, her hair done, the polished grandmothers tea set she set out.
Emily perched on the edge of a chair as if she might get dirty. She smiled, but her eyes were cold. What do you do, Emily? Gwen asked. I work in marketing, managing projects, she replied, adding, James is very talented, a shame hes still in a regular job.
Lucy huffs. Bold, she mutters.
At first Gwen didnt get it. Then she realized Emily was implying that Gwen hadnt helped James reach his potential. What could I have done? Gwen thought. Shes a nurse earning a pittance, while James has a degree in computer science, a good salary, and a flat in a new development. Im proud of him, she says.
Of course you are, Lucy nods. What happened next?
They ate, chatted, and Emily kept bragging about her own successes, her projects, her earnings. Then she asked, Mrs. Paterson, have you ever thought of moving into a care home? They have good facilities and people your age.
Lucy gasps. Are you serious?
Emily says its just a suggestion for the future, so James doesnt have to look after you. Gwen, now fortyeight, says, Im not moving into a care home. Im healthy, I work. Emily smiles, Just thinking ahead.
James watches silently, his fork untouched. Gwen declares, Im too young for a care home. Emilys tone is flat, Just saying.
After dinner they leave. James hugs Gwen, says, Dont worry, Mum, Emily is just practical. Practical, as if she were a piece of furniture to be discarded.
Gwen later calls James, tells him exactly what she thinks. He snaps, accusing her of being jealous and telling her to learn to let go because hes an adult who decides who he lives with.
Lucy shakes her head. Kids can be cruel. They dont understand.
They argue. James doesnt call for a month. Gwen thinks shes lost him forever. Then he returns, apologises, says he loves her and that shell always be the most important person in his life. She believes him.
A month later James announces the engagement. He calls, Mum, were getting married! Gwen asks when. He says, Soon, we already booked a restaurant. Come Saturday and well go over the details.
She goes. Their flat is large and bright, freshly renovated, brandnew furniture. Emily greets her coldly, like an inspector. She shows her to the sitting room and doesnt even offer tea.
Lucy clicks her tongue. Rude.
Emily hands over a guest listseventy people. None of Gwens friends are on it. Can my friend Lucy be invited? James asks. Emily and James exchange a look. Mum, we have limited seats; only close friends and colleagues. Gwen stays silent as they parade pictures of the banquet hall, the expensive menu. She wonders where she fits in all this.
Outside a flock of sparrows lands on a mature oak. James used to feed them breadcrumbs when he was a child, laughing as they flocked around the kitchen window.
Emily then says, Mrs. Paterson, we were thinkingmaybe you could take out a loan for the wedding? Well contribute, but extra cash would help.
What? Lucy jumps up. Shes asking you to borrow money for their wedding?
Yes, Emily replies. Were saving for a larger flat in the centre, and traditionally the parents cover the wedding.
Lucys face turns red with outrage. James looks away, and Gwen realises hes backing Emilys demandexpecting her to pay for a ceremony she isnt even properly invited to.
Gwen refuses. Youre both adults, you earn your own money. I can help where I can, but I wont take out a loan. Emily pursues, Its selfish of you to deny us happiness. Gwen feels the sting of thirty years of sacrifice being called selfish.
James stands, walks her to the door, says, Mum, dont be angry. Emily is used to her parents paying for everything. Gwen asks, And you? What do you think? He hesitates, then says theyd love a lavish wedding but lack funds, and she could help.
Lucy pours both of them another cup of tea. Silence hangs. Such stories happen often when children marry, but when its yours, keeping quiet is hard.
Gwen leaves the house, walks the street, and cries. Her neighbour, Aunt Valerie from the flat above, calls, Gwen, why are you so upset? Gwen tells her the whole thing. Valerie says, Emily has been telling the building that youre a deadbeat mother, that youre holding James back.
What? Gwen exclaims.
Aunt Valerie heard Emily on the lift, complaining to a friend that her mother-inlaw is poor and outdated, that shes embarrassed to bring her to the wedding, and that shell ask James to see her less after the ceremony.
Gwen sits back down, covers her face with her hands. The pain of hearing that the son she raised now lets someone else speak ill of her is raw.
She waits weeks for James to call, hoping hell explain. After a silent fortnight, a message arrives: Mum, the weddings set for Saturday. Invitation coming soon. The invitation is an email with a link and the venue address, no warm words, no phone calljust a calendar entry. Gwen realises James now sees Emily as his partner, and she feels like a duty to be eliminated.
Lucy sighs. Maybe Emily is the influence? Maybe James isnt that bad?
James is twentyseven, an adult. If he wanted to protect you, he would. But he stays silent, agreeing with Emily because its easier.
Music plays from the neighbours TV. The clock reads twothirty. Guests must be gathering now. Emily, in a white dress, looks radiant, James is nervous. Gwen is nowhere.
Did you call him? Tell him you wont go? Lucy asks.
Yesterday I did. I said I wont attend. James first stays quiet, then asks why. Because Im not welcome, she tells him. Because Im a burden. He tries to reassure her, We do want you there, Mum. She asks, Is that what Emily wants? He pauses, then says, Come if you want.
Lucy repeats, If you want. The words sting.
Gwen stands, walks to the fridge, pulls out the pastries she baked yesterdaycabbage pies, her favourite. She offers one to Lucy. Lucy declines, setting it on the plate.
Dont you regret not going? Its a onceinalifetime wedding, Lucy asks.
What? Gwen asks.
Not going?
Gwen thinks. She does regret it, she wants to see her boy walk down the aisle, to hug him, to wish the couple a long life. But the thought of being a tolerated guest would hurt more.
Ive spent thirty years of my life on himskipping meals, losing sleep, never leaving home so he could have everything. I hoped hed be grateful, love me, care for me. Instead he sees me as a load, as someone who belongs in a care home. If thats how he feels, fine, let him live without me.
Are you angry at him? Lucy asks.
No, Gwen shakes her head. It just hurts. I feel like Ive lost my son. Hes alive, healthy, but to me hes lost. The boy I raised has vanished, replaced by a stranger.
Lucy stands, embraces Gwen. Tears finally spill, quiet sobs that speak of broken hopes, of dreams that never got a thankyou.
Maybe things will improve, Lucy whispers, rubbing her back. Maybe hell see.
Probably not, Gwen replies, wiping her eyes. Emily wont change. Shell keep pushing him away. Ive seen it. Im not blind.
They sit in the kitchen, sipping the nowcold tea in silence. Lucy promises to check in later. Gwen remains alone in the empty flat, turns on the TV but cant watch. Memories of James as a child flood backbringing dandelions, drawing cards for Mothers Day, whispering, Mum, I love you more than anything.
Where is that boy now? Where did he go?
The phone rings sharply. Its James. Gwen lets it ring, then hangs up. A text flashes: Mum, why arent you answering? The weddings already started, everyones asking where you are.
She reads it, puts the phone down, types a brief reply: Wishing you happiness. Take care of yourself.
James calls again. She doesnt pick up. New messages buzz, but she ignores them. She walks to the bedroom, lies on the bed. The silence presses on her ears, thoughts whirling. Did she do the right thing? Should she have gonefor the sake of propriety, for James?
No. Shes spent her whole life living for othersJames, work, anyones expectations. Its time to live for herself.
That evening Lucy calls, asks how shes faring. Gwen says shes fine, asks Lucy not to come over, wants some alone time. She goes to bed early, but sleep wont come. She lies in the dark, listening to traffic outside, a distant dog barking, wondering what lies ahead. Will she and James ever talk again?
At dawn, the doorbell rings. James stands there, suit rumpled, eyes red from a sleepless night.
May I come in? he asks softly.
Gwen steps aside, lets him in. He sits on the same chair Lucy occupied yesterday. Gwen puts the kettle on, fetches cups. They sit in silence.
You didnt come, James finally says.
I didnt.
Why?
Gwen looks at himher son, grown yet stranger.
Because I wasnt welcome, she answers simply. Because I realised Im no longer needed.
Mum, thats not true he begins.
Dont. You know its true. You chose Emily, thats your right. But dont pretend I matter if you dont feel it.
James covers his face with his hands. Im ashamed, Mum. Im so ashamed.
Gwen pours him tea, places the cup before him, and sits opposite him.
Yesterday I stood at the altar and thought, Wheres my mother? The guests were all there, but you werent. I realised it was my faultI let Emilys wishes drown yours. I stayed silent while she insulted you.
Yes, Gwen says. I let it happen.
Forgive me, James says, tears streaming down his cheeks. I was a fool, chasing a picture, status, all that nonsense. I hurt the most important person in my life.
Gwen stays quiet, weighing his words. What did you say to Emily? she asks.
I told her if she doesnt start respecting you, Ill leave herright there at the ceremony. He winces. We argued. She asked where you were. I said you didnt come because she was being awful. She exploded, called me a terrible son, and ran to the bathroom. She came back, apologized, said shed try to change. I dont know how sincere she is, but I made it clear that a mother is sacred and no one can disrespect her.
Gwen feels a warmth spread through her chest. Her boy has returned, if only for a moment. She squeezes his hand.
I want to make things right, James says, gripping her palm. I want you to be part of my life, part of our family. I love you, always have, always will.
Gwens grip tightens. I love you too. Its just been painful.
I know. Ill work so you never feel that hurt again. I promise.
They sit, hands linked, the old wounds slowly easing. The scars will remain, trust will need rebuilding, but the fact that James finally sees her matters.
Emily wants to talk to you, James adds. She wants to apologise. Should she come?
Gwen hesitates. She doesnt particularly want to see Emily, but if it helps restore peace, shell try.
Let her in, she says. Well see.
James smiles, the first genuine smile in weeks, stands, embraces his mother tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. Gwen returns the hug, her heart lighter. Her boy may have erred, but hes found the courage to own it, and thats priceless.
She watches him leave, then returns to the kitchen, pulls out flour, eggs, sugar, and decides to bake a cake. Tonight James and Emily will likely drop by, and shell have something sweet for them. The wounds arent fully healed, but the first step toward reconciliation is taken. She knows she didnt betray herself by attending a wedding she didnt want to be part of. She stood her ground, and thats a truth she can live with.
Later the phone buzzes. A message from Lucy: Hows it going?
Gwen types back, James stopped by. I think things will be okay.
Life is unpredictable. One day it hurts, the next it cheers. The key is never losing hope and remembering that even in the darkest moments theres a way outsometimes you just have to look for it in a different place.
Gwen gets up, heads to the pantry, grabs the ingredients, and begins to bake. If James and Emily return later, at least therell be cake on the table, a small peace offering, and a promise that she will keep caring for herself as much as she has always cared for others.
