Mother loves everyone.
Maggie never cared for her boys. She thought them dim, narrowminded, crude and uncouth, just like their father.
Ma, whats for dinner? shouted George, the eldest, his voice already low, a patch of babyhair on his chin, lanky wrists and thick, calloused fingers that curled into a solid fist just like his dads.
Maggie knew all too well that George was roaming the village, flirting with the older widows who had been left without a husbands touch. They stared shamelessly at young lads and even at teenagers, brazen as could be.
She told one of them, Daisy, Youre being foolish, you know. George is barely a boy, not even fifteen yet. Daisy laughed wildly, her answer making Maggies stomach turn with rage.
From that moment Maggie stopped loving George. He reminded her of his father rough, always drunk, reeking of bacon, garlic and cheap homebrew, his grubby hands in every place they could get.
He tried every woman in the hamlet. When Maggie tried to marry him off, she was forced. She wept, but no one would stand up for her; the old woman in the cottage was the only one willing to find her a match.
What are you doing, girl, tying yourself to that scoundrel? the old crone croaked. Look at Peter, how fine he is. All the girls swoon over him, just because he looks his way. And you go on, then.
I wont, sobbed Tess, Im going to the city, get a job in the mill, learn something, make a life for myself.
City, you say? the old woman shrieked, you should have thought of this before you fell into his trap.
The crone struck her hard, her words cutting like a whip. Did she really think Tess had agreed to Peter? No, shed never known anything of the sort; hed taken her by force.
The old woman kept pounding, pointing out Tesss sins, shouting that soon her belly would be higher than her nose a cruel truth. Tess finally understood something was terribly wrong.
She had to leave Peter. He was older, took her into his house, his mother first protested He chose the wrong bride! but later settled, even feeling sorry for Tess, especially when he tormented her at night.
He blamed her for being weak, for being a poor little thing. One by one the children came, all boys, each as cheeky as the last.
Tess loved them fiercely, until they grew up and turned into men like Peter. Then she became a harsh mother.
The war broke Peters spirit, tore him apart, and left him a shell. Many lads never returned from the front.
Peter, though, survived. Three of his brothers went off to fight; only five lads came back, darkeyed and gaunt.
Maggie bore three more sons all boys. No daughter ever came. There was no escape from him; as soon as night fell, hed be at her door, pinching, grabbing her side, pressing his weight against her.
Tess kept delaying his advances, inventing errands, anything to keep him out of the bedroom. When Peter announced he was leaving for widowed soldier Lucy Barlow, Tess exhaled a sigh of relief.
George fought with his father then, and she didnt stop him. She bandaged his arm later, stroked his head as she once did when he was a babe.
Let the lad go, she whispered. Its not worth it.
Ma, dont worry, well manage, George murmured, his words stumbling. He was about to marry, and Tess tried not to think of what he would do with that frail, bigeyed girl, just like Peter had.
All her sons turned out the same, one after another. Theyre all copies, Maggie would shake her head, remembering how each little one seemed perfect at first, as if nature might surprise her. But no, they all grew into Peters likeness.
She never let her hair grow, never let a whisker appear on her chin, afraid the same glint would flash in her eyes.
Thats why she never loved her boys when they grew up; she thought herself a bad mother. And the wives of those boys, she thought, should at least have given her a daughter.
She finally got a granddaughter. The youngest son, Sam, had been courting for ages, hoping for a girl. At last, a sweet child named Lily appeared, darting about the kitchen, thin and flexible like a willow.
Whats this? Tess asked, watching Lily climb onto Sams chest and curl up. She didnt shrink or hide; she leaned forward as a calf does to its mother, snuggling against him. Sam brushed her hair, kissed her forehead gently, as a father would his child.
From then on Maggie kept an eye on all her sons, watching if any behaved like Petergrabbing their wives, pulling them to bed at the first chance.
No! she cried. God, no!
Had she been blind? Had she never seen it before? All her other boys turned out the same.
It took her many years to realise this.
One day she went to George, the eldest.
George, lad, is everything alright? she asked.
Alls well, Mother, come in. Anything wrong? Is the new daughterinlaw causing trouble? Theres room for her, he replied, his words thick from years of holding back.
George was always careful with his speech, slow to speak since childhood.
Mother, dont be shy, if you need anything, said Katie, Georges wife.
No, my dears, everythings fine. I just came to see how youre all doing. You, George, forgive your mother if she oversteps
Mother what is this?
Its not easy being a good mother
Me? Not a good mother? Katie tell her
Ah, you think we need such mothers and mothersinlaw, youve raised us boys Dont make up stories, were all just trying to be decent, she replied, offering tea and a scone.
Having visited each son, Tess dragged herself home, exhausted.
She wondered how to treat each daughterinlaw, not to offend any of them. No daughter yet? she muttered to herself, Six children already, why not a girl?
Maybe she wasnt such a terrible mother after all.
At home Lily was already making pancakes.
Tesss eyes were wide open, unwilling to turn anyone away. The pancakes were truly delicious.
Lily, could you maybe give me a grandchild? she asked hopeful of the youngest daughterinlaw.
Ill try, Mother, Lily giggled, and soon she gave birth to two little girls, Olivia and Yvonne, the granddaughters Maggie adored, bright and loving, the very things a grandmothers heart craves.
Even though the grandsons resembled Peters boys, the granddaughters were like little princesses, queens of the old womans heart.
Ill raise these girls and set them straight, wont let them waste their lives, Maggie vowed, and she kept it. The grandchildren grew up, succeeded in their careers, always remembered their granny with kind words, and loved Maggie dearly.
And she loved them all.
Did you not love your sons? people asked.
How could I not? If I hadnt, they wouldnt have become who they are.
Can a mother not love the child she bore beneath her heart?
And Peter well, God forgive him, Maggie had long since forgiven him too, and even loved him a little.
