Tom introduced me to his mum, and she handed me a stack of thirtyone things I was supposed to do.
Maggie, have you lost your mind? I shouted. Thats absurd!
Not at all, Lucy. Im just saying what I think, she replied.
But you cant tell the boss straight up that their ideas are rubbish!
Maggie slumped back in her swivel chair, a halfsmile on her lips. At thirtyfive shed learned it wasnt worth staying quiet when something was off. Lucy, her colleague and mate, twisted a pen and kept glancing at the office door.
Lucy, if we keep our heads down nobody will ever see us as people. This new project is a disaster and Ive said so.
And now?
Now Ill let them think what they like. Ive spoken my mind, my conscience is clear.
Lucy shook her head and went back to her screen. Maggie checked her phone three missed calls from Tom. She grinned. Tom had turned up in her life six months ago and everything had shifted. After a failed marriage that ended five years back, she never imagined falling in love again. But Tom was different kind, attentive, reliable.
She dialled back.
Hey, sunshine, hows it going?
All right. Had another row with the boss.
Youre impossible, Tom laughed. Listen, I need to have a serious chat.
Whats up?
Nothing bad, just mum wants to meet you. Were heading over to her this weekend.
Maggie froze. Meeting the mother was a big step. Tom had spoken a lot about her Margaret Eileen Hawthorne, sixtyeight, a widow living alone in a cottage out in the countryside. By his account she was strict but fair.
Are you sure? Isnt it a bit early?
Maggie, weve been together half a year. Its time. She keeps asking when Ill finally bring her the woman I keep talking about.
Alright then, Maggie sighed. Saturday?
Perfect. Ill pick you up at ten. Dont worry, itll be fine.
The rest of the week was a flurry of preparation. Maggie bought a modest navy dress that fell just above the knee, picked out a box of quality chocolates and a bunch of chrysanthemums Tom said his mum adored those blooms.
On Friday evening she called Lucy.
Can you believe it? Tomorrow Im meeting his mum.
Oh wow, thats serious! Nervous?
Terrified. What if she doesnt like me?
Dont be daft, youre brilliant. What could she not like?
He says shes strict. What if she thinks Im not good enough for her son?
Maggie, stop overthinking. Itll be fine.
Still, she lay awake, drinking water at odd hours, wrestling with whether to wear her hair down or up. In the end she settled on a tidy bun.
Tom arrived right on the dot, looking sharp in dark trousers, a white shirt and a blazer a look Maggie rarely saw him in.
You look lovely, he said, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.
Thanks, you look handsome too.
He smiled oddly, saying nothing more.
The drive took about an hour. Tom chattered about work and holiday plans, but Maggie only halflistened. The closer they got to the cottage, the tighter her chest felt.
The house was a neat twostorey with a welltended garden. At the gate stood Eileen, tall and poised in a crisp suit, her silver hair neatly styled, her face unreadable.
Hello, mum, Tom kissed her cheek. This is Maggie.
Hello, Mrs Hawthorne, Maggie offered the flowers and chocolates. Nice to finally meet you.
Eileen gave her a onceover from head to toe, accepted the gifts and nodded.
Come in, she said.
Inside, everything sparkled not a speck of dust, everything in its place. The living room featured solid furniture and family photos in matching frames.
Have a seat, Eileen gestured to the sofa. Would you like some tea?
Yes, thank you.
While Eileen disappeared to the kitchen, Maggie studied the pictures: Tom as a child, in school uniform, in his army shirt, at his graduation. In every shot his mother stood beside him; his father appeared only in old, faded photos.
Dad died when I was fifteen, Tom murmured, noticing her stare.
Eileen returned with a tray, all matching porcelain. She poured tea, sat opposite Maggie.
So, Maggie. Tom has told me a lot about you.
I hope only good things.
A bit of everything, she said, sipping. You work as an accountant?
Yes, for a construction firm.
Were you married before?
Maggie tensed. The question was expected, but still uncomfortable.
I was. Divorced five years ago.
Any children?
No.
Why did it end?
Tom shifted in his seat, looking uneasy.
Mum, maybe I shouldnt say
Eileens eyes flashed.
Tom, I have a right to know who my son is involved with, she said, then turned back to Maggie. So why?
We just didnt click, Maggie answered calmly.
Thats a vague excuse. Whats the real reason?
Maggie took a deep breath.
My ex cheated. I found out and we split.
I see, Eileen noted. And no children because?
It just never happened.
Health issues?
Mum! Tom raised his voice.
What? If she has fertility problems I need to know. I want grandchildren.
Maggie felt her cheeks flush. The conversation had gone far beyond what shed imagined.
Im perfectly healthy. It was just the marriage that fell apart.
Eileen set her cup down.
Now, onto business. You may not know this, but our family has certain traditions. If youre going to become part of it, you need to understand them.
She rose, fetched a folder from a side table, and handed Maggie a stack of papers.
Whats this? Maggie asked, bewildered.
A list of requirements for a future daughterinlaw. Thirty points. Read them carefully.
Maggie glanced at Tom, who stared at the floor. She unfolded the sheet.
1. The daughterinlaw must visit her motherinlaw at least twice a week.
2. She must be able to cook every recipe in the family cookbook.
3. She must have at least two children within the first three years of marriage.
4. She may not work after the first child is born.
5. She must get approval for any major purchase from her motherinlaw
Each point made her eyes widen. The list went on about dress codes, household chores, childrearing methods, even how she should style her hair.
Youre joking? she asked.
Im not, Eileen said coldly. My late daughterinlaw followed these to the letter.
You had a soninlaw before?
Yes. He died in a car crash with his wife three years ago. Tom is my only child now, and I wont let him marry anyone unsuitable.
Maggie looked at Tom.
Did you know about this?
He nodded, eyes still on the floor.
And you said nothing?
I hoped mum would change her mind, or that youd agree.
Agree to this? Maggie stood, throwing the papers onto the table. Tom, this is medieval!
Dont dramatise, Eileen snapped. These are reasonable expectations for a respectable woman.
Reasonable? Point fifteen says I have to give you my salary!
For the family budget. Ill allocate the money properly.
Point twentytwo says I cant meet friends without your permission!
A married woman doesnt need a night out with her mates.
And point twentyeight? I have to live with you for a year after the wedding?
So I can teach you how to run a proper household.
Maggie shook her head.
This is madness. How could you bring me here knowing all this?
Maggie, lets talk calmly
Talk about what? About you trying to turn me into a servant?
Eileen rose, her face flushing.
Im offering fair terms. In return youll have a good husband, a secure life, a family.
Im not a commodity you can buy!
All women are for sale, just at different prices, Eileen said icily.
Maggie grabbed her bag.
Tom, drive me home. Now.
Maggie, wait
If she leaves now without accepting, its over for you, Eileen cut in.
Tom stood, looked at his mother, then at Maggie. His eyes pleaded.
Maggie, maybe youll reconsider? Not all points are set in stone, we can discuss.
All of them are compulsory, Eileen interjected. No exceptions.
Maggie stared at Tom, caught between the man she loved and his overbearing mother.
Take me home, she whispered.
The drive back was silent. Tom tried to speak, but Maggie stared out the window. He stopped outside her flat, turned to her.
Maggie, lets talk.
About what? About you lying to me for six months?
I didnt lie! I just didnt know how to say it.
You took me to restaurants, bought flowers, talked about love, yet you knew your mum had this list.
I hoped shed change her mind once she got to know you better.
She doesnt even want to know me. She wants a robot to do her bidding.
Mum is just lonely. After her husband and brother died shes all I have.
What do you have besides mum, Tom?
He fell silent.
Youre thirtyseven, a grown man, yet you cant decide without your mum.
Its not like that
Exactly like that. Im not angry, Im sorry for you.
Maggie got out of the car, Tom followed.
Maggie, wait! I love you!
She stopped at the landing, turned.
If you loved me, you wouldnt have put me through this humiliation. Goodbye, Tom.
She slammed the door, kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the sofa. Tears welled up, but she held them back. Enough crying over men who arent worth it.
Her phone buzzed. Lucy.
Howd it go? Did his mum like you?
Lucy, it was a nightmare.
What happened?
Maggie recounted everything, Lucy gasping at each turn.
Shes insane! And Tom brought you here like a sacrificial lamb.
He says he loves me.
He loves his mum, not you. To him you were just a pastime.
Dont say that.
Honestly, a decent bloke would never let that happen.
Maggie knew Lucy was right, but her heart still ached for Tom.
That evening Tom texted: Maggie, can we meet? Ill explain everything. She didnt reply. He sent another: Ill talk to my mum, get her to soften the list. Still nothing. Then, late at night: I cant live without you. Please answer. She switched the phone off.
The next morning at work she tried to focus on numbers, but the thirtypoint list kept popping into her mind. How could anyone in the twentyfirst century demand such things?
Maggie Thomson, theres a visitor, the secretary announced.
Maggie frowned. Could it be?
In the reception sat Eileen, immaculate in her suit, a briefcase at her feet.
What are you doing here? Maggie asked.
We need to talk.
We have nothing to discuss.
Actually we do. Five minutes of your time.
Curiosity won. Maggie led her into the meeting room.
I left before you finished.
I heard enough.
No, you dont know the whole story.
I dont want to know.
Eileen spoke of her older son, Andrew, who married against her wishes, was reckless, cheated, and then died in a crash with his wife. Shed found his letters, his mockery, his use of her money.
Im sorry, but I cant let history repeat.
Youre suffocating him!
Im protecting him.
The exchange grew heated. Eileen claimed shed made Tom a respectable man; Maggie retorted that at thirtyseven he still lived under his mothers thumb.
Finally Eileen stood.
If you dont accept my terms, Tom will find someone else who will.
Maggie stayed seated, the weight of the conversation settling. She realised you couldnt turn a single tragedy into a lifetime prison for another.
The day dragged on. Tom called a few times, but she ignored him. Later, leaving the office, she spotted his car in the lot. He waited, hopeful.
Maggie, please listen.
What?
I love you, but mum shes all I have left.
You could have a family of your own.
Only if the woman agrees to the list.
He confessed that the new girl his mum introduced had signed up to every point she needed the money and status. He felt sorry for himself, but the arrangement suited his mother.
Maggie told him it was too late to change anything. He left, looking defeated.
Weeks later Lucy dragged her to a café after work.
Stop pining over his mums son.
Im not pining, just thinking.
He showed his true colours.
He isnt a bad bloke, just weak.
Do you need a weak bloke?
No, I dont.
She agreed, Lets move on.
It wasnt easy to just forget half a year of love, but she remembered the good moments, his kindness, his care all filtered through his mothers control.
One Saturday she visited her own mum in the suburbs, a cosy little house full of paintings and clutter, the opposite of Eileens immaculate cottage.
Maggie, you look glum, her mum said, pulling her into a hug.
All good, Mum.
Dont lie. Whats up?
Over tea she spilled everything.
Its a relief it turned out this way.
Why?
Imagine marrying him not knowing the list, then finding out. Itd have been worse.
Her mum smiled.
A good motherinlaw is a blessing; a terrible one is a curse.
How did you get on with your own grandma?
We were friends. She treated me like a daughter, I treated her like a mum. Thats rare.
Maggie felt a warmth she hadnt felt in months.
Mum, will I find a decent man?
Of course. Youre young, beautiful, smart. Just dont settle for less than you deserve.
That evening she came home to a surprise: a huge basket of roses with a note, Im sorry. Ill fix this. Tom. She placed them in a vase, admiring their beauty, but knowing they wouldnt change anything.
Lucy called later.
A single rose, huh?
What did you do with it?
Just put it in water.
You wont go back?
No. Itd be a waste.
The next day Tom rang from an unknown number.
Maggie, dont hang up. Give me two minutes.
Speak.
I talked to my mumShe hung up, sighed, and finally let go of the past, stepping forward into a brighter, unburdened future.
