The groom introduced me to his mother, and she thrust a thirtypage list of duties into my hands.
Evelyn, have you lost your mind? This is madness!
Not madness, Sophie. Im just saying what I think.
But you cant tell the boss his decisions are idiotic!
Evelyn reclined in the swivel chair, a wry smile playing on her lips. At thirtyfive shed learned never to stay silent when something was wrong. Sophie, her colleague and friend, twisted a pen anxiously, glancing toward the office door.
Sophie, if we keep quiet theyll stop treating us like people. The new project is a disaster and Ive said it.
And now?
Nothing. Let them think what they will. My conscience is clear.
Sophie shook her head and went back to her computer. Evelyn checked her phone three missed calls from James. She laughed. James had entered her life six months ago and everything had shifted. After a failed marriage that ended five years earlier, she never expected to love again. James, however, was different attentive, caring, reliable.
She dialed back.
Hi, love. Hows it going?
Same old. Got into it with the boss again.
Youre hopeless, you know that? his voice was warm with amusement. Listen, I need to talk seriously.
Whats up?
Nothing, really. Just Mum wants to meet you. Were going to her place this weekend.
Evelyns heart stopped. Meeting the mother was a serious step. James had spoken often of Margaret Collins, sixtyeight, a widow who lived alone in a cottage on the outskirts of Kent. He described her as strict but fair.
Are you sure? Isnt it a bit early?
Evelyn, weve been together half a year. Its time. Mum keeps asking when Ill introduce her to the woman I talk about all the time.
Fine, Evelyn sighed. Saturday then?
Yes. Ill pick you up at ten. Dont worry, everything will be fine.
The rest of the week flew by in preparation. Evelyn bought a modest darkblue kneelength dress, chose a box of fine chocolates and a bouquet of chrysanthemums James had told her his mother loved those flowers.
Friday night she called Sophie.
Guess what, Im meeting his mum tomorrow.
Oh, thats serious! Are you nervous?
Terrified. What if she doesnt like me?
Dont be ridiculous, youre wonderful. What could she possibly dislike?
I dont know. James says shes strict. What if she decides Im not good enough for her son?
Evelyn, stop overthinking. Itll be fine.
Still, nerves gnawed at her. She slept poorly, waking several times for water. In the morning she agonised over her hair let it down or pull it back. She settled on a neat bun.
James arrived precisely at ten, dressed sharply in dark trousers, a crisp white shirt and a blazer a look she rarely saw him wear.
You look stunning, he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Thank you. You look handsome too, almost a groom.
He smiled oddly, saying nothing more.
The drive took about an hour. James chattered about work and holiday plans, but Evelyn listened halfheartedly. The closer they got to Margarets house, the tighter her chest tightened.
The cottage was a sizeable twostorey home with a tidy garden. At the gate stood Margaret, tall and imposing in a tailored suit, silver hair immaculately arranged, her expression unreadable.
Hello, Mum, James kissed his mothers cheek. This is Evelyn.
Good afternoon, Mrs. Collins, Evelyn offered the flowers and chocolates. Pleasure to meet you.
Margaret inspected her from head to toe, took the gifts, and gave a curt nod.
Please, come in.
Inside was spotless, almost sterile; not a speck of dust, everything in its place. The sitting room featured heavy furniture and family photographs in identical frames.
Have a seat, Margaret gestured to the sofa. Would you like some tea?
Yes, thank you.
While Margaret disappeared to the kitchen, Evelyn examined the pictures: James in school uniform, in military attire, at his graduation, always flanked by his mother; his father appeared only in old, faded photos.
My dad died when I was fifteen, James said quietly, noticing her stare.
Margaret returned with a tray, matching teacups, saucer and sugar bowl. She poured tea and settled opposite Evelyn.
So, Evelyn, James has told me a lot about you.
I hope only good things.
A mix, actually, Margaret sipped. Youre a accountant?
Yes, with a construction firm.
Were you married?
Evelyn tensed. The question was expected, yet still uncomfortable.
I was. We divorced five years ago.
Children?
No.
Why the divorce?
Mother James shifted uncomfortably. Maybe I shouldnt
James, I have the right to know who my son dates, Margaret said sharply, then turned to Evelyn. So why?
We just didnt get along, Evelyn replied calmly.
Thats an excuse. Whats the real reason?
Evelyn inhaled deeply.
He cheated. I found out and filed for divorce.
I see, Margaret nodded. And why no children?
It just never happened.
Health issues?
Mum! James raised his voice. If she has fertility problems, I need to know. I want grandchildren.
Evelyn felt her cheeks flush. The conversation was veering far from what shed imagined.
I have no health problems. It was simply my marriage that fell apart.
Margaret set her cup down.
Now, to business. You may not have heard, but our family has certain traditions and rules. If you intend to become part of it, you must know and obey them.
She rose, walked to a filing cabinet, retrieved a folder and handed Evelyn several stapled sheets.
Whats this? Evelyn asked, bewildered.
Its a list of requirements for the future daughterinlaw. Thirty points. Read carefully.
Evelyn glanced at James, who stared at the floor. She unfolded the paper.
Point one: The daughterinlaw must visit her motherinlaw at least twice a week.
Point two: She must be able to prepare every dish from the family cookbook.
Point three: She must bear at least two children within the first three years of marriage.
Point four: She may not work after the birth of her first child.
Point five: She must approve all major purchases with her motherinlaw.
With each clause her eyes widened. The list went on, dictating attire, household duties, childrearing methods, even the hairstyle she must wear.
Are you kidding? she snapped up.
Im not joking, Margaret said icecold. These are serious demands. My late daughterinlaw adhered to them without question.
You had a older son?
He was. He died in a car crash with his wife three years ago. James is now my only child, and I will not let him marry an unsuitable woman.
Evelyn stared at James.
Did you know about this list?
He nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor.
And you said nothing?
I hoped Mum would change her mind. Or that youd agree.
Agree to this? Evelyn threw the papers onto the table. James, this is medieval!
Dont dramatise, Margaret pursed her lips. These are reasonable conditions for a respectable woman.
Reasonable? Point fifteen says I must hand over my salary!
For the family budget. I will allocate the money properly.
Point twentytwo bans me from meeting friends without your permission!
A married woman has no need for frivolous outings.
And point twentyeight? I must live with you for a year after the wedding?
So I can teach you how to run a proper household.
Evelyn shook her head.
This is insanity. James, how could you bring me here knowing all this?
Evelyn, lets talk calmly
Talk about what? That your mother wants to turn me into a servant?
How dare you! Margaret rose, her face flushing. Im offering you honest terms. In return youll have a wonderful husband, a secure life, a family.
I am not merchandise to be bought!
All women are for sale; the price just varies, Margaret said coldly.
Evelyn seized her bag.
James, drive me home. Now.
Evelyn, wait
If she leaves now without accepting my terms, its over between you, Margaret snapped.
James stood, looked at his mother, then at Evelyn. Pleading filled his eyes.
Evelyn, maybe youll reconsider? Not all points are set in stone; we can discuss
All points are mandatory, Margaret cut in. No exceptions.
Evelyn glanced at James, caught between his love and his mothers iron will.
Take me home, she whispered.
The return drive was silent. James tried several times to speak, but Evelyn turned to the window. At her block he stopped the car, turned to her.
Evelyn, lets talk.
About what? That youve been lying to me for six months?
I didnt lie! I just didnt know how to say it.
You took me to restaurants, gave me flowers, talked of love, while you knew your mother had this list for me.
I hoped shed change when she got to know you better.
She doesnt even want to know me. She wants a robot to obey her commands.
Mum is just lonely. After her husband and brother died, Im all she has.
And what do you have, James? Besides Mum?
He fell silent.
Youre thirtyseven, a grown man. Yet you cant decide without your mothers approval.
Its not like that
It is, James. Im not angry, I feel sorry for you.
Evelyn stepped out of the car, James followed.
Evelyn, wait! I love you!
She stopped at the entrance, turned.
If you truly loved me, you wouldnt have put me through this humiliation. Goodbye, James.
She slammed the door, stripped off her shoes and collapsed onto the sofa. Tears rose, but she held them back. Enough. No more crying over men who dont deserve her tears.
The phone rang. Sophie.
Howd it go? Did Mum like you?
Sophie, it was a nightmare.
What happened?
Evelyn recounted everything. Sophie gasped.
Shes insane! And James, he brought you here like a lamb to the slaughter.
He says he loves me.
He loves his mum more. You were just entertainment for him.
Dont say that.
Its the truth. A decent man would never allow that.
Evelyn knew Sophie was right, but her heart still ached. She loved James, and love doesnt switch off with a snap.
That evening James texted: Evelyn, lets meet, Ill explain. She didnt reply. Later: Ill talk to Mum, get her to soften the list. More silence.
Midnight: I cant live without you. Please answer. She turned the phone off.
The next morning at work she tried to focus on numbers, but the thirtypoint list haunted her. How could anyone in the twentyfirst century demand such things?
Miss Price, you have a visitor, the secretary announced.
Who?
An elderly lady, says its a personal matter.
Evelyn frowned. Could it be?
In the reception area sat Margaret, suit immaculate, posture rigid, handbag on her knee.
What are you doing here?
We need to talk.
Theres nothing to discuss.
There is. Five minutes of your time.
Evelyn wanted to refuse, but curiosity won. She led the woman to the conference room.
Im listening.
Margaret sat, smoothing her skirt.
Yesterday you left before I finished.
I heard enough.
No. You dont know the whole story.
I dont want to know.
My eldest son, Andrew, married against my wishes. I disapproved of his bride; she was frivolous, reckless. He loved her madly, forgave her endless betrayals, until they died in a crash. She was with a lover at the time.
Evelyn remained silent.
After their death I found their letters. She mocked my son, used his money, loved another. I swore never to let that happen again. James is my only son; I must protect him.
Protect? Youre suffocating him!
Im caring for him.
Youve turned him into a puppet who cant step outside your shadow.
Margaret pursed her lips.
I made him respectable.
A respectable man at thirtyseven still lives with his mother and fears contradicting her.
He doesnt live with me. He has his own flat.
Yet you make the decisions.
Margaret stood.
This conversation is futile. Remember, if you reject my terms, James will find someone else. Someone who will accept.
Let him look elsewhere. He might find someone as spineless as he is.
She left, Margarets disdain evident. Evelyn stayed seated, the weight of the story heavy but not excusing the tyranny.
Days passed. James called repeatedly; she let it ring. One evening, leaving the office, she saw his car in the lot. He stood beside it, waiting.
Evelyn, please, listen.
And what? That your mother already came?
She did. The new girl she introduced obeys every single point. Do you know why?
Evelyn stayed silent.
Because she needed the money and status. She told me shed play the perfect daughterinlaw while I funded her.
Im sorry.
No, Im not. I got what I deserved. Mums happy; the girl meets all her demands. Love isnt on the agenda.
What will you do?
I dont know. Probably marry her. Mums already planning the wedding.
Thats madness!
Its my choice, after I didnt stand up for you at the house.
He stood, heading for the door.
I just wanted to say you were right, and I regret everything.
James, its not too late to change.
Too late, Evelyn. Im thirtyseven and still cant live on my own. I wont learn now.
He left, leaving her in turmoil. Part of her wanted to chase him, to stop him, but reason won a man changes only if he wants to, and he didnt.
Six months later Sophie brought news James had married. The ceremony was lavish, all arranged by Margaret. The bride looked content, the groom weary.
My friend was at the wedding, she says he was drinking and barely smiled.
Lets not talk about that.
Fine. I know a man, want to introduce you?
Thanks, but Im not ready.
Evelyn, its been half a year!
I know. Just give me more time.
The story had become a cautionary tale of a mothers control, a sons inability to break free, and a womans resolve to demand the respect she deserves.
