Margaret remembered all too well her conversation with that dreadful woman who had married her beloved son, Oliver. She had tried her best to talk him out of it, but of course, it hadnt workedat least not at first. That plain little nobody from the countryside had far too much nerve for her own good.
“Listen, Margaret,” the girl had said, voice dripping with insolence. “Why pretend youre some wise mother? I can see right through youyou cant stand me. And why should I bend over backwards for you? What gives you the right to barge into our flat every evening uninvited? Were not living off your money.”
Margarets composure shattered instantly. “Excuse me? You dare lecture me? Wait until youve lived as long as I have” The veneer of sophistication peeled away, revealing the petty, small-minded woman beneatha woman who lived only for comfort, no matter who she had to trample to get it.
“Margaret, Oliver and I love each other,” the girlEmilyshot back. “And Ive noticed how your little chats affect him. Wasnt it enough that you kicked out his father and swindled him out of his share of the flat? Now you wont even let your own son breathe? If you cant love him, at least let someone else try.”
Margarets face twisted. “Oh, so thats how it is! Let me tell you something, you little gold-digger. Who do you think you are? Some nobody from godforsaken nowhere! Youd be on the streets if you lost that pathetic little job of yours. And you have the gall to tell me what to do?”
Emily didnt flinch. “So thats how you measure decency? If you steal a flat and throw everyone out, youre some grand lady, but if I earn my own living, Im beneath you? Not all of us latch onto men with property and bleed them dry. And lets not forgetyou werent born in London either, were you?”
That stung. Margaret *had* come from a village once, with no education, no prospects.
“Youll *never* be with my son! A mother is sacredget out!” she shrieked, falling back on the one argument she knew no one could challenge.
Emily only scoffed and walked away. The fight changed nothingOliver married her anyway.
But Margaret didnt give up. When Emily had their son, William, she began poisoning Olivers mind against her. Eventually, they divorced. William was only four.
Still, Margaret couldnt shake the fear that Oliver might go crawling back to that shameless little actress. She knew he still saw her, still paid child support. What she *didnt* know was that Oliver and Emily had never truly separatedthey still lived together, raising William while Margaret believed her son worked in another city.
The plan had been born not just to escape Margarets meddling. Years before the marriage, Oliver had fallen into debt after a disastrous business venture with an old friend.
“Oliver, dont do it,” Emily had warned. “That man, Charleshes a shark. Youre no match for him. Hell chew you up and spit you out.”
“Come on, Em, Charlies a good bloke. Men have to stick togetherthats how we survive in this world.”
“Grow up,” shed snapped. “Decency isnt about gender. Hes using you.”
Oliver didnt listen. Charles made him director of a shell company, vanished with the money, and left him drowning in debt.
It wouldve been better to scrape by on a modest salary than drag his family into ruin. So, he and Emily hatched their planfool his mother *and* his creditors. Margaret gloated over the divorce, never suspecting the truth.
Officially, Oliver lived in company housing, returning to his old job. In reality, he came home every night to Emily and William.
He was happy. Still, once a month, he had to visit Margaret, playing the dutiful son while she shoved “suitable” women at him.
“Should we just tell her? About the debts, about us?” Emily would ask.
“No it would break her. There has to be another way.”
“But how long can we hide? Were like some underground family!”
They were barely scraping byEmilys odd jobs and Olivers wages barely covered the debts. They were poor, trapped. Sometimes Oliver begged Emily to leave him. She never would.
“Emily, why do you keep supporting him?” her mother, Catherine, demanded. “Youve got nothing but problemspaying rent, feeding him Why? Youre not even married anymore!”
Catherine, a retired schoolteacher, offered to take Emily and William into her tiny flat. But not Oliver.
“Mum, I love him. We have a son. I wont abandon him.”
Catherine had raised Emily alone. Shed hoped an ultimatum would make her daughter see sense. But Emily wouldnt budge. So Catherine devised a plan of her own.
“Margaret, we need to talk.” Catherine had travelled all the way from Yorkshire to confront her.
“Debts? And my sons still with *her*? Lying to me all this time?” Margaret was furious.
“Yes. And my daughters breaking her back to support him. Paying rent, putting food on the tableagainst my wishes, I might add.”
“That little *liar*! Pretending hes in another city!”
“What do we do? Were the elderswe have to fix this.”
“How?” Margaret sneered.
“We chip in. Ive got savingsnot much, but for my daughter and grandson.”
“You cant be serious! Hes a grown manI raised him. Thats enough! No help. I wash my hands of him!”
Margaret would sooner die than lift a finger for Oliver.
—
“Fine. Move in with me. Tight squeeze, but well manage.” After Margarets refusal, Catherine relentedfor Emilys sake.
“I dont mind,” Emily murmured.
“Neither do I. Im sorry, Catherine for how Mum acted at the wedding.”
Oliver remembered mocking Catherines Yorkshire familyhow they held their forks “wrong.” Now he knew none of that mattered.
—
“Youre the last person Id ask for help,” Catherine told her ex-husband, Robert, over the phone. “But Emily needs it.”
“Of course Ill help. What do you need?”
“A place for her and William and money, if you can spare it.”
Robert had made a fortune in construction. She expected refusalhed always been tight-fisted.
“How much?”
She named the debt. “If you cant, fine. Just let them live without this hanging over them.”
“Ill do it. On one condition.”
“What?”
“Have dinner with me.”
Catherine laugheda girlish sound she hadnt made in years.
—
Years later, William turned eighteen. The family gatheredCatherine and Robert, holding hands, remarried after a long courtship. Oliver and Emily had stayed together, remarrying toothough Catherine made sure Emily owned the flat Robert bought her first. Oliver had straightened out, working a steady job.
“Everyone here?” William asked.
Then the doorbell rang. William rushed to answerand there stood Margaret.
“William! We agreed” Emily hissed.
“Mum, she kept calling Shes lonely.”
“Took her long enough to apologize,” Catherine muttered.
“Easy, love,” Robert chuckled. “If not for her, we wouldnt be here. Nobodys perfect.”
Oliver frowned. “Mum, whats this about?”
“I just wanted to say Im sorry.” Margarets voice trembled. Shed waited years for them to beg for her forgiveness. Instead, loneliness had swallowed her whole.
Silence. Then someone poured her tea, passed a plate.
No one in this family used the “proper” fork. But they knew generosity. And forgiveness.
