Great, youve finally come, I heard my mother, Evelyn, exclaim as I stepped through the doorway. I pushed my battered flat cap to the side of the threshold and called out, Hey, Mum. I hesitated a beat, then added, Im not alone. I nudged the skinny lad in glasses and a rucksack forward.
Good heavens, my dear, youve brought my grandchild! Is this Tom or Charlie? I cant tell without his glasses, Evelyn blurted, pulling a chair up to the kitchen table.
I sat down and replied, Put him on. This is Vince, my son out of wedlock. Remember when Agnes and I split for a year? I got together with Valerie then, and Vince was born. I signed him up by mistake, I sighed, feeling the weight of the confession.
Evelyn snapped at me, What are you talking about in front of the child? Hes too young to know about your messy life. Vince, go into the sittingroom and have a look at the telly while we sort things out with your dad.
The boy slipped out silently and closed the door behind him. Evelyn lowered her voice, Does Agnes know about him? she asked. She never liked her sons wifealways quarrelsome and sharptongued, I replied.
A shiver ran through my spine. Mum, if she found out shed have thrown us out long ago. I built him from the ground up with my own hands, though, I muttered.
She rolled her eyes. Youre such a hopeless fool, not a man but a wimp. Always under Agness heel. How did you manage to have a child on the side? And why bring him here? If Agnes finds out Ill be in real trouble.
I tried to explain, voice trembling, Valerie, she was about to get married, then ran off with some new fella down South for a month. She phoned me, said, Take the boy wherever you like, even bring him home. I told her Id gone mad, that I have a wife whod kick us both out. She threatened me, said shed make life hard if I didnt cooperate. Ill give Agnes the birth certificate and youll figure out what to do. Thats it. Its the end of me. Valerie barely forgave me; she hadnt spoken to me for six months. So I thought, let him stay with you for a month, then Ill come back for him, I said, not daring to meet my mothers eyes.
Evelyn shook her head. Youve been that way since you were a boy, and you still are. If you get into any more trouble, Ill have to help. Fine, where do you want to leave him? Keep the lad, but make sure hes truly yours, she paused, Is he really yours?
I waved my hand. Hes mine, no doubt. Valerie isnt sugar, but Im a loyal old woman, I replied with a grin.
Silence fell. Then Evelyn sprang up. What am I standing here for? Lets get him something to eat before he goes hungry.
I rose, Sorry, Mum, Ive got to be off. Agnes is waiting at home. I told her I was heading to the market for parts. Feed Vince and Ill be on my way.
Evelyn wrapped her arms around me, my wayward son, and whispered, Take care, my dear.
Vince devoured his meal in a flash, eyes never leaving the plate. Want more? Evelyn asked, pitying his quick consumption.
No, thank you, he said, pushing his chair back.
Take a walk outside, and Ill finish dinner. Whats in your rucksack? she inquired.
Stuff, he muttered.
And you washing your own clothes, or do I have to? she asked.
He stared at her, frightened. I cant. Mum always did the washing.
Evelyn lifted his small bag. All right, Ill have a look and rinse whatever is dirty.
He stepped out while she sorted through a few simple items: two tshirts, a pair of shorts, and some underwear. Not much, she chuckled, Not even a warm sweater. Typical motherly neglect. She soaked the clothes in a basin and turned to bake a cherry pie.
A shout rose from the street. Evelyn rushed out, flour still clinging to her hands.
Whats happened? she called.
Vince howled, clutching his leg. A goose pecked me! It hurts, tears streamed down his face.
Why were you near the geese? They were out grazing, and you were in the yard, she asked, eyeing the red bruise on his shin.
I just wanted to look at them, he sniffed.
You never saw geese before? she wondered.
Ive seen them, but I never got close, he whispered.
Alright, lets get you inside; Ill rub some ointment on that, she said, taking his hand.
After dinner she settled him on the sofa. She lay awake, thinking of how life had twisted. Shed never have sent her own Peter to a strangers house. The boys trousers were expensive, his future uncertain. Then she heard a soft whimper, a boys sob. She knelt beside him.
Whats the matter, love? Dont you like staying here? Wait a month, Mum will come and take you back, she soothed.
He lifted his head, voice trembling. She wont. I heard her and Uncle Victor saying theyll send me to a boarding school when they return, only taking me back for holidays. I dont want that; Im happy here with Mum. Uncle Victor doesnt even call me by my name. Youre a good granny, but Im not needed, he cried.
Evelyns heart clenched. She hugged his thin frame. Dont cry, dear Vince. I wont let anyone hurt you. Should I speak to your mother? You could stay with me. We have a good school here and nice teachers. Well go mushroompicking, berrypicking, milk our cow. Youre little now, but a good drink of milk will make you strong. Dont believe me? Tomorrow Ill introduce you to Paul. Hes a solid boy, as round as a bun. Want that?
He wrapped his arms around her neck. I do. And you wont lie to me?
She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Never.
Years passed. Valentina sometimes visited, bringing gifts, but always hurried away by Victor. Nicholas appeared now and then. Agnes learned about Vince and blamed me, not him, saying she didnt need grandchildren, only little trinkets. I didnt mind. The frail boy grew into a sturdy young man. Every morning Id set his favourite breakfast on the table and glance out the window, hoping to see him. One day a young soldier stepped into the house and called softly, Gran, Im here, where are you?
She flung herself into his arms. Vince, my dear grandson!
Are you going to the mothers? she asked.
He set down his fork, puzzled. Which mother? The one who abandoned me and only sends me trinkets once a year? No, Im not going. Youre my mum, and thats final, he said, calmly resuming his meal.
Evelyn wiped away a tear, grateful for the grandson who had become her strength in old age. Her blood, her legacy.
