Mom, could you watch Max for me today? Katie asks, her voice weary. I have to pop into work; I need to pick up some urgent paperwork.
Katie, I have a meeting with the editor at seven this evening, Susan replies, flipping through her diary. I cant.
Come on, Mum, youre always busy! Hes your grandson! Is your job really more important?
Susan tightens her lips. The guilttrip starts again.
Katie, I warned you that having a baby with someone you barely know is too rash. You didnt listen. Its your choice, your responsibility.
Fine, Katie snaps coldly. So you dont care about me or the baby. Thanks for the support.
She hangs up.
Susan just turned fiftytwo and finally feels she can breathe. A divorce turned her life upside down fifteen years ago. She raised two daughters on her own, worked two jobs, and gave up everything for them. Five years ago Michael entered her life a calm, reliable man who accepted her whole baggage without demanding the impossible.
The daughters grow up, get educated. With Michael, Susan helps Katie buy a onebedroom flat, and Millyher younger sistergets a studio in a new development. Susan lands a respectable post at a publishing house, signs up for Italian classes, and starts saving for a dream trip to Italy.
But at twentythree Katie marries a stranger she meets on a night out. Six months later she gives birth. Susans warnings about haste fall on deaf ears. Now Katies husband, a flaky type who works only intermittently, brings money home sporadically. Katie juggles a newborn and odd jobs, trying to make ends meet. Since then Susans phone rings nonstop with Katies calls.
Susan leans her forehead against the cool kitchen window, fed up with the endless demand to sacrifice herself. Katie drops hints about moving back in with her parents, saying it would be easier for everyone, especially the baby. Susan refuses, explaining she has her own life, work, and plans. Katie cries into the handset about her wasted youth.
A week later more exciting news arrives. Twentyyearold Milly, barely out of university, announces shes pregnant. The father is a threemonth boyfriend, a courier who rents a room in a hostel and has no prospects. Milly rushes to her mother, beaming, expecting support and enthusiasm.
Mom, guess what? Victor and I are going to be parents! she exclaims, flopping onto the sofa. Were having a little one! Isnt that wonderful?
Susan watches her daughter, irritation building. The same story repeats.
Milly, have you and Victor thought about how youll raise the child? Susan asks calmly. Where will you live? A studio with a baby? How will you afford everything?
Milly fidgets with the edge of her cardigan.
Well, Victor still has his room Well figure something out. Youll help us, right? Well need you.
Susan sets her tea cup down harder than intended.
No, Milly. I have no problem with you having a baby, but Im not going to fund a young family. The flat is yours, thats all I can give. Now youll have to manage on your own.
Milly jumps up, tears welling.
How can you say that? Youre heartless! Im your daughter! The baby will be your grandson!
Im telling you the truth. Youre adults. Youve finished university, Victor works. If you decided to have a child, you must take full responsibility. Ive done my part. I have my own life, my own plans.
What plans? Nothing is more important than family! How can you have plans when your daughters are in trouble? Milly shouts, grabbing her bag. Katies right. Youre selfish!
Katie storms out of the flat. Susan stands in the living room, eyes closed, as both daughters unite against her. The family group chat erupts with accusations of selfishness and coldness. Katie types long messages about how hard it is for her and how a mother should help. Milly agrees, adding that she never expected her mother to be so indifferent.
Michael comforts Susan in the evenings, hugging her, trying to calm the storm. But the tension rises. Katie starts showing up with the baby unannounced, pushing the stroller through the front door and dropping off a note:
Mum, Ill be here for a couple of hours, look after Max.
Susan tries to protest, but Katie darts down the stairs. Michael frowns but stays quiet. Milly calls, crying, demanding at least moral support, complaining that Victor doesnt understand, theres no money, shes lost.
Susan feels cornered. Her daughters keep demanding, as if she were an endless well.
Saturday night is quiet. Susan and Michael plan a calm evening at home, a film, and talk about the Italy trip. A sudden, insistent knock breaks the silence.
Michael opens the door. Katie stands there with suitcases and Max in her arms. Behind her, Milly appears, eyes red from tears.
Mum, were moving in temporarily, Katie says bluntly, dragging a suitcase inside. Serge will bring the rest of our stuff later. Well rent out my flat to get money, so you can look after Max more often while I work.
What? Susan freezes in the hallway. Katie, what are you saying? We never discussed this.
Whats there to discuss? Youre my mother; you should help.
Milly sneaks in after her.
Mum, I need money for a cot, she sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve. We have nothing. Victor earns little, I cant stay on maternity leave, I need to work.
Susan feels something snap inside. All the fatigue, irritation, and hurt of the past months burst out.
No, she says sharply, stepping forward. Katie, go back home. Milly, you wont get any money. Thats it.
Both daughters stare at her, stunned.
Are you serious, Mum? Katie asks, rocking Max, his tiny hand clutching her shirt. Youre really doing this?
Absolutely, Susan replies, arms crossed. I raised you, gave you education, bought you flats. Now fly out of the nest and build your own lives. Dont hang me and your children over your shoulders.
How can you say that? Milly yells. Were your daughters! Your blood!
I can because Im telling the truth. Youre adults. You chose your partners, you chose to have children. I warned you, I gave advice. You ignored it. This is your responsibility, not mine.
Katie shifts Max to her other arm, eyes flashing with anger.
Youre throwing me out? With a baby?
Im not throwing you out. You have a house, Susan says, not looking away. And you have a husband, Katie. Solve your problems yourselves.
You selfish monster! Milly shrieks, stamping her foot. You only care about Italy!
Yes, Italy matters to me, Susan replies calmly. I have my plans, my life. I spent twenty years living for you. What more do you want? To have me nanny you until the grave?
The sisters exchange a look. Katie grabs her suitcase and heads for the door. Milly follows. Susan hears them descending the stairs, their voices a mix of scorn and hurt.
A week passes with no calls or messages. Michael tells Susan she did the right thing. Yet inside, anxiety gnaws at her. Was she too harsh?
Later, Susan learns Katie actually sold her flat. Katie and her husband moved in with his parents, cramped in a tiny twobedroom where shes burdened with endless chores and criticized for every mistake. The motherinlaw raises the grandson as she sees fit; the fatherinlaw grumbles that todays youth are lazy.
She discovers Millys plight from a neighbour who saw her crying on a bench outside the block. Victor fled, terrified of responsibility, packing a bag and disappearing. Milly is left alone, pregnant, with no money.
Susan stands in her kitchen, weighing the news. Pity battles her firm decision not to intervene. She gave her daughters a starta flat, an education, a roof, love. How they used it is no longer her concern.
The daughters start calling again. Katie complains about her motherinlaw, sobbing that she cant take it any longer. Milly cries, saying shes completely alone, unable to cope. Susan listens, sympathises, but offers only advice.
But the daughters want more than advice; they want Susan to solve everything, to let them move in, to give money. Susan refuses each time.
She and Michael finally book threeweek tickets to Italy, the longawaited holiday finally set. Before leaving, Susan calls her daughters, speaking calmly.
Katie, what? Are we abandoning you?
Youre adults, youll manage, Susan answers, eyeing the suitcase by the door. When you learn to solve your own problems and stop treating me as a free nanny and cash source, Ill be glad to talk as equals. Grow up.
Are you leaving us? Katie whispers into the receiver.
Im not abandoning you. You have the right to make mistakes. I have the right not to pay for them, Susan says, grabbing her coat. Ill always be your mother, but Im not obliged to sacrifice myself for adult children and their reckless choices.
Michael waits by the car. Susan steps out, climbs into the sedan, and takes a deep breath. She decides she will no longer be tormented by guilt. She gave her children a good starteducation, a roof, love. She offered advice, but they never listened. Her mission is complete. Its time to think about herself.
She imagines her holiday with Michael: wandering Romes cobbled streets, sipping espresso in Florence, gliding along Venices canals. Freedom she finally earned. Everything feels wonderful.
