Bill felt a heavy lump forming in his throat as he looked at his mother. The frail old woman, dressed neatly and sitting perfectly still, remained in the waiting area where her grown son had left her. He had told her he’d be right back and that they would be heading to their new home together.
It was clear she had dressed up for her trip to the city: a dark blue skirt and a vintage velvet jacket. These were her finest clothes, kept in a cedar chest for special occasions for decades.
This was the breaking point: go back and get her, or…
His phone rang insistently. It was his wife, Linda.
"How much longer are you going to be? There are cameras everywhere these days, get a move on!"
A lifelong habit of unquestioning obedience to her pushed him out of the station doors. Bill walked quickly toward the car, where Linda sat waiting, her gaze sharp and impatient.
Bill used to think his married life was a success. His wife was energetic and practical. If she set her mind to something, she’d move mountains to get her way. "She’ll step over anyone to get ahead," people used to say about her. Her difficult childhood in the foster care system had made her hard, so Bill forgave her brusqueness and her lack of principles when it came to achieving her goals. After all, if he hadn’t met her, he’d still be toiling away as an engineer at the only factory in their small hometown for pennies. Now they lived in the state capital; his wife had her own business and they owned a beautiful apartment.
***
Bill’s mother had raised him alone. His father had drowned when the boy was only six. Back in the day, it was hard for a simple farmhand to raise a child. The lean years of the nineties were even worse. But his mother had managed. She had even seen her son through college. For five years, she had driven garden produce into the city to sell and handed over her entire pension to him. She lived off odd jobs for neighbors in the village. She had worn that same blue skirt and velvet jacket when she came to his graduation; she was so proud of her son. She wanted to look her best standing beside him.
That jacket again!
"Oh, don't worry," Linda said encouragingly. "Everything is going according to plan. I don't make mistakes. And we really need that money right now!" She gave Bill a triumphant wink. He remained silent, as usual.
The idea had come to his wife a year ago. She needed capital to expand the business, and she was tired of apartment living. Linda dreamed of a house in the suburbs. Then, an old high school classmate of Bill’s stopped by and mentioned that an upscale gated community was being built near their home village. People were selling their modest cottages for excellent prices. Linda lit up. For the first time in twelve years of marriage, she went to visit her mother-in-law. She inspected everything with a businesslike eye, even praised the dinner, and thanked her warmly for her hospitality when they left. She even left a gift: a wool shawl. Bill hadn’t seen his mother that happy since graduation day. He didn’t realize right away what was behind the sudden change.
Back home, Linda laid out the plan as a settled matter. As always, Bill’s opinion wasn't asked. His mother would sell the house and give the money to her son; she had no use for it anyway.
"Will Mom live with us? In the new house?" Bill had asked hopefully.
"As if! I don’t need an old lady underfoot. There are plenty of assisted living facilities and shelters. The only problem is they won’t take her for free since she isn't 'abandoned,' and we can’t afford the monthly fees. We need the money ourselves. So, when she comes to the city, you’ll leave her in the station waiting room. Tell her you’ll be back soon and to wait for you. Eventually, they’ll pick her up as a lost soul with no family and place her somewhere."
Seeing his indignation, Linda softened her tone. She had said the main part; now she just had to squeeze consent out of her husband. She had no doubt the mother would sell the house and want to move closer to them.
"We aren't leaving her forever," she told him daily. "Later, when we’ve made a bit more money, we’ll 'find' her. We’ll buy a little place for her nearby."
"Maybe she should stay with us for now, she won't be in the way," Bill resisted feebly, knowing deep down he couldn't stand against his wife’s momentum.
***
It hadn’t taken much to convince his mother. Everything went as planned: the house sold for a good price, and the money had already been transferred to Linda’s account. His mother had arrived in the city and was now sitting in that waiting room. But that velvet jacket! She had come to her son as if to a celebration, dressed in her absolute best.
The lump in his throat returned. Bill sighed loudly and gripped the steering wheel.
"We're going back to the station right now," he prepared the sentence, even drawing in a breath so his voice would sound firm.
Linda reached over and moved her husband's hand. She turned up the upbeat music on the radio.
"It's done. The matter is settled," she said commandingly.
The sentence he had prepared remained unspoken.
0 comments