William stood with a lump in his throat, watching his mother. The frail, elderly woman, neatly dressed, sat motionless in the waiting room where her grown son had left her, promising he’d be back soon and they’d head home together.
It was clear she’d dressed up for the trip to the city: a dark navy skirt and a plush jacket. Outfits carefully stored in a trunk for special occasions, untouched for decades.
This moment was pivotal: return and take his mother home, or…
His phone rang insistently. It was his wife, Emily.
— Hurry up already! There are cameras everywhere, so move it!
Years of unquestioning obedience to her pushed him out of the station doors. He strode quickly to the car, where Emily waited, her eyes flashing with impatience.
William believed his family life was a success. His wife was spirited, calculating. When she set her mind on something, she’d move mountains to get it. “She’ll walk over anyone,” people said of her. Her harshness came from a childhood in an orphanage, so he forgave her bluntness and ruthless ambition. After all, without her, he’d still be languishing as an engineer at the only factory in their small town, earning a pittance. Now they lived in the regional capital, Emily ran her own business, and they owned a nice apartment.
William’s mother raised him alone. His father drowned when the boy was six. In Soviet times, it was tough for a simple milkmaid in a collective farm to raise a child. The ‘90s were even worse. But his mother managed. Her son even graduated from university. For five years, she sold garden produce in the city and gave him her pension, living off odd jobs for neighbors. She wore that same navy skirt and plush jacket when she came to his graduation, beaming with pride, wanting to shine beside her son.
That jacket again!
— Don’t worry, — Emily reassured him, — everything will go as planned. I don’t make mistakes! And this money is just what we need right now! — She winked triumphantly at William. As always, he stayed silent.
The idea struck Emily a year ago. They needed money to expand her business, and their apartment no longer felt enough. Emily dreamed of a suburban house. Then William’s old schoolmate visited, mentioning that an upscale gated community was being built near their home village. Locals were selling their modest homes for good money. Emily’s eyes lit up. For the first time in their twelve years together, she visited her mother-in-law. She inspected everything briskly, even complimented the dinner and thanked her warmly for the hospitality as they left, leaving a woolen scarf as a gift. William hadn’t seen his mother so happy since his graduation. He didn’t immediately grasp why she seemed so different.
At home, Emily laid out her plan as if it were already settled. William’s opinion, as usual, wasn’t sought. His mother would sell her house and give the money to her son—she didn’t need it.
— Will Mom live with us? In the new house? — William asked, hopeful.
— Are you kidding? I don’t need an old lady underfoot. There are plenty of nursing homes and shelters! The problem is, they won’t take her for free since she’s not alone, and we can’t afford to pay for her care. We need the money ourselves. So, when she comes to the city, you’ll leave her in the station waiting room, say you’ll be back soon, and let her wait. They’ll find her as a lost, lonely woman and place her somewhere.
Seeing his shock, Emily softened her tone. She’d said the main part; now she just needed his agreement. She had no doubt his mother would sell the house and want to move in with them.
— We’re not abandoning her forever, — she reassured him daily. — Once we make more money, we’ll “find” her. We’ll buy her a little house nearby.
— Maybe she could stay with us for now? She won’t be any trouble, — William resisted weakly, knowing deep down he’d cave under his wife’s pressure.
Convincing his mother didn’t take long. Everything went as planned: the house sold for a good price, the money was transferred to Emily’s account. His mother arrived in the city and sat in the waiting room. She’d dressed up for her son, wearing her finest, as if for a celebration.
That plush jacket again! The lump in his throat returned. William sighed heavily and placed his hand on the steering wheel.
“We’re going back to the station now,” he prepared to say, drawing a deep breath to make his voice firm.
Emily moved his hand away. She turned on upbeat music.
— It’s done! — she declared commandingly.
The words he’d prepared remained unspoken.
No comments