Margaret Anne adjusted a strand of gray hair and smiled. She was in high spirits today, eagerly awaiting her son, James, for a visit. He lived close by—in the next building over.
Margaret had already passed her eightieth year, so her son had bought her a one-bedroom apartment in his building. Now nothing prevented them from seeing each other often, which brought her great joy. After all, her years were catching up with her: one day her heart would act up, the next her blood pressure would spike. But knowing her son was nearby gave her comfort.
One thing alone saddened the elderly woman: her son was divorced and had been living alone for quite some time. Thank goodness no children had come from his two-year marriage, or she’d be worrying about grandchildren too.
James had trained as a lawyer. After his studies, he landed a senior position at a law firm and earned a good living. Everything seemed fine, except his personal life was a string of disappointments. He remained a bachelor, unable to find his true match. Margaret Anne sighed at the thought and headed to the kitchen to bake her son’s favorite oatmeal cookies.
An hour later, James stood at the apartment’s threshold. Without taking off his coat, he hugged his mother, his gaze falling on a slender young woman bidding farewell to Margaret. She hurried out of the apartment, greeting him briefly as she passed.
James looked at his mother with surprise.
— A neighbor? Or have you started making young friends in your new place?
— You’re the one who found me a cleaner to help with the apartment. Forgot already? — Margaret replied, equally surprised.
— Oh! — James slapped his forehead. — From the agency. I’ve been so swamped. What a paradox—they send me older workers, but for someone your age, they send a young one. That’s just unfair, — he teased. — So, what do you think of her? Like her?
— I do. She’s a kind, modest girl. And practical too—she’s quick and cleans thoroughly. Maybe we should send her to your place? I wouldn’t mind older help.
— Here we go again! — James grumbled. — I’ve told you a hundred times, stop trying to play matchmaker. I’ll figure out my personal life myself. — Pour the tea quick, I’ve got to run to work.
— Matchmaker, huh! — Margaret pursed her lips, offended. — You got burned with that Sarah of yours, and now you’re scared of every woman? There are good girls out there, you just haven’t met them. Take this one, for example—what’s wrong with her?
— For starters, she’s a cleaner! That means she’s a girl with no ambition, no real purpose in life. She’s young, healthy, and scrubbing floors in other people’s homes. She should respect herself more! — James said indignantly, then faltered under his mother’s stern gaze.
— Where did I go wrong raising you? How can you judge someone you don’t even know, someone you’ve seen for the first time? — Margaret said, upset. — I spoke with her, and she told me she’s studying law at the university. She’s had a tough life—grew up without a father, raised by her mother alone. She has a little sister too. And Mary earns an advanced scholarship and works evenings. You call that having no purpose?
James sulked. Scolded like a child for misbehaving. He admitted to himself he’d been too quick to judge. But her beauty had struck him so much! It frustrated him—a girl that stunning, working as a cleaner. It just didn’t add up!
Learning from his mother when Mary came to clean, James decided to see the young cleaner again. The following Friday, he visited a bit earlier.
While Margaret busied herself in the kitchen, he stole glances at the girl. She worked so swiftly and gracefully that her practiced movements resembled a ritual dance of tidying up.
Margaret unhurriedly set three large cups and small bowls for strawberry jam on the table. She decided to invite Mary to join them. The girl had just finished cleaning and was getting dressed in the hallway. It took a few insistent invitations to practically drag her to the kitchen, where James was pouring tea.
Mary was indeed captivating: slender, with smooth dark hair and mischievous green eyes.
A conversation slowly sparked. James was the first to ask a question:
— You’re studying law, so why not find a job in your field? — Our firm, for example, is looking for legal assistants.
— It’s too early for me to work in my field, — Mary replied firmly. — I want to feel like a highly qualified professional, not an inadequate worker. I’m studying a lot, reading. So for physical activity, instead of gym sessions, I took a simple job. I earn money to help my mom, and it gives my brain a break from studying, — she added.
— Well done, dear, — Margaret supported her. — No job should be a source of shame.
James looked closely at the flushed girl.
— You’re impressive, but you’d benefit from an internship at our firm. I can help arrange it. It’ll be useful for your future career. Let me know, — he advised.
After Mary left, mother and son lingered in the kitchen. They sat in silence. From James’s dazed look, Margaret could tell he was smitten. She didn’t interfere: *Let him figure it out. His eyes are sparkling—I haven’t seen him like this in ages.*
Time passed. Friday tea became a mandatory ritual. The trio spent cheerful moments sipping tea from large green cups.
— Shall we make it a party of three? — James would joke, seating Mary next to him, losing himself in her green eyes. They could talk about anything: James’s workdays, Mary’s studies, or Margaret’s ailments.
One evening, Margaret asked her son:
— How long are you going to sit here drinking tea with this girl? Maybe it’s time to take Mary to a restaurant instead of the kitchen?
— Mom, I don’t even recognize myself. I don’t know how to do it. It feels awkward, — James admitted.
— Oh, I raised a shy one, — Margaret sighed, disappointed. — Ask her out the first chance you get! — Her command was firm and non-negotiable.
But the next Friday, Mary didn’t show up. The cleaning agency called to say another worker would come instead—Mary had taken urgent leave.
James was visibly upset, which didn’t escape his mother’s notice. He even refused tea, sat for five minutes, handed over a bag of groceries, and left with a gloomy expression.
Ten days later, Mary returned. She explained she’d had to visit home for a few days due to family matters.
When she entered the kitchen that Friday, she was surprised to see a festive table set.
— What’s the occasion? — she asked, curious.
— Another year of my life gone by. I got older yesterday, and we celebrated my birthday. Just a small gathering—me, James, and the neighbors across the hall. Now we’ll be eating leftovers for ages, — Margaret sighed playfully.
— Your birthday? What a coincidence… — Mary laughed. — I celebrated mine the day before yesterday. Born almost on the same day. I owe you a gift!
— As the responsible man here, I’m inviting you to a restaurant, — James seized the moment. — We’ll celebrate both occasions together.
Margaret, not wanting to intrude on the young pair, decided to be a little sly.
— I support the plan, but you two go without me, dears. My head’s aching—probably my blood pressure acting up with the weather.
After the restaurant outing, James and Mary started dating. Their romantic meetings continued for about two months. Gradually, their affection grew into mutual love. One evening, as James walked Mary to her dorm, he gently hugged and kissed her at the door.
— My love, be my wife. I can’t live without you. When you disappeared so suddenly, I was terrified I’d never see you again. I nearly lost my mind…
— Marry a cleaner? I thought you didn’t approve? — Mary laughed happily.
— None of that matters anymore. I just want to be with you. I want my cleaner… my cook, my wife, the mother of our future children…
— That’s quite a list of demands. Can I handle it all? — she smiled, pressing closer to her beloved.
— You’re the kind who can do anything! And I’ll always be by your side, helping you every step of the way…
Five years of happy marriage followed. The couple now works together at the law firm, raising a son and a daughter. Mary has become a highly qualified and sought-after professional.
They don’t use housekeeping services. Mary manages all the household chores herself, with her husband’s help, of course. And sometimes, James affectionately calls her his “beloved cleaner,” a tender nod to their chance meeting.
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