“You’re not family to us,” said the daughter-in-law when I brought flowers on the day they filed the paperwork.
“Margaret Elizabeth, you left work early today,” remarked Mrs. Bennett, my neighbour, as she met me by the front steps. “Feeling poorly?”
“No, Mrs. Bennett, I’m quite well. Just had some urgent matters,” I replied, adjusting my handbag on my shoulder.
“Well, thats good. At our age, you never know. My blood pressure shot up yesterdaythought Id have to call an ambulance.”
I nodded, barely listening. My mind was fixed on one thinggetting to the city centre in time. My son, Oliver, hadnt given an exact time, but I knew young couples usually filed their marriage notices first thing in the morning.
The bus crawled through traffic, and I fidgeted with my documentspassport, payslips, proof of addresseverything they might need if they sorted the paperwork in one go.
I pictured Olivers surprise when he saw me, how Charlotte might blush and thank me for coming. After all, this was a milestonehow could they do it without their parents?
The registry office stood in an old building at the heart of London. Climbing the steps, my heart raced just as it had forty years ago when Id married my late husband, Thomas. Back then, my parents had been by my side.
The lobby was bustling. Couples filled in forms, parents registered newborns, and I scanned the room, but Oliver was nowhere in sight.
“Excuse me,” I asked the woman at the desk, “where do we file marriage notices?”
“Second floor, room two-oh-seven,” she replied without looking up.
The hallway upstairs was long, with creaking floorboards and high ceilings. I peeked into the open door.
“Mum? What are you doing here?” Oliver sounded startled.
He sat across from a stern-looking clerk, Charlotte beside him in a smart blue dress. Their passports and papers lay on the desk.
“Oliver, darling!” I beamed. “I couldnt miss this! I wanted to be here for you.”
Charlotte shot him a glance before turning to me with a cool, “Hello, Margaret.”
“Charlotte, love! Congratulations!” I moved to hug her, but she stiffened.
“Excuse me,” the clerk cut in, “but were in the middle of processing. If youd like to stay, please take a seat.”
I sat and pulled out the small bouquet Id boughtlilies, Charlottes favourite.
She took them without warmth. “Thank you.”
“Now, the preferred wedding date?” the clerk asked.
“October fifteenth,” Oliver said.
“Eleven a.m. is available. Suitable?”
They nodded.
“Oliver, perhaps a Saturday?” I suggested. “Weekdays are difficult for relatives.”
“Mum, weve decided,” he said firmly.
“Of course, youre adults. You know best.”
Charlottes irritation was plain, but I ignored it. Nerves, surely.
“Will you have witnesses?”
“Yes, my brother and her friend,” said Charlotte.
“What about parents signing too?” I offered. “For sentiment.”
“Mum, its only two witnesses by law,” Oliver explained patiently.
“Oh, of course. Im just so excited for you.”
The paperwork took another half-hour. I watched them fondlyso serious, so grown-up. When they finished, I stood first.
“Right! Time to celebrate! Ive booked a table at that lovely café near Covent Garden. Their cakes are divine.”
Oliver and Charlotte exchanged glances.
“Mum, we werent planning anything today,” he said carefully.
“But its a special occasion! We must mark it properly.”
“Margaret,” Charlottes voice was ice, “wed prefer to spend the day alone.”
“Oh. Well, perhaps this evening? Ive already bought ingredients for your favourite shepherds pie.”
“Mum, weve made other plans.”
Something inside me tightened. Id dreamed of sharing this daycafés, wedding talk, laughter. Instead, I felt like an intruder.
“But Im your mother,” I said weakly. “How can you do this without me?”
“Were adults, Mum. Well manage.”
Outside, the sun shone. Couples strolled the square, posing by the fountain. Walking beside them, I felt invisible.
“Oliver, lets take a photo. Just one, for memorys sake?”
He sighed. “Fine.”
I fumbled with my phone. “Stand closer. Charlotte, smile, love!”
Her smile was forced. I snapped a few shots.
“Lovely! Ill frame these straight away.”
“Mum, we should go,” Oliver said, checking his watch.
“Where to? Ill walk with you.”
“We want to be alone,” Charlotte said sharply.
I bit back my hurt. Hugging Oliver, I reached for Charlotte, but she stepped away.
“Goodbye,” she said stiffly.
“Ill call tomorrow,” Oliver promised.
I watched them leave, then trudged to the bus stop, my joy soured. All Id wanted was to be part of their happiness.
On the bus, I scrolled through the photos. Oliver looked happy; Charlottes smile never reached her eyes.
At home, I cooked the shepherds pie anyway, though Id be eating alone. My mind kept replaying the registry office.
Why had Charlotte been so cold? Wed known each other six monthsshed always been polite, though she never visited. Id assumed she was shy.
The phone rang as I served myself.
“Margaret, how did it go?” Mrs. Bennett chirped.
“Its done. Theyve filed.”
“Wonderful! Did they invite you to celebrate?”
“No. They wanted time alone.”
“How odd! In my day, parents were always included.”
“They say theyre grown now.”
“Grown or not, a mother is a mother. You raised that boy alone after Thomas passed. And this is the thanks you get?”
I sighed. She wasnt wrong.
“Talk later, Mrs. Bennett. My dinners getting cold.”
The pie was perfect, but I had no appetite. The flat felt hollow.
By evening, my friend Eleanor called.
“Well? Did they file?”
“Yes.”
“Why so glum? You should be thrilled!”
“I am. Just tired.”
“Out with it. What happened?”
Haltingly, I told her.
“That little madam!” Eleanor fumed. “Who does she think she is? A sons mother is sacred!”
“Ellie, dont. Maybe she was nervous.”
“Nervous? Shes marking her territory! Olivers softshes got him wrapped around her finger. Bet shes already planning to cut you out.”
I stayed silent. The thought had crossed my mind.
“Listen, dont fret. Once theyve lived together a while, shell see a mother-in-laws worth. Especially with grandchildren.”
“I dont know. She looks at me like Im the enemy.”
“Itll pass. Just hold your grounddont let her push you about, but dont provoke her either.”
After hanging up, I tidied the kitchen, watched the news, and went to bed early.
Morning brought Olivers call.
“Hi, Mum. How are you?”
“Fine, love. You?”
“Good. Listen, I wanted to talk.”
His tone put me on edge.
“Charlotte was upset yesterday. She felt you werent very welcoming.”
“Not welcoming? I brought flowers! I wanted to celebrate!”
“Yes, but… She said you looked at her like you disapproved.”
I was stunned.
“Oliver, am I not allowed to care about my son?”
“Of course. But Charlotte thinks youre overbearing.”
“Overbearing?” My voice cracked. “I just wanted to share your joy.”
“Mum, were adults. We dont need constant parenting.”
“Im not parenting! Im a mother who loves her son!”
“I know. But Charlottes right. We need space.”
Tears welled.
“So Im surplus now? Raised you alone, gave you everything, and now Im in the way?”
“Mum, dont be daft. Youre not in the way. But I have a wife now.”
“And she has a mother-in-law, but shes forgotten that!”
“Dont start, please.”
A pause. Then, quietly:
“Charlotte said if you keep this up, she wont speak to you.”
The words stung. I went numb.
“I see. Tell Charlotte I know my place now.”
“Mum, dont be angry. We all need time to adjust.”
“Fine. I need time too.”
I hung up and wept. Forty years Id lived for Oliver. After Thomas died, he was my world. Two jobs, every sacrificejust to give him a good life.
And now some girl was dictating my worth.
