Mom, could you watch Max today? Kate asked, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. I have to pop into the office; there are urgent papers I need to collect.
Kate, I have a meeting with the editor at seven this evening, Margaret replied, flipping through her planner. I cant.
Come on, Mum, youre always busy! Hes your grandson, isnt he? Is work really more important than family?
Margaret pressed her lips together. The guilttrip was familiar.
Kate, I told you it was reckless to have a baby with someone you barely know. You ignored my warning. That choice is yours, and the responsibility is yours too.
Fine, Kate snapped coldly. So you dont care about me or the child. Thanks for the support.
She hung up.
Margaret had just turned fiftytwo and, for the first time in years, felt she could finally breathe. A divorce had turned her world upside down fifteen years earlier. Shed raised two daughters on a single income, working two jobs, never allowing herself a moments indulgence. Five years ago, Michael entered her lifea steady, dependable man who accepted her whole history without demanding the impossible.
The girls grew up and earned degrees. With Michael, Margaret helped the elder daughter, Kate, buy a onebedroom flat in Manchester, and the younger, Lucy, secure a studio in a new development. Margaret landed a respectable position at a publishing house, enrolled in Italian classes, and began setting aside pounds for a dream trip to Italy.
But at twentythree Kate married a stranger shed met at a party. Six months later she gave birth. Margaret had warned her against rushing, but Kate didnt listen. Her husband turned out to be unreliable, working sporadically and bringing home money only when luck favoured him. Kate was torn between a newborn and odd jobs, struggling to make ends meet, and Margarets phone rang nonstop with her daughters frantic calls.
One evening Margaret rested her forehead against the cool kitchen window, weary of the endless demand to sacrifice herself. Kate hinted at moving back with her parents, saying it would make life easier for everyone and the baby. Margaret refused, explaining she had her own life, work, and plans. Kate burst into tears, accusing her mother of stealing her youth.
A week later, even more shocking news arrived. Lucy, twenty, had just finished university when she announced she was pregnant. The father was a courier shed dated for three months, living in a shared house with no prospects.
Imagine, Mum, Victor and I are going to be parents! Lucy beamed, flopping onto the sofa. Were having a baby! Isnt that wonderful?
Margaret watched her trembling daughter, irritation building again.
Lucy, have you and Victor thought about how youll raise the child? Where will you live? A studio with a baby? How will you afford everything? she asked calmly.
Lucy fidgeted with the edge of her sweater.
Well, Victor still has a spare room Well figure something out. Mum, youll help us, right? Well need your support.
Margaret set her cup down more sharply than intended.
No, Lucy. You have the right to have a child, but I wont fund a young family. The flat is yours; Ive given you everything I could. Now youll have to manage on your own.
Lucy leapt from the sofa, tears welling.
How can you say that? Youre heartless! Im your daughter! The baby will be your grandchild!
Im telling you the truth, Margaret replied. Youre adults. Youve finished university, Victor works. If you decided to have a child, you must take responsibility yourself. Ive fulfilled my duties. I have my own life and my own plans.
What plans? Isnt family more important than anything else? Lucy shouted, grabbing her bag. Kates right. Youre selfish!
Both daughters stormed out, leaving Margaret standing in the middle of the living room, eyes closed. The family group chat erupted with accusations of greed and coldness. Kate typed long messages about how hard it was for her, insisting her mother should help because it was her duty. Lucy echoed, saying she never imagined her mother could be so indifferent.
Michael tried to comfort Margaret in the evenings, but the tension kept rising. Kate began dropping in unannounced with Max, pushing the stroller into the flat, then sprinting out after a few hours and shouting, Mum, Ill be back in a couple of hours, look after Max. Margaret tried to protest, but Kate was already down the stairs. Michael frowned, but stayed silent. Lucy called in tears, pleading for moral support, complaining that Victor didnt understand her, that they were broke, that she didnt know what to do.
Margaret felt cornered, as if she were a bottomless well everyone expected to draw from forever.
Saturday night was quiet. Margaret and Michael had planned a calm evening at home, a film and a chat about the upcoming Italy trip. Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door.
Michael opened it. Kate stood there, luggage in hand, Max cradled on her hip. Behind her, Lucy appeared, eyes red from crying.
Were moving in with you temporarily, Kate declared, hauling her suitcase inside. Serge will bring the rest of our things later. Well rent out my flat to bring in some money, so I can spend more time with Max while I work.
What? Margaret gasped, frozen in the hallway. Kate, what are you talking about? We never discussed this.
Why discuss? Youre my mother, you ought to help. Who else will? Kate snapped.
Lucy slipped in after her.
Mum, I need money for a cot, she sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. We have nothing. Victor earns little, I cant stay on maternity leave, I need to work.
Something inside Margaret snapped. All the fatigue, irritation, and hurt of the past months burst forth.
No, she said sharply, stepping forward. Kate, pack your things and go home. Lucy, there will be no money. Thats final.
Both daughters stared at her, mouths open.
Youre serious? Kate asked, rocking a crying Max. Are you really doing this?
Absolutely, Margaret crossed her arms over her chest. I raised you, gave you education, bought you flats. Its time you left the nest and built your own lives instead of hanging me on your throats.
How can you say that? Lucy shrieked. Were your daughters! Your blood!
I can, Margaret replied, her voice steady. 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.
Kate shifted Max to her other arm, eyes flashing with anger.
Youre kicking us out? With a baby?
Im not kicking you out. You have a house, Margaret said, unflinching. And you, Kate, have a husband. Sort out your problems yourselves.
Youre a heartless selfish monster! Lucy yelled, stomping her foot. All you think about is your Italy!
Yes, Italy is important to me, Margaret said calmly. My plans, my life. I spent twenty years living for you. What more do you want? To have me babysit you forever?
The sisters exchanged glances, then Kate grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door. Lucy followed, their voices fading down the stairs, tones bitter and hurt.
A week passed with no calls or messages. Michael told Margaret she had done the right thing. Yet a knot of anxiety tightened inside her. Had she been too harsh?
Later she learned that Kate had indeed sold her flat and moved in with her husbands parents in a cramped twobedroom, where she was burdened with endless chores and a motherinlaw who dictated how the baby should be raised. The fatherinlaw muttered about young people being lazy and useless.
Lucys situation came to Margaret through a neighbour who saw her sobbing on a bench outside the block. Victor had fled, scared of responsibility, leaving Lucy alone, pregnant and penniless.
Margaret stood in her kitchen, torn between sympathy and the resolve she had set. She had given her daughters a solid starteducation, roofs, love. How they used it was no longer her concern.
The girls began to call again. Kate complained about her motherinlaw, crying that she couldnt take it any longer. Lucy wept into the phone, saying she was completely alone. Margaret listened, offered empathy, but no financial aidonly advice.
But the daughters wanted more than advice; they wanted Margaret to solve everything, to open her home, to hand over money. Each time she refused.
With Michael, she booked tickets for a threeweek holiday in Italy, the trip she had postponed for years. Before leaving, she called her daughters.
Are you kidding me? Kate replied, bewildered. What about us?
Youre adults. Youll manage, Margaret said, eyeing the suitcase by the door. When you learn to solve your own problems and stop seeing me as a freestanding nanny and ATM, we can speak as equals. Until then, grow up.
Youre abandoning us? Kate whispered.
Im not abandoning you. You have the right to make mistakes. I have the right not to pay for them. Ill always be your mother, but Im not obliged to sacrifice myself for adult childrens poor choices.
Michael waited by the car. Margaret slid into the passenger seat, inhaling a deep, liberating breath. She had finally decided to stop letting guilt control her. She had given her children a good starteducation, shelter, love. She had offered counsel, but they had not listened. Her mission was complete. It was time to think of herself.
She imagined strolling through Romes cobbled lanes, admiring Florences galleries, drifting along Venices canals. Freedom she had earned, a peace she had long denied herself. And as the car pulled away, she understood: caring for others is noble, but a life lived only for others becomes a shadow of ones own. True kindness begins with setting healthy boundaries, for only then can love be given freely, without resentment.
