Susan Miller stood at her kitchen sink, stirring a pot of soup with a thoughtful sigh. The same thought kept looping in her head: Wouldnt it be nice to have a day where I do absolutely nothing?
Her daughter, Poppy, popped into town every weekend and somehow always managed to unwind, while Susan, as if on autopilot, whirled around the kitchen feeding the whole clan.
The day before Poppys visit, Susan gave the flat a onceover that would make a professional cleaner blush. Guests were coming, her husband Andrew would be home late from the office, tired as ever, so the household chores fell squarely on her shoulders.
When boredom crept in, Susan would ring Poppy midweek just to hear her voice, or to ask for a quick piece of advice. It was a little sad, even a touch irritating, that Poppy was always so busy.
Poppys job was demanding, her position important, and she was notoriously nervous, so she would snap back, Mum, why are you calling again? We dont answer personal calls at work. If its urgent, just text I told you not to ring!
But typing offered no comfort; Susan just wanted a familiar voice.
One afternoon Susan realised shed never had a weekend where she could simply lounge. She longed to be fed a meal someone else had cooked. Though Andrew helped and they tackled many chores together, she felt like a retiree on a welldeserved break who was still chained to endless todo lists.
Lets pay a visit, she declared, and after a quick consultation with Andrew, they agreed to swing by Poppys place for the bank holiday.
Poppy seemed genuinely pleasedat first. Yet, accustomed to her mums constant assistance, she was taken aback when Susan and Andrew spent the first half of the afternoon chatting with the grandchildren, only to plonk themselves down in front of the telly to watch a concert.
Poppy had been counting on the traditional feast: Mums pies, her famous salad, and all the trimmings. Instead, the parents announced, Were knackered, love. Its brilliant that we could make it over to you.
Caught off guard, Poppys face fell; she felt let down, as if her mother had abandoned the plan.
Susan saw the disappointment and, for a moment, her eyes dulled. She understood.
So, she rested at her daughters after all.
Susan was the sort of person who always put others first, and the thought of idly lounging made her feel oddly guilty. She was oldschool, a touch of a Sovietera work ethicthe kind that says, If it needs doing, it gets done.
She let out a weary sigh.
Poppy worked long hours, her husband Victor was equally swamped, and Andrew, despite his grey hair, was still going strong.
With a bright smile, Susan marched to the kitchen to start the holiday lunch.
Poppy followed, intending to point out how Susan had let her down. She nudged the kitchen door open and saw her mother from a new angle.
Not the perennially chipper, everreadytohelp mum, but a slightly forlorn, notsoyoung woman without her usual grin.
A hint of resignation crept onto Susans face; she hadnt realised anyone was watching, so the smile stayed hidden.
It hit Poppy hard. Shed always imagined Mum as spry, yet here she was
She rushed over, gave her a hug, a kiss, and tried to make amends:
Mum, I was about to try a new recipe and got a bit flusteredthought youd lend a hand. If youre not up for it, thats finemakes it a surprise for everyone, you included. Oh, and I bought you some fancy skincarecream for your face, hands, the lot. Well chat more at the table and Ill show you everything. For now, enjoy the concert, love.
She handed Susan the pricey cosmetics shed bought for herself.
A sudden, childish pang of fear washed over Poppy. Time was ticking; her mother was aging, and they rarely got a moment alone. What if Mum wasnt there one day? How would she cope?
Memories surgedchildhood, teenage years, the day she married and gave birth, when Mum always dropped everything for her, treating Poppys problems as if they were the most urgent in the world. Even at night, Mum would answer the phone if Poppy called, despite having to be up early for work.
Susans eyes softened, a warm smile blooming as she heard her daughters words. All the old grievances melted away, and a fresh burst of energy seemed to fill the room.
From then on, whenever they met, Poppy didnt dump chores on Mum; they tackled everything together and still found time for hearttoheart chats.
Now Poppy even rings during her lunch break, just to hear Mums voice.
She makes sure to carve out time for Susan, looks after her, and hopes therell never be a day when the tables turn and Mum has nobody to call.
