Why arent you opening the door?
I dont want to! And I wont. Guests should warn before visitingand keep their hands out of drawers, fridges, and cupboards.
What do you mean, you wont? Thats my mother! She came to see me!
Then go greet her! But not in my house.
Emily always got on better with my mother.
You know, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both be embarrassed.
Though Im not so sure about myself, Lucy cut in sharply, scrubbing the kitchen table. If you both got on so well with Emily, why did you break up?
Edward turned away, offended, and glared out the window.
Well you know the story.
I do. So dont tell me about your precious Emily, Lucy snapped. Or Ill be your next ex.
She was already prepared to take drastic measures.
Shed met Edward nearly a year ago at a mutual friends gathering. She even knew Emily, though not well. Emily had brought Edward alongthen vanished from the radar months later.
One evening, after a few too many drinks, Edward confessed hed left Emily after catching her cheating. Hed even shed a tear.
At the time, Lucy found it endearinga man unafraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something clicked in her, a urge to comfort him.
She realized later that something was likely maternal instinct, not romance. But it was enough to start a relationship.
It began beautifully. He met her after work, drove her home, sent sweet messages daily, and fussed over whether she was dressed warmly enough. Lucy felt cherished.
The first warning came when Emily messaged her.
*Hey. Heard youre seeing Edward. None of my business, but be careful. He and his mum are a package deal.*
Lucy noted it but brushed it off. Love overcame worse obstacles. Just because things went poorly with one woman didnt mean they would with another.
*Thanks for the warning,* she replied, eager to end the conversation. It felt disloyal to Edward.
Edward, however, had no such qualms about her comfort.
When his mother, Margaret, first dropped by unannounced, Lucy stayed calm. Perhaps they didnt realize how intrusive it was. Maybe Margaret just worried about her son and wanted to see who he lived with.
Lucy sent Edward to greet her, hastily dressed, and stumbled out, still half-asleep, to meet her potential mother-in-lawwho was already rifling through the dresser in the parlour.
Ah, everythings a mess, Margaret said with a condescending smile. Socks will go missing next. Lucy, after breakfast, Ill teach you how to fold clothes properlyno wrinkles, no losses.
Instead of *hello.* Lucy was stunned. A stranger casually rummaging through her underthings in her own home struck her as unbearably rude.
But answering rudeness with rudeness so early in the relationship felt wrong, so she endured it.
Goodness, those dark circles! Margaret clucked sympathetically. You ought to try cucumber masks. Or better yet, get your kidneys checked. My friend once
Lucy smiled and nodded, pretending interest in ailments of strangers while longing to crawl back into bed. It was eight on a Saturdayshed stayed up late, planning to sleep in.
No such luck.
Margarets visit stretched until evening. Lucy endured a torrent of criticism and advice on watering plants, scrubbing baths, and polishing silverwareeven got some practice in. She felt wrung out like a dishcloth.
Not once did Edward step in or hint they needed rest.
Is your mother always this lively? Lucy ventured that night.
She didnt mind family closeness, but some boundaries wouldve been nice.
Of course. She just wants to be friends, Edward shrugged. Emily and I used to live with herit was lively. Now shes lonely.
Were not living as a trio, I hope, Lucy sighed.
Whats the problem? You dont like my mother? Edward tensed. Emily got on with her perfectly.
Lucy stayed silent. Emily had been eight years younger, a people-pleaser. Of *course* they got on. Shed probably memorized Margarets friends names and diagnoses, ironed sheets perfectly, and baked pies to her exact recipes.
But Lucy hadnt signed up for that. Life had taught her that fewer meddlers in a couples business meant happier unions. Edward disagreed.
Mums very sociable. Gets on with anyone.
*Not everyone wants her to,* Lucy nearly said but held her tongue.
It got worse. Margaret returned the next morningearly againand inspected the fridge.
Chicken eggs? I only ever cooked quail for Edwardbetter for men, she announced. Shelves could be cleaner. You *eat* off these, Lucy.
*Not literally,* Lucy thought.
Ill clean them later, she said. We were hoping to rest today. It *is* the weekend
Edward, incidentally, was doing just thatsleeping soundly while Lucy entertained his mother.
Nonsense! Weekends are for cleaning and cooking, Margaret declared. Fetch the sponge. Next weekend, Ill teach you Edwards favourite meat pie. Youll love it!
Lucy froze, arms crossed. Running errands on command was the last straw.
Margaret, perhaps take my number? So you can call before visiting. I might have plans.
Call? I cant just visit my own son? Margarets face pinched in offense.
Of course you can. But your son lives with a woman now. Itd be nice if we all considered each other.
Emily never minded, Margaret sniffed.
Well, *my* exs mother never turned up at dawn, Lucy shot back. But she did bring cherry pies. Delicious. Want the recipe?
Margarets face darkened, forehead creasing. A spark of anger flashed in her eyes.
Lucy, think carefully. The nightingale wont outlast the lark in our family.
With that, she leftbut the bitterness lingered. Lucy didnt know what to do. Edward wouldnt listen, his mother treated their home as her own, and the ghost of Emily haunted every conversation.
*Emilys stuffed cabbage was better. Her mother taught her,* Edward might muse at dinner.
Then have *her* teach you, Lucy would retort.
She suspected Margaret would poison Edward against her but avoided the topic. She wanted it gone from her life.
The next month passed quietlyuntil it didnt. Another early-morning ring. This time, Lucy refused to answer.
Rude? Perhaps. But was it ruder to ignore clear hints and barge in uninvited?
Edward emerged minutes later, groggy and irritable.
Why didnt you open the door?
I dont want to! Guests should warn before visitingand keep their hands out of drawers, fridges, and cupboards.
What? Thats my *mother*!
Then greet her! But not in my house.
The row that followed probably reached the neighbours. Edward accused her of rejecting his motherand by extension, him. Margaret yelled through the door, demanding entry, ringing his phone.
Finally, Lucy issued an ultimatum.
Enough! Either you explain the word *guest* to your mother and send her home, or were through.
Edward chose the latter.
Lucy wasnt heartbroken. Theyd never marriedperhaps for the best. A man who idolized his ex and came with a meddling mother wasnt her idea of happiness.
Months later, a mutual friend shared unexpected news: Edward had a new love.
We work together. She moved in with him and his mother but already wants out. Asked to meet you, the friend laughed.
Oh? Why?
Well, according to Margaret, youre perfect. Beautiful, strong-willed, a brilliant cook.
We *are* talking about Margaret and *me*?
Guess she only likes the ones whove escaped Edward, the friend shrugged.
From then on, Lucy listened more carefully to others warnings. She kept her wits about her but didnt ignore gossip.
And she grew wary of men who compared her to exes and clung too tightly to their mothers.
Life with such heroes never worksbecause Mother always comes first. Perhaps thats right, but within *reason.* Dont you agree?
What do you think? Share your thoughts below.
