Betty, have you completely lost your mind? Your only sons wedding is today and youre just sitting here sipping tea!
Lucy Vaughan stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyes blazing with righteous fury. Betty didnt even lift her head from the mug.
Sit down, youve already come. The kettles on.
Which tea? Lucy drifted to the kitchen, flopped onto the chair opposite. Its half past one. In an hour Andrew will be walking down the aisle, and youre still
Im not going anywhere, Betty said, taking a sip and looking out the window. Dont try to convince me.
Lucy fell silent, studying her friends face. Theyd been mates for forty years, since school, and Lucy knew Betty like the back of her hand. This, however, was unexpected.
Whats happened? she asked more gently. You two seemed to have patched things up after that argument.
Betty gave a wry smile.
They did patch up. He called two days ago and said, Come, mum, if you want. If you want! As if I was heading to a market stall rather than my own childs wedding.
Maybe he just meant it politely?
Lucy, Betty turned to her, tears glinting, Im fortynine. I raised him alone, no husband. Two jobs, two shifts, just to make sure he never wanted for anything. I taught him, nursed him, stayed up nights when he was sick. And now Im a burden to him. An extra.
Lucy reached across, covering Bettys hand.
Tell me everything, from the start.
Betty poured Lucy a fresh cup, fetched biscuits from the pantry, and sighed heavily.
It all began six months ago. Andrew brought home this Evelyn. Tall, slim, striking. At first I was pleasedfinally my son had a serious relationship; hes twentyseven now. I said, Come over, lets get to know each other, Ill cook dinner.
And?
She walked in, looked around the flat and you could see she wasnt thrilled. Our place is a modest twobedroom council flat in Croydonold furniture, wallpaper thats seen better days, but its clean. I spent the whole day tidying, baked a cake.
Lucy remembered that evening: Betty in her best blouse, hair done up, setting the table with the chipped china she inherited from her grandmother.
She perched on the edge of a chair like she didnt want to get dirty. Smiled, but her eyes were ice. I asked, What do you do, Evelyn? She answered, I work in marketing, managing projects. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, Your Andrew is very talented, shame hes still in a regular job.
Arrogant, Lucy snorted.
At first I didnt get it. Then I realised she was hinting that I hadnt helped my son reach his potential. And what could I do? Im a nurse in a local GP practice, earning peanuts. Andrew, though, finished university, works as a software developer, makes a decent salary, lives in a brandnew block. Im proud of him.
Of course you are, Lucy nodded. So what happened next?
We ate, we chatted. Evelyn kept talking about herselfhow successful she was, the projects she ran, how much she earned. Then she asked, Betty, have you ever thought about moving into a care home? They have good care and youd be with people your own age.
Lucy gasped.
Are you serious?
She swore it was a joke, but I felt my heart drop. Andrew stared at his plate, silent. I said, Im fortyeight, a care home? I still work, Im healthy. She smiled, Just thinking ahead, so I dont become a burden to you.
Betty rose and walked to the window. The spring sun shone brightly, May was in full swing. Somewhere, Andrew was getting ready, adjusting his tie, nervous as ever. And she was still there, tea in hand.
After dinner they left. Andrew gave me a hug and said, Dont mind it, Mum, Evelyn is just practical. Practical! As if she were a secondhand sofa that needed discarding.
And you kept quiet?
No, I called him later. Told him everything I thought. Asked, Is this your opinion or Evelyns? He got angry, accused me of being jealous, said I needed to learn to let go, that he was an adult and could decide who to live with.
Lucy shook her head.
Kids can be brutal, they dont understand.
We fought. He didnt call for a month. I thought Id lost my son forever. Then he showed up, asked forgiveness, said he loves me and Ill always be the most important person in his life. I believed him.
Betty returned to the table, finished the nowcold tea.
A month later they announced their engagement. Andrew called, all excited, Mum, were getting married! I congratulated him, asked when. He said, Soon, weve booked a restaurant, well meet on Saturday to sort the details.
And you went?
I did. Their flat was large and bright, fresh renovations, new furniture. Evelyn greeted me coldly, as if I were an inspector from the health board. She led me to the lounge, said, Have a seat. Not even a cup of tea.
Lucy clicked her tongue.
Rude.
They showed me the guest listseventy people. None of my friends. I asked, What about Lucy? Can she be invited? Andrew looked at Evelyn, said, Mum, we have limited seats, only close friends and colleagues. I kept quiet. Then they bragged about the banquet hall, the menueverything pricey and fancy. I sat there thinking, Wheres my place in all this?
A flock of sparrows swooped past the window, settling on an old poplar branch. When Andrew was a boy he used to toss crumbs to them from that very windowsill, laughing as they swarmed.
Then Evelyn said, Betty, we were thinking maybe you could help us with a loan for the wedding.
What? She asked you to take out a loan?
Exactly. I thought Id heard wrong. Are you serious? I earn thirtythousand pounds a year; no bank would give me a mortgage, let alone a wedding loan. And you both earn well enough already. She replied, Were saving for a bigger house in the centre, and traditionally the parents foot the bill.
Ive never seen such audacity, Lucy flushed with indignation.
I looked at Andrew, he was silent, eyes downcast. It hit mehe agreed with her. He thought I should fund their wedding, even though I wasnt even properly invited.
I refused, I said, Youre adults, you earn your own money. Ill help where I can, but I wont take a loan. Evelyn pursed her lips, Its selfish of you to deny us happiness.
What did Andrew say?
He stood, walked me to the door, said, Mum, dont be angry. Evelyn is used to her parents paying for everything. I asked, And you? He blinked, then said, Wed love a grand wedding but were short on cash. I could ask you for help.
Lucy poured more tea for both of us. We sat in silence. Such stories happen a lot when children marry, but when its yours, staying silent is impossible.
I left that day, walked the streets crying. My neighbour, Aunt Valerie from the flat above, called, Betty, why are you so upset? I told her everything. She laughed, Did you know Evelyn tells the whole block that youre a nagging mother, that youre holding them back?
No way!
She swore she heard Evelyn on the lift, complaining to a friend, My mother-inlaw is cheap and oldfashioned, its a shame to bring her to the wedding. She even said shed ask Andrew to see her less after the ceremony.
Betty covered her face with her hands, the memory painful. It hurt to realise the son shed raised was allowing someone else to speak of her that way.
I didnt call Andrew straight away. I waited, hoping hed come round and explain. A week passed, then a message: Mum, wedding is this Saturday. Invite coming soon.
He sent an invite?
An einvite, just a link and the restaurant address, no warm words, no phone call. I clicked it and thought, Hes not my son any more; hes her husband. Im just a duty he wants to dump.
Lucy sighed.
Maybe Evelyns influence is that strong? Maybe he isnt that bad?
Hes twentyseven, a grown man. If he wanted to protect his mother, he would have. He stays silent, sides with her. That must be convenient for him.
The neighbours TV blared, the street noise drifted in. The clock read half past two. Guests were probably gathering now, Evelyn in a white dress, Andrew nervous, and I
Did you ever tell him you wouldnt go?
I called yesterday. Andrew, I wont attend. He was silent, then asked why. I said, Because Im not wanted; Im a burden. He tried to reassure, We do want you, Mum, but his eyes said otherwise.
If you want, you repeated.
Exactly. It sounded like a polite dismissal.
So you stayed home?
I baked the scones Id made yesterday, just in case he stopped by for a snack. He never did.
Eat one, will you?
I placed the scone on the plate, watched Lucy.
Regret not going?
Of course. Id love to be there, see my boy walk down the aisle, cry happy tears, hug him, wish the newlyweds a long life. But the thought of being a reluctant guest, tolerated rather than welcomed, would have hurt even more.
Youve spent thirty years on him, missed meals, lost sleep, thinking hed grow up grateful.
Im not angry at him. It just hurts. I feel Ive lost my son, even though hes alive and well. The boy I raised has vanished, replaced by someone else.
Lucy stood, embraced her, tears finally spilling. Betty clung to her shoulder, sobbing quietly, mourning lost hopes and broken dreams.
Maybe itll get better, Lucy whispered, rubbing her back. Maybe hell see sense.
It wont, Betty replied, wiping her eyes. Evelyn wont change. Shell push him further away. I know that. Im not blind.
They lingered at the kitchen table, sipping lukewarm tea in silence. Lucy promised to drop by later. Betty was left alone in her empty flat, turned the TV on but couldnt watch. Memories of Andrew as a child flooded backhim bringing dandelions from the garden, drawing cards for Mothers Day, shouting Mum, I love you more than anything!
Where has that boy gone?
The phone rang sharply. It was Andrew. Betty stared at the screen, let it ring, then hung up. A text followed: Mum, why arent you answering? The weddings started, everyones asking where you are.
She read it, placed the phone down, typed back: Wishing you happiness. Take care of yourselves.
Another call came, she ignored it. She walked to the bedroom, lay down, the quiet pressing in her ears. Had she done the right thing? Should she have gone, for proprietys sake? No. Shed spent her life for othersAndrew, work, everyones approval. It was time to live for herself.
That evening Lucy phoned, How are you? Betty answered, Fine, just need some alone time. She hung up, tried to sleep, but the streets car horns and a distant dogs bark kept her awake. She wondered how things would go from here.
The next morning a knock sounded. She opened the door to find Andrew, suit rumpled, eyes ringred from lack of sleep.
May I come in? he asked quietly.
Betty stepped aside, let him in. He sat on the same chair Lucy had used yesterday. Betty put the kettle on, fetched two mugs.
You didnt come, Andrew finally said.
I didnt.
Why?
Betty looked at him, her son, grown yet so foreign.
Because I wasnt invited, because I realised Im no longer needed.
Mum, thats not true
You know it is. You chose Evelyn, thats your right. But dont pretend Im still part of your life if you dont want me to be.
Andrew covered his face with his hands.
Im ashamed, Mum. Im ashamed.
Betty placed the tea before him, sat opposite.
Yesterday, I stood at the altar and thought, Wheres my mother? Why isnt she here? The guests were there, but you werent. I realised Id let you be silenced while Evelyn badmouthed me. I put her wishes above yours.
Yes, Betty said. You did.
Im sorry, he choked out, tears sliding down his cheeks. I was an idiot, dazzled by a pretty dress, a fancy venue, and I hurt the most important person in my life.
Betty stayed silent, weighing whether to trust his words or see them as empty apologies.
I told Evelyn, If you dont start respecting my mother, Ill leave you. She broke down, ran to the bathroom, then came back apologising, promising to change. I dont know how sincere she is, but I made it clear: mum is sacred, no one may disrespect her.
Betty felt a warmth spread through her chest. Her boy was back, if only for a moment.
I want to make things right, Andrew reached across the table, clasped her hand. I want you in my life, I want us to see each other, I want you to know I love you, always have and always will.
Betty squeezed his hand.
I love you too, she whispered. It just hurt.
I know. Ill do everything I can so it doesnt hurt again.
They sat, hands intertwined, the old wounds easing a little. Scars would remain, trust would need rebuilding, but the fact that her son finally understood was a start.
Evelyn wants to talk, Andrew said. To apologise. Can she come in?
Betty thought. She didnt really want to see her, but if they were sincere
Let her in, she replied. Well see.
Andrews face lit up, he stood, gave Betty a fierce hug. She returned it, burying her face in his shoulder, feeling the boy shed raised again, even if hed stumbled.
Later, alone by the window, Betty felt lighter. Maybe things would improve. Maybe Evelyn would change. Maybe not. But she now knew she wasnt alone. She had a son who loved her and was ready to fight for her.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Lucy: Hows it going?
Betty smiled, typed back: Andrew showed up. Looks like things might get better.
Life is a funny thingpainful one day, joyful the next. The trick is not losing hope and remembering youre a person with rights, not a piece of someone elses plan.
Betty got up, went to the pantry, grabbed flour, eggs, sugar, and decided to bake a cake. If Andrew and Evelyn were to come over later, at least thered be something sweet on the table. Shed taken the first step toward reconciliation, and the rest would be up to time.
The important thing was she hadnt betrayed herself. She hadnt gone to a wedding that made her feel like a stranger. Shed stood her ground. Sometimes saying no to even those you love is essential, to remind them youre a human being with feelings of your own.
If this story rings a bell, if youve been through something similar, feel free to share your thoughts. And, of course, do give it a like and followthere are plenty more everyday tales to come.
