Gail, have you gone completely bonkers? Your only sons wedding is today, and youre just sitting here sipping tea!
Lucy Whitmore stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded, eyes flashing with righteous fury. Gail didnt even look up from her mug.
Sit down, youre here now. The kettles still on.
What tea? Lucy shuffled over, flopping into the chair opposite. Its half past one. In an hour your Adam will be under the veil, and youre still?
Im not going anywhere, Gail said, taking a sip and staring out the window. Dont try to convince me.
Lucy fell silent, studying her friends face. Theyd been pals for forty years, since school, and Lucy knew Gail like the back of her hand. But this this was unexpected.
What happened? she asked more gently. You two seemed to have made up after that argument, didnt you?
Gail smirked. We made up. He called two days ago and said, Come, mum, if you want. As if I were off to a market stall, not my own sons wedding.
Maybe he just meant it kindly?
Gail turned to Lucy, tears glinting. Lucy, Im fortynine. I raised him alone, no husband. Two jobs, so hed have everything. I taught him, nursed him, stayed up when he was sick. And now Im a burden, an extra weight.
Lucy reached out, covering Gails hand. Tell me everything from the beginning.
Gail poured Lucy a fresh brew, fetched some biscuits, and sighed heavily.
It started six months ago. Adam introduced Christina. Tall, slim, striking. I was thrilledfinally a proper relationship for my boy, whos twentyseven. I said, Come over, lets get to know each other, Ill cook dinner.
And Christina?
She walked in, looked around, and you could tell she wasnt impressed. Our flat is a modest twobedroom terraced house, furniture from the seventies, wallpaper thats seen better days. Still tidy, though. I spent the whole day cleaning, baked some scones.
Lucy remembered that evening: Gail in her best blouse, hair done, setting the table with the heirloom china.
Christina perched on the edge of a chair like she feared getting a stain. She smiled, but her eyes were ice. I asked what she does. Marketing, managing projects, she said, then added, Your Adam is talented, a shame hes still stuck in a deadend job.
Brash, Lucy snorted.
At first I thought she was just being cheeky. Then I realised she was implying Id never helped Adam grow. Im a nurse in the local health centre, barely scraping by. Adam, though, graduated from university, works as a programmer, earns a decent salary, lives in a new build. Im proud of him.
Of course you are, Lucy nodded. What happened next?
We were having dinner. Christina kept talking about her achievements, her projects, how much she makes. Then she asked, Gail, have you ever thought of moving into a care home? They have good support and plenty of people your age.
Lucys mouth fell open. Are you serious?
I was stunned. Adam just stared at his plate. I replied, Im fortyeight, a care home? Im healthy, I work. She smiled, Just thinking ahead, so I dont burden you.
Gail rose and went to the window. The sun was bright, May was in full swing. Somewhere, Adam was probably slipping into his suit, nerves buzzing. Meanwhile she was still here.
After that dinner they left. Adam gave me a hug and said, Dont mind me, Mum, Christinas just practical. Practical! Like she were a piece of furniture to be thrown out.
Did you say anything?
No, I called him later. Told him what I thought. He got angry, accused me of being jealous, told me to learn to let go because hes an adult who decides who he lives with.
Lucy shook her head. Kids can be savage. They dont get it.
We fell out. He didnt call for a month. I thought Id lost him forever. Then he turned up, apologised, said he loved me and Id always be the most important person to him. I believed him.
Gail sat back down, the tea long cold, but she drank it anyway.
A month later they announced an engagement. Adam rang, all excited: Mum, were getting married! I asked when. He said, Soon, weve already booked a restaurant. Come Saturday, well go over the details.
Did you go?
I did. Their flat was bright, freshly redecorated, new furniture. Christina greeted me like a health inspector, escorted me to the sitting room, didnt even offer tea.
Lucy clicked her tongue. Rude.
They showed me a guest listseventy people, none of my friends. I asked, What about my friend Lucy? Can she be invited? Adam looked at Christina, said, Mum, we only have space for close friends and colleagues. I kept quiet while they bragged about the pricey banquet hall and the fancy menu, wondering where I fit in.
Gail fell silent. A flock of sparrows swooped past the window, landing on an old poplar branch. Adam used to love feeding them breadcrumbs when he was a boy.
Then Christina said, Gail, we need to discuss something important. We were thinking maybe you could take out a loan for the wedding. Well chip in, but extra cash would help.
Lucy jumped up. She asked you to take a loan for THEIR wedding?
Yes. I thought Id misheard. I asked, Seriously? My salary is £30,000 a year, no one would give me a loan. And why should I, when you both earn well? She said they were saving for a bigger flat in the city centre and that usually the parents foot the bill.
Lucys face flushed. Ive never seen such cheek.
It hit me thenAdam was agreeing with her. He expected me to pay for a wedding I wasnt even properly invited to.
Gail paced the kitchen, trembling. I refused. I told them, Youre adults, you earn your own money. Ill help what I can, but I wont take a loan. Christina pursed her lips, called me selfish, said I was selfish about my sons happiness.
What did Adam say?
He stood, walked me to the door, said, Mum, dont be angry. Christina is used to her parents paying everything. I asked, And you? What do you think? He stammered, then said they wanted a lavish wedding but didnt have enough cash. I could help, he said.
Lucy poured another cup for herself and another for Gail. Both sat in silence. Stories like this happen a lot when children get married, but when its yours, staying quiet is hard.
I left and walked the streets, crying. My neighbour, Aunt Valerie from the flat above, called. Gail, why are you so upset? I told her everything. She said, You know Christina is gossiping around the block, saying youre a lazy mother, holding him back.
Dont be ridiculous!
Aunt Valerie swore she heard Christina on the lift complaining to a friend about how oldfashioned and poor I was, how embarrassed it would be to invite me to the wedding, and that shed try to see me less after the ceremony.
Gail covered her face with her hands, tears welling. It hurt to recall that the son shed raised was letting someone else trash her name.
I didnt call Adam right away. I waited, hoping hed come clean. Weeks passed, then a message: Mum, the weddings this Saturday. Invitation coming.
Did he send it?
An email with a link and the venue addressno warm words, no phone call. Just a click and a map. I realised then he was no longer my son; he was her husband, and I was just a duty to be shed.
Lucy sighed. Maybe Christina is the influence? Maybe Adam isnt that bad?
Hes twentyseven, a grown man. If he wanted to protect you, hed. But hes staying quiet, going along with her. So it must be convenient for him.
Outside, music drifted from a neighbours flat, the TV blared. Gail glanced at the clockhalf past two. Guests were probably gathering now. Christina, in a white dress, would be radiant, Adam nervous, and there she would beabsent.
Did you ever tell him you werent coming?
I called yesterday. Adam, I wont be at the wedding. He was silent, then asked why. I said, Because they dont want me. He tried to reassure, We do want you, Mum. I asked, Does Christina really want me there? He paused, then said, Come if you wish.
Lucy repeated, If you wish. The irony wasnt lost on either of them.
It felt like a polite trap. I didnt want to sit among strangers feeling like a burden, listening to Christinas condescending tone. So I stayed home, made some leftover piescabbage pies, my favouriteoffered one to Lucy. She took it but didnt eat. She asked, Dont you regret not going? Its a onceinalifetime thing.
Gail considered. Yes, I regret it. I wanted to be there, to watch my boy walk down the aisle, to hug him, to be happy for him. But it would have hurt more to be there and be treated like a guest of honour in name only.
Lucy, I spent thirty years putting my life on hold for himskipping meals, losing sleep, never taking a holidayso hed have everything. I thought hed be grateful, love me, look after me. Instead, hes decided Im a nuisance, that I belong in a care home. Let him live without me.
Are you angry at him?
No. It just hurts. I feel Ive lost my son. Hes alive, healthy, nearby, but the boy I raised is gone. Hes become a stranger.
Lucy rose, hugged Gail tightly. Tears finally spilled, quiet sobs for lost hopes and broken dreams, for a mother who never heard her sons gratitude.
Maybe things will improve, Lucy whispered, rubbing her back. Maybe hell see his mistake.
No, Gail pulled back, wiping her eyes. Christina isnt the type to change. Shell keep pulling him away from me. Hell have children, I wont be invited, Ill be left out. Im not blind, Lucy.
They sat in the kitchen, sipping the nowlukewarm tea in companionable silence. Eventually Lucy left, promising to check back later. Gail stayed alone in the empty flat, turned on the telly but couldnt watch. Thoughts of Adam as a child swirledhow he used to bring dandelions from the garden, draw cute cards for Mothers Day, shout, Mum, I love you more than anything!
Where was that boy now?
The phone rang abruptly. It was Adam. She stared at the screen, then hung up. A text followed: Mum, why arent you answering? The weddings already started. Everyones asking where you are. She read it, placed the phone on the table, typed a short reply: Wishing you happiness. Take care of yourself.
More messages buzzed, but she ignored them. She walked to her bedroom, lay on the bed, the quiet pressing in her ears. Had she made the right choice? Should she have gone for the sake of propriety?
No. Shed spent her whole life doing things for othersAdam, work, everyones satisfaction. It was time to live for herself.
That evening Lucy called again, asking how she was. Gail said she was fine, asked Lucy not to drop by, wanted some alone time. She went to bed early, but sleep eluded her. She lay in the dark, listening to traffic outside, a distant dog barking, pondering the future. How would she and Adam get along now? Would they ever?
Morning came with a knock at the door. Adam stood there, suit rumpled, eyes red from a sleepless night.
Can I come in? he asked softly.
Gail stepped aside. Adam shuffled into the kitchen, sat in the same chair Lucy had occupied yesterday. She put the kettle on, fetched mugs. Silence stretched.
You didnt come, Adam finally said.
No.
Why?
Gail looked at himher boy, now a man who felt foreign.
Because I wasnt wanted, she replied simply. Because I realised Im no longer needed.
Mom, thats not true
Dont. You know its true. You chose Christina, thats your right. But dont pretend I matter if you dont feel it.
Adam covered his face with his hands. Im ashamed, Mum. Im so ashamed.
Gail set a cup before him. Yesterday, I stood at the altar in my mind, wondering where my mother was. I realised it was my fault. I let you stay silent while Christina said terrible things. I put her wishes above yours.
Yes, Gail agreed. You did that.
Forgive me, he whispered, tears streaming. I was an idiot. I fell for the glamour, the status, the whole nonsense, and I hurt the most important person.
Gail stayed quiet, wondering whether to trust his words or see them as a quick fix.
I told Christina Id leave her if she didnt learn to respect you, Adam said, wiping his face. I told her that if she kept treating you like an afterthought, Id call it off right there at the wedding.
What? Gail gasped.
We argued. She asked where you were. I said you werent coming because shed been cruel. She threw a fit, ran to the restroom, then came back apologising, promising to change. I dont know how sincere she is, but I made it clear: mum is sacred, no one dares insult her.
Gail felt a warm glow in her chest. Her son, for a moment, was back.
I want to fix everything, Adam extended his hand across the table, gripping hers. I want you to be part of my life, my family. I love you, always have, always will.
Gail squeezed his hand. I love you too. It just hurt.
I know. Ill make sure it never hurts again. Promise.
They held each others hands, the old wounds easing a little. Scars would remain, trust would need rebuilding, but at least the son had finally seen his mother.
Christina wants to talk to you, Adam said. She wants to apologise. Can she come in?
Gail hesitated. She didnt really want to see her, but if they were truly trying to make peace, maybe she should give it a chance.
Let her in, she said. Well see.
Adam smiled, the first genuine smile in weeks. He stood, embraced his mother tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. Gail returned the hug, feeling the boy shed raised pulse against her chest once more.
Later, she sat by the window, watching the street below. The weight on her shoulders lightened. Maybe things would indeed improve. Maybe Christina would change. Or maybe not. But Gail now knew she wasnt alone. She had a son who loved her and was willing to fight for her.
Her phone buzzed: a message from Lucy: How are you holding up?
Gail smiled, typed back: Adam stopped by. Looks like theres hope.
Life, she thought, is a funny thingpainful one day, joyful the next. The key is not losing hope and remembering that even in the darkest moments theres a way out, sometimes in places you never expected.
She walked back to the kitchen, fetched flour, eggs, sugar, and decided to bake a Victoria sponge. Tonight Adam and Christina would be over; shed need something sweet to offer. The wounds werent fully healed, but the first step toward reconciliation was taken. From now on, shed remember to say no when needed, to protect her own dignity. She wasnt a piece of furniture; she was a person with feelings and a right to respect.
If youve ever been through something similar, let us know. It helps to hear youre not alone.
