**Diary Entry**
Jonathan married at twenty-four. His wife, Eleanor, was twenty-twoan only child, born late to a university lecturer and a schoolteacher. Soon after the wedding, they had two boys in quick succession, followed by a daughter.
His mother-in-law, Margaret, retired early to care for the grandchildren. Their relationship was oddJonathan always addressed her formally as Margaret Elizabeth, while she replied with a restrained Mr. Turner. Polite, yes, but there was a chill between them. Still, she never interfered, never picked fights, and stayed firmly neutral in his marriage.
A month ago, Jonathans firm went under, and he was let go. Over supper, Eleanor remarked, We cant live on Mums pension and my wages forever, Jon. You need a job.
Easy to sayfind a job! Thirty days of pounding the pavement, and nothing! Frustrated, he kicked an empty beer can. Thank God Margaret hadnt said a word, but her pointed looks spoke volumes.
Before the wedding, hed overheard a conversation between mother and daughter.
Ellie, are you sure hes the one you want to spend your life with?
Mum, of course!
You dont grasp the responsibility. If your father were alive
Oh, Mum, stop! We love each otheritll work out!
And children? Can he provide?
He will!
Its not too late to reconsider, love. His family
Mum, I love him!
Well, dont come crying to me later.
Now here he wasbiting his elbow, just as shed warned.
He couldnt face going home. Eleanors forced optimismDont worry, tomorrows another chance!Margarets silent disapproval, the childrens mocking, Dad, got a job yet? He couldnt bear another evening of it.
He wandered the riverside, sat on a park bench, and near midnight, drove to the cottage where the family stayed from May till autumn. A single light glowedMargarets bedroom. Creeping up the path, he stumbled onto a tree stump just as the curtain twitched.
Margaret peered out. Jonathans late. Have you rung him, Ellie?
Yes. Phones off. Probably job-hunting againor sulking somewhere.
Her voice turned to ice. Never speak of your husband like that.
Oh, Mum, honestly! Jons just loafing abouta whole month on my back!
For the first time in six years, Jonathan heard Margaret slam her fist on the table. Enough! What did you vow when you married him? For better or worseto stand by him!
Eleanor faltered. Mum, Im sorry. Just tired, thats all.
Go to bed, Margaret sighed.
The light went out. Jonathan heard her pacing, then the curtain shifted again. She gazed into the dark, then lifted her eyes heavenward and crossed herself.
Dear Lord, she whispered, tears falling, protect my son-in-law, the father of my grandchildren. Dont let him lose heart. Help him, Lordmy dear boy.
Jonathans chest burned. No one had ever prayed for himnot his stern mother, whod buried herself in council work, nor his absent father, whod vanished when he was five. Hed grown up in nurseries, schools, after-care. At university, hed worked straight awayhis mother despised idleness.
The heat spread, rising until tears pricked his eyes. He remembered Margaret rising at dawn to bake his favourite scones, simmer rich stews, make pasties so perfect they were nearly divine. She tended the garden, preserved jams, pickled cucumbersall while caring for the children.
Why had he never thanked her? Theyd just worked, raised kids, assumed it was how things should be. Once, watching a documentary on Australia, shed sighed, Ive always wanted to see it. Hed joked, Too hot for an ice queen like you.
He sat there a long time, head in hands.
At breakfast the next morning, the table was ladenscones, jam, tea. The children beamed. Jonathan met Margarets eyes and softly said, Good morning, Mum.
She startled, then smiled. Good morning, Jon.
Two weeks later, he found work. A year after that, he sent Margaret to Australia, despite her protests.
Funny, how the quietest love speaks loudest when you finally listen.
