Mom, could you look after Max today? Poppy asked, her voice sounding like a weary kettle. Ive got to dash to the office theres a batch of documents I need to pick up.
Olivia flipped a page in her planner. Poppy, Ive got a meeting with the editor at seven this evening, she said. Im sorry, I cant.
Come on, Mum, youre always swamped! Its your grandson, isnt it? Are you really putting work before family? Poppy pressed, a hint of guilt in her tone.
Olivia pursed her lips. Manipulation through guiltagain.
Poppy, I warned you that having a baby with someone you barely know was premature, Olivia reminded, her voice flat. You chose that path, and youre now responsible for it.
Right, so you dont care about me or the baby, Poppy snapped, the chill in her words unmistakable. Thanks for the support.
She hung up.
Olivia had just turned fiftytwo and finally felt she could exhale. A divorce had turned her world upsidedown fifteen years earlier. Shed raised two daughters on a single salary, juggling two jobs while denying herself any pleasure. Five years ago, Michael entered her lifea steady, dependable man who accepted her baggage without demanding miracles.
The girls grew up, earned degrees, and bought property. With Michael, Olivia helped Poppy secure a onebed flat, and Milly a studio in a new development. Olivia landed a respectable editorial post, signed up for Italian lessons, and started putting away pounds for the dream trip to Italy.
But at twentythree Poppy married the first bloke who said yes. Six months later she gave birth. Olivia had warned her against rashness, but Poppy ignored the advice. Now her husband Jack proved to be an unreliable sort, turning up for work only intermittently and bringing home money only occasionally. Poppy was torn between a newborn and a string of odd jobs, trying desperately to stretch the budget.
Since then Olivias phone had been a constant buzz of Poppys calls.
Olivia pressed her forehead to the cool windowpane, sighing at the endless demand to sacrifice herself. Poppy hinted at moving back in with her parents, claiming it would be easier for everyone, especially the baby. Olivia refused, citing her own life, work and plans. Poppy pouted, tears streaming into the handset about her lost youth.
A week later, more thrilling news arrived.
Milly, barely out of university at twenty, announced she was pregnant. The father? A lad shed been dating for just three monthsa courier who rented a room in a shared house and had no prospects. She burst into the living room, beaming.
Mom, guess what? Jack and I are going to be parents! Milly shouted, flopping onto the sofa. Were having a baby! Isnt that brilliant?
Olivia looked at her daughter, irritation ticking up. Same story as with Poppy.
Milly, have you and Jack thought about how youll raise the child? Where will you live? A studio with a baby? How will you afford everything? Olivia asked calmly.
Milly fidgeted with the cuff of her jumper. Well, Jacks got a spare room Well figure something out. Mom, youll help us, right? Well need you.
Olivia set her tea cup down a little harder than intended.
No, Milly. You have the right to have a baby, Im not opposed to that. But Im not going to bankroll a young family. The flat is yours, everything I could give you has already been given. Now youll have to manage on your own.
Milly leapt up, eyes brimming with tears. How can you say that? Youre heartless! Im your daughter! The baby will be your grandchild!
Olivia replied, Exactly why Im being honest. Youre adults. Youve finished university, Jack works. If youve decided to have a child, you must shoulder the responsibility yourselves. Ive done my part. I have my own life, my own plans.
What plans? Milly shrieked, snatching her bag. What could be more important than family? Youre selfish!
The sisters stormed out, leaving Olivia standing in the hallway, eyes shut against the flood of accusations in the family group chat. Poppy typed long messages about how hard it was for her, how a mother should always be there. Milly chimed in, lamenting that shed never expected her mum to be so cold.
Michael tried to soothe things, hugging Olivia in the evenings, doing what he could. Yet the tension grew. Poppy started turning up unannounced with the baby, pushing the pram into the flat and slipping out after a few hours: Mum, Ill be back in a bit, look after Max.
Olivia tried to protest, but Poppy was already hurrying down the stairs. Michael frowned but said nothing. Milly called, sobbing, pleading for moral support, complaining that Jack didnt understand her, that money was tight, that she felt lost.
Olivia felt cornered, as if she were an endless well being drawn from without refill.
Saturday evening was meant to be quietOlivia and Michael had planned a movie and to iron out the final details of their Italian trip. A sharp knock at the door interrupted them.
Michael opened it. Poppy stood there, suitcase in hand, Max dangling from her arms. Behind her, Milly followed, eyes red from crying.
Were moving in with you for a while, Poppy announced, not bothering with pleasantries, and hauled the suitcase inside. Serge will bring the rest of the furniture later. Well rent out my flat to bring in some cash, so I can spend more time with Max while I work.
What? Olivia froze in the hallway. Poppy, what are you saying? We never discussed this.
Discuss what? Poppy retorted. Youre my mum; youre supposed to help. Who else will?
Milly squeezed in. Mum, I need money for a cot. We have nothing. Jack earns peanuts, I cant give up my maternity leave, I need to work.
Olivia felt something inside her snap. All the months of fatigue, irritation and bruised pride spilled out.
No, she snapped, stepping forward. Poppy, pack your things and go home. Milly, there will be no money. End of story.
Both daughters froze, staring at her.
Youre serious? Poppy asked, cradling a weeping Max. Are you kidding me?
Absolutely, Olivia said, crossing her arms. I raised you, gave you education, bought you flats. Its time you flew the nest and built your own lives, not hang them on mine.
How can you say that? Milly shrieked. Were your daughters! Your blood!
I can because Im telling the truth. Youre adults. You chose your partners, you chose to have children. I warned you, I advised, you ignored me. Thats your responsibility.
Poppy shifted Max to her other arm, her face a mix of anger and disbelief. Youre throwing us out? With a baby?
Im not throwing you out. You have a house, Olivia replied evenly. And you have a husband, Jack. Sort your problems out yourselves.
Youre a heartless selfish witch! Milly yelled, stamping her foot. All you think about is Italy!
Yes, Italy is on my mind, Olivia said calmly. My plans, my life. I spent twenty years living for you. What else do you want? Me to babysit you until Im six feet under?
The sisters exchanged a glance. Poppy grabbed her suitcase, turned, and marched toward the door. Milly followed. Olivia heard their footsteps echo down the stairs, their voices a tangled mix of contempt and hurt.
For a week there was radio silence. Michael told her shed done the right thing. Inside, Olivia felt a knot of anxietyhad she been too harsh?
Later she learned Poppy had indeed sold her flat and moved in with Jacks parents, a cramped twobedroom where she was nagged over every little chore. The motherinlaw ran the household the way she saw fit; the fatherinlaw muttered about lazy youngsters.
Millys situation came to light through a neighbour. Shed been sobbing on the bench outside the block when Jack fled, taking his things and disappearing. She was left pregnant, penniless, and alone.
Olivia stood in her kitchen, torn between sympathy and the resolve shed set for herself. Shed given her daughters a starteducation, a roof, love. How they used it was no longer her problem.
The phones started ringing again. Poppy complained about the inlaws, about being unable to cope. Milly wailed that she was completely on her own. Olivia listened, sympathised, but offered only advice, never money.
The daughters wanted more than counselthey wanted Olivia to solve everything, to open her home, to hand over cash. Each time Olivia refused.
She and Michael booked three weeks in Italya longawaited escape, postponed so many times. Before departure she called the girls, her tone steady.
Are you serious? Poppy asked, baffled. What about us?
Youre adults; youll manage, Olivia replied, eyes on the suitcase by the door. When you learn to solve your own problems and stop treating me as a freewheeling nanny and ATM, Ill be happy to talk as equals. Until then, grow up.
Youre abandoning us? Milly whispered.
Im not abandoning you. You have the right to make mistakes. I have the right not to foot the bill for yours. Ill always be your mother, but I wont sacrifice myself for adult childrens reckless choices.
Michael waited by the car. Olivia lowered herself into the passenger seat, inhaling a deep, liberating breath. Shed finally decided to stop letting guilt gnaw at her. Shed given her children a solid foundationeducation, a roof, love. Shed offered advice, but theyd ignored it. Her mission was complete. It was time to think of herself.
She imagined strolling through Roman alleys, wandering Florentine galleries, gliding along Venetian canals. Freedom, finally earned. Everything was looking rather brilliant.
