Why arent you opening the door? I ask.
Im not. Im not going to. Guests should give a headsup before they turn up, and they certainly shouldnt be rummaging through cupboards, the fridge or the wardrobes.
You mean you wont? he snaps. Shes my mother! Shes here to see me!
Fine, welcome her just not in my flat.
Olivia always seemed to get along with my mum.
Honestly, if I start listing everything my ex does better than you, well both feel embarrassed.
Im not sure about myself, Harriet stammers, rubbing the kitchen table. If you and Olivia were that happy, why did you break up with her?
Ethan turns away, a dark look in his eyes.
You know the whole story
I know. So spare me the Viviantalk, Harriet cuts in. Otherwise Ill be your next ex.
Harriet is already teetering on the brink of a drastic move.
She met Victor Clarke at a mutual friends party almost a year ago. She also knew the same Olivia, though they werent close. Olivia brought Ethan along, and a few months later she vanished from everyones radar.
One night, a drunk Ethan confessed that hed split from Olivia after catching her cheating. He even shed a tear.
Harriet found that oddly touching: a man unafraid to show his feelings, who values love. Something clicked, and she wanted to comfort him.
She realised the something was more of a motherinstinct than a romantic spark, but it was enough to get them together.
At first everything feels perfect. He picks her up after work, drives her home, sends sweet texts every day, asks if shes keeping warm. Harriet feels swaddled in his care.
She first grows uneasy when Olivia texts her.
Hey, I heard youre dating Victor. Thats none of my business, but be gentle with him. Hes got a sticky, inseparable duo with his mum.
Harriet notes it but shrugs it off. Love isnt supposed to be derailed by little hurdles. After all, if Victors had a mess with one woman, it doesnt mean itll repeat with another.
Hi. I think well sort this ourselves. Thanks for the warning, though, Harriet replies.
She doesnt want the conversation to drag on; it feels rude to Victor.
Victor, however, doesnt mind her comfort at all.
When his mother, Margaret Reed, first drops by unannounced, Harriet stays oddly calm. Perhaps they both fail to grasp how intrusive it feels. Margaret likely worries about her son and wants to see who he lives with.
Harriet tells Ethan to greet his mum, throws on a hastily tiedup dress, pulls her hair into a messy bun and, still halfasleep with bags under her eyes, heads to meet the prospective motherinlaw. Shes already poking around the sideboard in the lounge.
Ah, everythings a bit of a scramble, Margaret says with a patronising smile. And soon your socks will be mismatched. Harriet, lets have breakfast and Ill teach you to fold laundry so nothing gets ruined or lost.
That replaces a polite hello. Saying Harriet is flustered would be saying nothing at all. The fact that a stranger rummages through her underwear in her own house feels downright rude.
But replying with rudeness right at the start of a relationship feels wrong, so Harriet bites her tongue.
Oh, dear, you look exhausted, Margaret coos. You need cucumberwater face masks. Better yet, lets check your kidneys. I have a friend who
Harriet forces a smile, nods, and pretends shes fascinated by strangers ailments while she wishes she could drift back to bed. Its only eight oclock in the morning; she stayed up late the night before, hoping a weekend liein would catch up on sleep.
She drifts off.
Margarets visit stretches into the evening. Harriet endures a torrent of criticism and wellmeaning advice about watering plants, cleaning the bathtub and polishing spoons. She even manages a little practice. She feels squeezed like a lemon. Throughout it all, Ethan never offers to help or even hint to his mother that theyd like a break.
Is your mum always this active? Harriet asks cautiously before bedtime.
She isnt opposed to a big family, but she does crave some distance.
Yeah, shes just keen to make friends, Ethan shrugs. We used to live with Olivias mum; it was cosy. Now shes bored on her own.
Harriet sighs, I hope we wont end up threeinone
Whats the problem? Youre against my mum? Ethan snaps. She and Olivia got along fine.
Harriet stays silent. Olivia is eight years younger, always keen to ingratiate herself. Of course they were friends. Margaret probably knows every name and diagnosis of her circle, irons sheets to perfection and bakes pies from her motherinlaws recipes.
Harriet isnt signing up for that kind of happiness. Shes learned that the fewer outsiders meddle in a couples affairs, the better, though Ethan sees it differently.
My mum is very sociable. She finds common ground with anyone.
Only not everyone will be thrilled about that, Harriet thinks, but says nothing.
The next day Margaret is back at the crack of dawn, this time inspecting the fridge.
Chicken eggs? I only ever make Victor quail eggs; theyre healthier for men, she declares, looking important. Your shelves arent exactly spotless youll be eating off them later. Harriet, you should clean them.
Harriet thinks, I dont eat straight off the shelves.
Fine, Ill clean them, Margaret Reed, she promises. We wanted a lazy Sunday, but its a Saturday
Ethan, by the way, spends the day sleeping while Harriet is forced to entertain his mother.
Exactly! A weekend is for cooking and cleaning, Margaret insists. Grab a sponge and a cloth. Next weekend Ill teach you Victors favourite meat pie. Youll lick your fingers clean!
Harriet freezes, arms crossed over her chest. Shes not ready for a second day of someone elses instructions.
Margaret, could you maybe write down my number? So you can call before you pop over. I have plans for the next weekend too.
Call? I cant visit my sons house any more? Margaret looks hurt.
Of course you can. Its just that your son now lives with a partner. Itd be nice if we all respected each others space.
We never had that problem with Olivia, Margaret mutters, smiling thinly.
Well, my exs mum didnt bother me early in the morning either, Harriet shoots back. She used to bring cherry pies. Want the recipe?
Margarets face tightens, a crease deepening on her forehead, a flash of anger in her eyes.
Harriet, think carefully. Our family doesnt change its nightly routine for anyone.
Margaret leaves, but a sour feeling lingers with Harriet. She doesnt know what to do. Ethan doesnt hear her; his mother treats the flat like her own home. And the ghost of Olivia hovers over everything.
Olivias cabbage rolls were better her mum taught her, Ethan might blurt out over dinner.
Maybe youll learn from me too, and youll cook for me, Harriet replies, suspecting Margaret is trying to steer her son, but she doesnt want to discuss it. She just wants the subject gone.
The next month passes quietly, free of surprise visits, until the phone rings again. This time Harriet decides firmly not to answer.
Is it wrong? Maybe. But it isnt right to keep letting strangers barge into her home unannounced after a polite warning.
Within five minutes, Ethan appears in the hallway, blearyeyed and irritable.
Why arent you opening the door?
I dont want to! I wont. Guests should give notice before they turn up, and they shouldnt be climbing into cupboards, the fridge or the wardrobes.
You mean you wont let her in? Shes my mother! Shes here to see me!
Then meet her elsewhere. Not in my flat.
Ethans outburst is loud enough for the neighbours to hear. He accuses Harriet of rejecting his mother, and therefore him. Margaret shouts from the front door, demanding to be let in, phone ringing nonstop.
In the end Harriet delivers an ultimatum.
Enough! Either you send your mum packing now, explain to her what a guest is and send her home, or we break up!
Ethan chooses the latter.
Harriet isnt devastated. They never even got to finish splitting up properly. Perhaps its for the best; she never wanted a partner who came with a catalogue of exstories and a meddling mother.
A few months later Harriet hears unexpected news: Ethan has a new lover. Their mutual friend from the same old party tells her,
We work together now. Shes moved in with him and his mum, but she wants out. She asked me to introduce you.
Harriet laughs, And why would she do that?
The mum says youre just perfect beautiful, strongwilled, and a great cook.
Harriet rolls her eyes, Are we really talking about Ethans mum and me now?
The mum seems to think anyone whos not living with Ethan is suddenly a saint, the friend shrugs.
Since then Harriet pays attention to gossip but keeps her own head. She doesnt swallow every rumor, yet she doesnt ignore them completely. She also remains wary of men who constantly bring up exes and cling to their mothers.
A macho who lets his mum dominate will never have a smooth life. A mother can be important, but only within sensible limits. Do you agree? Let me know in the comments and give a like.
