– Mum doesn’t want you visiting her anymore! She says you make her worry, – scolded John to his wife.
– Oh, I feel terrible, my boy, – sighed Margaret several times over the phone, waving her hands in front of her face. – I reckon I won’t be around much longer…
– Mum, stop with the nonsense, – John chided her.
He really disliked when she complained about her health. It only meant one thing: he’d have to drop everything and rush over.
– I’m on my way! – John announced sheepishly as he headed to his boss to ask for time off.
He suspected that Mr. Gordon might turn him down, but decided fortune favours the bold.
– You’ve got to be kidding me, Smith! – Mr. Gordon fumed. – If this is a weekly occurrence, either take her in or find yourself another job! Notice my little wordplay there, hah! But no, absolutely not!
Realising this was a lost cause, John reluctantly called his wife.
– Emma, can you sneak away from work? – he whispered pleadingly into the phone.
– Why?
– It’s Mum, something’s up again. Someone’s got to check on her…
– She’s fine. How many times has she called us over nothing? – Emma quickly reminded him.
– Of course, but you needn’t worry, she’s not your mother, right? – John chided his wife. – After Dad passed, I get really anxious about her…
– Fine, I’ll swing by. My lessons just ended, – replied Emma, who wasn’t thrilled at the idea of listening to her mother-in-law’s laments after dealing with her students all morning.
Margaret had performed this drama before. Just a few days ago, family had already called medics for her, who found nothing serious.
Fully expecting the same, Emma headed to her mother-in-law’s home.
Having her own keys, she quietly let herself in without knocking.
The hum of the TV halted mid-dialogue. Emma realised Margaret had heard her arrival.
– Is that you? Where’s my boy? – Margaret frowned.
Clearly disappointed it wasn’t John, she expected his sympathy and eagerness to attend to her.
Emma inquired about her health and took her vitals, which appeared normal for Margaret’s age.
– Everything’s fine, – Emma said calmly.
– No, it’s not! – Margaret retorted sulkily. – If John were here, he’d do something!
– Call an ambulance? – Emma suggested coolly.
– Yes! – grumbled Margaret, turning dramatically towards the wall.
Soon after, the medics arrived, baffled by the lack of any findings. Not long after they left, John bustled in, anxious and unsure how to appease his mother.
– Could use something tasty to eat, son, – Margaret mused wistfully.
Prompted, John dashed to the shop to buy her treats and nibbles.
– Oh, Emma dear, I didn’t get around to tidying up the kitchen. Felt too unwell, – Margaret moaned again. – I’d clean myself, but I’m too weak…
– I’ll wash up, – Emma replied in her usual calm tone, heading to the kitchen disaster zone.
Half an hour later, John returned with his offerings. Margaret visibly perked up, and after eating, she energetically got out of bed.
– What a wonderful job you’ve done, Emma, – Margaret exclaimed, beaming. – I don’t know what I’d do without you both.
Emma found herself pondering the repeated pattern. Just a week back it was the same: Margaret claimed she was sick, prompting their visit, the medics, snacks, and Emma’s cleaning.
Reflecting on it, Emma began suspecting Margaret was manipulating them.
She shared her thoughts with John, who bristled at the idea.
– She’d never yank me from work for no reason! – John was incensed, pacing feverishly.
– I’m telling you, it’s true! – Emma persisted. – Perhaps she’s lonely, coaxing attention, eating sumptuously and getting free cleaning.
– Nonsense, – John frowned. – You’re unjustly accusing her…
Seeing no point in arguing, Emma planned to teach Margaret a lesson.
She suspected it wouldn’t be long before Margaret would call John, who’d then reach out to her for help.
And right on schedule, a week later, Margaret stirred the storm, wailing about feeling terribly unwell.
With John tied up at work, Emma took charge. Predictably, nothing serious was found with Margaret.
– When’s my boy visiting? – Margaret asked tersely.
– He can’t today, work commitment, – Emma fibbed.
– What?! But I’m ill! – cried Margaret, squeezing out a solitary tear.
– All your indicators are normal, – Emma gently reminded. – Since you’re fine, I’ll be off too!
– You’re leaving? Aren’t you calling anyone? – Margaret protested.
– Why bother? You’re well, – Emma smiled sweetly.
The seemingly helpless Margaret instantly revived, glaring at Emma.
– At least tidy up, – she sneered. – You just popped in for nothing?
– Feeling better, are you? You can clean yourself then, – Emma blew her a cheeky kiss whilst adding, – And forget about those treats, – before exiting.
Emma barely reached home when John called, reprimanding her jokingly.
– Mum doesn’t want you visiting any longer! She claims you stress her out while she’s ill.
– Perfect! Works for me, – Emma chuckled, tired of scrubbing her mother-in-law’s place. – She’s upset because I didn’t clean.
Emma recounted her little stunt, shedding light on how Margaret suddenly seemed better once cleaning was refused.
This time, John didn’t counter. He grasped that his mother was indeed playing them.
– Call the doctor next time! – John irritatedly informed Margaret. – Work won’t let me off, and you’ve barred Emma. I can only drop by weekends.
– No need then, – replied an offended Margaret, ceasing her calls to John over trifles.
