“Oh, Madeleine, hello! Come to see your mother?” called the neighbour from her balcony.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Wilkins. Yes, to see Mum.”
“You might have a word with her,” the woman sighed. “Shes not been herself since the divorce, poor thing.”
“What do you mean?” Madeleine tensed.
“Ive trouble sleeping, wake up early. Saw her one morning, near five, stepping out of a cab. And she looked… well, lets say, not her usual self. A bit tipsy, perhaps. The whole streets talking. At her age! And why did she throw your father out? Yes, he slipped, but who hasnt? All those years togethermadness to divorce now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wilkins,” Madeleine said stiffly, swallowing hard. “Ill speak with her.”
With that, she hurried inside. Her mother had indeed sent her father packing six months prior, after catching him in an affair. Madeleine had begged her to reconsideranything could be mended. But her mother had stood firm. Strangest of all, she hadnt sunk into grief as one might expect. Instead, she thrivednew dresses, dancing, nights out with friends, all things shed never done before.
Madeleine struggled to accept it. She herself was soon to marry, planning children. And here was her motherout till dawn? What sort of grandmother would that be? How to explain to her future in-laws, when one knits blankets and the other dances in clubs?
When she entered, her mother met her with a teapot in hand and a bright smile. No worn dressing gown, but a smart beige suit. Manicured nails, styled lasheslife agreed with her.
“Well, hows Andrew?” she asked, setting the cups down.
“Alls well,” Madeleine replied, forcing calm into her voice. “But what about you?”
“Marvellous! Last night, the girls and I stayed out till morning. Danced, then karaoke. Such fun!”
“Mrs. Wilkins told me everything,” Madeleine said darkly. “That you came home at five, looking… well, drunk.”
Her mother laughed. “What did you expect? Sipping tea in a pub?”
Madeleine couldnt hold back. “Mum, dont you think this is a bit much?”
“How so?”
“Well, to put it gently, youre not twenty anymore. Whats all this dancing, these clubs? Youyou ought to set an example. Youll be a grandmother!”
“Im a woman whos finally free. I wont live by someone elses script.”
“But you lived all those years with Dad! How can you just move on?”
Her mother fell silent, then spoke, quiet but firm.
“Your father betrayed me. Not a slip, but a choice. And I wont play the drudge any longer. I mean to live. For myself. I gave years to family. Now I do as I please.”
“But youre nearly fifty!”
“So? Must I age like clockwork?”
Madeleine realised shed gone too far.
“Sorry, I didnt mean to upset you. I only care.”
“If I shame you, dont invite me to the wedding. But know thisI wont hide my grey under a scarf or wear shapeless frocks. Ill dance, maybe even flirt. Im happy.”
“No, Mum, I want you there. Its only…”
“Only Auntie Wilkins disapproves? Well, thats her affair. Im living at last.”
At home, she told her fiancé everything.
“I dont know how to feel.”
Andrew laughed. “I think your mothers splendid. Didnt crumblechose life. No crime in being happy.”
That weekend, Madeleine rang her mother.
“Mum, lets go to the spa, then a live music bar?”
“Wont I embarrass you?”
“Ill say youre my elder sister,” Madeleine chuckled.
“Then its settled. But mindwe shant leave early.”
That day marked a turn. For the first time, Madeleine saw the strength in her mother. And perhapsshe ought to learn from it. To be herself. Not to live “as one should,” but as one feels.
