Happy birthday, lovetoday you turn thirtytwo! I mean it from the bottom of my heart, and heres a little something Ive knitted at my craft class, Margaret Hughes, mother of Poppy, says, pushing a pair of bright red knitted booties across the table. Poppy blinks, eyes widening at her mothers grin.
Yes, love, youre thirtytwo now. Its time to think about starting a family. Im not getting any younger, and neither are you. Id love to dote on some grandchildren. My friends already have greatgrandchildren on the way, and Im just an old lady without any.
Poppys cheeks flush. A heavy silence falls over the small gatheringtwo of Margarets friends and three neighbours stare at the two of them.
Excuse me, I need to lie down; Im feeling faint, Poppy croaks, slipping from her seat before anyone can see the tears welling in her eyes. It hurts a young woman to hear her own mother constantly ticking the clock of time.
She thinks, Whats the point of having kids when the only caretaker would be a pensioner? I dont even have a candidate for a father, let alone anyone willing to tie the knot.
Oh dear, what am I to do? If you had a son, perhaps youd be settled. All the girls are being married off. Its a proper oldfashioned village! Margaret sighs, lamenting.
Poppy lives with her mother in a modest twobedroom council flat in a small market town. Shes never had a serious relationship; marriage feels like something out of a romance novel. She works at the post office, hauling parcels, sending out letters, and sitting at a computer to process shipments. The job aches her back so badly that she comes home almost drained. All she wants is a simple meal, then to flop on the sofa, close her eyes, and stop thinking.
Look at you, sprawling again. Come to the poetry night with me! Youre beautiful, why are you lying there like a seal? Maybe well find you a man, Margaret chides, watching Poppy lounge on a cushion.
Leave me alone, Mum! Im trying to rest, Poppy snaps.
Margaret, unlike her daughter, is a whirlwind. Though shes in her seventies, she fills her days with concerts at the community centre, trips to the county town for activist meetings, and gatherings with other retirees where she recites her own poems. Shes always on the go, preaching the importance of helping others and staying busy. Her energy could easily have powered a grandchilds upbringingsomething Poppy sorely lacks.
Undeterred, Margaret keeps waving the red booties in front of Poppy, a constant reminder.
Enough with the shaking, Mum. Its like waving a red flag at a bull! Poppy hisses.
Poppy, darling, listen to me youre an adult now, think about children! Id love to see my own grandchildren before Im gone.
Im not sure I want to think about that at all. My job is hard, the pay is low, my back hurts, and honestly were cramped as it is. How could I raise kids? Poppy mutters. Thank heavens the day is over!
Yes, exactly, Margaret sighs, but you could live a little differently. Not just work and sofa. I was just at Susan Fletchers; her granddaughter is bright as a button
I get it, Mum! Poppy replies sharply. But I cant just get pregnant because you want grandchildren. Id need to marry, and as you see, there are no suitors. There was Tom once, but you sent him away!
Poppy remembers a time when James, a goodlooking lad with a solid family, courted her. Margaret promptly shut that door, saying, Stay home, dont go romancing strangers!
So Poppy stays single. Later, James dates Poppys only friend, who isnt as picky. Six months ago she gave James a third child. Theyre happy, no one lies on the sofa, no pieeating while drowning sorrows in tea with four teaspoons of sugar.
James youve been on my mind, Margaret coos, but there are other men out there, you just have to get out of the house.
Shouldve gone out earlier, Mum! When I wanted to study in the city, you told me I couldnt stay alone, that the town was full of cheats. You forced me into a technical college for a trade you chose, insisting technicians are always needed. I hated physics and nearly dropped out after the second year!
You just didnt try hard enough, Margaret retorts.
Better theyd kicked me out! You sent me to the most unwanted course just to fill a class. Why waste time on electrical engineering? Who needs that at the post office?
The post office is a stable job, always work, close to home, you can pop in for lunch. Isnt that nice? Margaret argues.
Mum! For some people that might be the dream, but it isnt mine.
Youll have kids one day, youll see.
No, Mum. I wont have children if I cant give them a decent life. I dont want my own daughter to end up stuck in a job she hates, counting down to retirement.
Margaret watches her daughter, heart heavy, not grasping the exact moment Poppys bright spirit turned to weary resignation.
Ive tried so hard to give you a better life, to keep you from want. And this is your thanks? You dont even want to give me grandchildren! she exclaims.
Mum, why not get a job yourself? Youre full of energy, maybe try babysitting? With that money we could even go to the coast. Ive never left this town beyond the post office, maybe I could see the world beyond the road to the post office.
Margaret shakes her head. Where would I go?
Even to Jamess house! Theyve got money and kids. Go have a look!
To Jamess? Margaret sighs, God help me, Ill never go there. Theyd never take an old lady.
Give it a try. They wont charge you for work, Poppy says, knowing her mother will never accept a job with James after having blocked him once.
Time passes. Margaret stops waving the booties, focusing on her own community activities. At a senior womens meeting in the county centre, the topic of youth family problems comes up. She, without thinking why, begins to complain to strangers about her daughter living without ambition, doing nothing.
So I raised a weed. Now Im reaping the harvest she mutters bitterly.
What you sow, you reap! What did you give your daughter besides advice? A flat? A good education? Help with her love life? a newcomer asks.
I cant help her, I was left alone when my husband walked out after learning I was pregnant. I did everything on my own! Margaret retorts.
Then why have children if you cant provide? You shouldnt have become a mother if you werent ready. Now you want Poppy to repeat your fateno father, no own home, living on a postmans wage. Bravo, mother of the year! the stranger snaps.
The words sting Margaret. She fumes, then quietly leaves the tea after the meeting. The rest of the evening she feels unsettled, recalling all the rules she imposed: no riding horses on the farm, no dating James because hes unreliable, dictating what to wear, forbidding nights out with friends because drunk men are everywhere, banning her from studying the subject she loves in the city, claiming its dangerous and shed abandon her mother. All these moments have smothered Poppys will, pruning away dreams.
Margaret sighs, realizing she built this life for Poppy, a life without room for aspirations. She decides something must change, and soon.
The next day she visits the neighbour who knows Jamess wife and learns they need a nanny.
They said they need help with their third child. Are you looking for work? the neighbour asks.
I am. If theyll take me, Ill be glad.
Margaret lands the job. Its hard but she loves itthree little ones, a decent wage, and a sense of purpose.
Poppy, hearing that Mum has a job, feels surprised and relieved. Mum no longer pesters her with constant questions; she comes home exhausted and goes straight to bed. Within months Margaret earns enough to fund a holiday for Poppy. When the time comes to buy travel vouchers, Margaret thinks it over and buys just onefor Poppys birthday.
Darling, youre thirtythree today! I wish you a wonderful year ahead. Heres a getaway, go see the world, meet new people. Youve always been there for me, now its your turn.
Poppy looks at the ticket, stands from the table, and gives Margaret a tight hug.
Thank you, Mum. Ill go and enjoy it. Life truly is just beginning, and I have everything ahead of me.
Poppy returns from her break refreshed, decides she no longer wants to be a stagnant plant, and enrolls in accounting. Her first clients are James and his wife, who become friendly. Word spreads, and other local entrepreneurs ask for her services. She builds a thriving bookkeeping business, earning enough to travel and live comfortablyfar beyond what she ever imagined while sorting parcels.
Three years later Poppy meets David. They adopt a baby from a childrens home, and a year after that Poppy discovers shes pregnant. A late child? Let them talk, she thinks. She knows her life still has chapters ahead, and she no longer listens to anyone elses expectations. Everything falls into place, and Margarets own dream finally materialisesshe becomes a happy grandmother to two grandchildren.
