My Mother-in-law’s Plan
Look, my friends, I didn’t choose to be old, it just happened. But convincing my mother-in-law, that’s a different tangle of wool. One I won’t bother to unravel.
What? You want to hear it?
Okay, quick, before Jenny gets here.
Those who love me, insist they are the lucky ones, having me around so long, and it’s then I get to listen to the story about the cat with nine lives thing.
However, that’s not quite the attitude of my mother-in-law.
“…too many good folks don’t see old age,” she says, lying in her bed with tubes coming out of every orifice, “and you’re one who doesn’t deserve it.”
That’s the problem with mothers-in-law, they tell the damn truth.
“Who you talking to, honey?”
Damn! Sorry about this, Jenny was quick preparing lunch. I just reached one 1.3k followers. I’m glad you thirteen came by. Just stay quiet, hunch down, and listen to the conversation, I’ll try to lead it where it needs to go. drop down behind that hedge. Pssst, Dennett, take your damn hat off, I can see it above the hedgerow. Okay, good.
“I was just thinking your mother doesn’t believe I deserve old age, honey.”
Jenny stops in the middle of preparing our garden table, “when did you last concern yourself with what my mother said?”
Okay, so I didn’t have to think long about Jenny’s question, though I do not think it was intended that way.
“It was the day after we secretly married in Reno, trying to speed up the green card.”
Jenny dropped the knife onto the ham salad crusty sandwich and pulled it toward her.
“I don’t remember, what did she say?”
I pulled my chair away from the table, sat and unscrewed the lid off the Branston pickle. “It was more a statement regarding my birthright, I recall, and she swore on her heart she’d outlive me just to spit on my grave.”
Jenny took the Branston from me.
“Do you want a piece of cheddar?”
I nodded, my mouth full sandwich.
“Anyway, you won her over long ago. She loves you.”
“Yeh, and Judas Iscariot loved Jesus.”
Jenny held the knife over a slab of cheddar. “This much?”
“Inch more. Perfect, thank you.”
“You’re being a little over dramatic, Harry. Our marriage was quite a shock to her system. You were taking me away to Scotland. That must have been hard on her.”
God, I love cheddar with Branston.
“Jenny, you are the fifth of five daughters. Give me a break!”
“But the first married.”
“Because she had four witches before you.”
“Is that necessary? They’re still my sisters.”
“They don’t visit you. Never been anywhere close. Too busy sitting next to their boiling cauldrons.”
Jenny lifts the teapot with her left hand.
“More tea?”
“It’s only because they haven’t yet concocted a poison quick enough for their evil perfection. When they have, they’ll turn up in their Fresno hillbilly fucking truck drinking root beer.”
Jenny set the teapot down, with a bone china chink.
“I know it’s difficult, love, but we promised to cut down on bad language at the table.”
“Yeh, we did. Sorry, I forgot.”
“Are you okay? You’re forgetting so many things these days”
Just for you guys behind the bush, memory is a sore subject. I forget about it until I’m reminded.
Anyway, Jenny takes a moment to refill her teacup. It’s really weird, it doesn’t matter how old Jenny becomes, she always has that warmth of a nineteen-year-old-girl first time in love.
“Your sisters, they wouldn’t really turn up, would they?”
“And have to deal with you? Highly unlikely, Harry.”
The cheddar is beautifully sharp, and the Branston is fit for the devil.
“Back home, we call this a ploughman’s lunch.”
“Yes, I know, dear, you tell me every time there’s a piece of cheese on your plate.”
“I do?”
“You do.”
“You know your mom is ninety-one this year?”
“That’s because last year she was ninety.”
“Funny! Don’t you see, she’s just waiting me out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, she truly loves you. Every time you go to see her, I watch her eyes light up. She never misses your birthday.”
“That’s another thing, I could have been born on any day between the 9th of the month and the 17th. That’s what the doctor said. I never gave myself a birthday, just a birth week, remember? What does your mother do, she celebrates with a card on the 13th day of the month? Isn’t that a little creepy?”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince people you’re badly done to, Harry.”
“Every time we visit her, she always looks asleep to me. Did you think, you know, when we were last there…”
“That was yesterday…”
“It was…? Anyway, did you think she smelled like camel poo?”
“Sweetie, I know you could eat a ploughman’s lunch sitting in a sewer, but hearing you say that my mother smells like Camel poo is off-putting. Can we just leave mom out of this?”
“I’m just saying, it’s a trap.”
“Then why do you treat her like a goddess when you’re there.”
“I’m frightened of her.”
“Really…you’re frightened of her?”
“Damn smoking right!”
“Finish your sandwich, you’re being childish.”
“No, honestly. She was a wake when I asked her about what she thought is going on in Ukraine. Do you know what she said?”
“I do not, why don’t you tell me, Harry.”
“I will. She said, more than is going on in yours! I mean, Jenny, humor like that, at ninety-one, it’s like giving me the death penalty. Then I was going to say she misheard me, but she fell into a coma.”
Jenny picked up the sandwich plates.
“I made some lemon curd tarts.”
“Wonderful, thank you.”
Okay, relax you guys, Jenny has gone inside. Jack, I heard you tutting, like you know I’m heading into trouble. If Jenny knows you’re all listening, she will clamp down on me like I was a piece of metal in a scrapyard. So yesterday, at the retirement home, where her mother has been for forty freaking years, I was in her room and had opened the window because of that funky smell. But then it started to rain. It blew the curtains and rain splashed on the sill.
When I pulled the window down, it fell like an executioner’s blunt blade. Thump. I saw my mother-in-law’s body lying on the floor, headless. I got onto my toes and peeked out the window, staring down. looking for her head…
“What are you looking for? Harry.”
“Nothing…nothing at all. It started to rain; thought I’d shut the window.”
“Has mom stirred at all?”
“What…what…oh, er, no. Quite dead, I mean head, she moved her head, just a little, I think.”
Ut, oh, jump down, quick, Jenny’s coming back.
“Wow, they look amazing.”
“Just remember, I’d like these tarts to last out the week. You ate eighteen of them in two days, last time.”
I once told Jenny about Mrs. Beeton, and her recipes. I live out of that book, but I’m not complaining.
“Do you think your mom finds me boring?”
“How could she, Harry, after you renamed all her children.”
“Not all of them.”
“Four of them. And you’ve never called them anything else but the names you gave them. Even at Cruella’s marriage…I mean Cathy, see, you have me at it now.”
“Maybe, but I tell you, I didn’t eat or drink anything after the ceremony.”
“Yes, I know, dear. I had to carry Wall’s pork pies in my purse.”
“Okay, but what happened to her husband, tell me that, right.”
“One tart or two?”
“Two, please, they look so lemony.”
“Well, Freddie? Who you nicknamed Krueger! He went off to Saudi Arabia, now owns a mansion in Switzerland, and a yacht bigger than yours. Cathy has two children, both in university.”
“See, they never wanted kids. What parents send their kids away to university in Saudi Arabia?”
“They go to university in Geneva.”
“Yeh, well, he’s a contemptuous bastard. Probably wears a bed sheet. I mean, com’on, Jenny. You have to admits it’s all a bit weird, right?”
“He wears Saville Row suits, and Cathy comes to London for a weekend just to shop at Harrods…you’ve got lemon curd in your beard.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
“Yes, dear, but I’m not sure what it is you’re saying.”
“I’m just saying, you got lucky, my love.”
“I would think so too, if I could get you to use a napkin, honey.”
“How much longer do you think she’ll live, mom, I mean?”
“If I hear one more word about mom, she will outlive you, Harry, that’s a promise.”
Then it hit me, “Ah, so that’s the old girl’s plan.”
