"A Mother's Love"

“A Mother’s Love”

I woke up to the sound of rain pitter pattering on the window pain. My bed was warm and cozy; I burrowed deeper under the covers. For a moment I could almost- almost- forget the crushing grief, the suffocating feeling of loss in my chest.

              I felt a hand rubbing my back over the covers and could tell that the overhead light had been flipped on. “Rise and shine, sleepy head!” my mother-in-law, Sheila’s, voice rang in her sing-songy way. 

              I reluctantly pulled the covers down and sat up against the pillows squinting against the harsh light. I could smell myself; I hadn’t bathed in four days. I could taste the furry growth on the back of my teeth since I hadn’t brushed them in almost as long.

              Sheila sat down at the edge of my bed causing it to sag under her ample bottom. She put a mug of coffee and a piece of toast on the nightstand. She’s so thoughtful. I noticed she had also put a photo of Ross, my husband- my dead husband- on the nightstand, too. It was a photo of him on our wedding day in his tux, his smile bright. I loved that photo, but it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I kept thinking his face should be right next to me in bed instead of in that frame.

              She saw me looking at the photo and picked it up. She handled it lovingly. “I just love this photo of Rossy,” she cooed. “He was so happy that day.” She sighed and set it back on the nightstand. 

“Honey, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings,” she said gently, “but you could use a good airing out, if you get my meaning. Let me go run you a bath.” Her large behind sashayed to the bathroom, and I could hear bathwater running. I was so grateful that Sheila had done me the favor of moving in with me temporarily after Ross died. My own mother died from breast cancer when I was fourteen, and now I was widowed at the ripe old age of thirty-three.

He went quickly and unexpectedly. Covid. One minute he was here—strong, healthy, running marathons—and the next minute he lay cold and dead, victim to the virus mere months before the vaccine was available. Oddly enough, I was unscathed. Me—pleasantly plump with a fondness for sweets and red wine. None of it made sense. But I was just so grateful for Sheila’s calm, motherly presence as I navigated this new world alone. 

She’ll never understand how much I appreciate this favor. I didn’t even know her that well. Ross and I had only dated for three months before we eloped in Maui. As they say, when you know, you know. Ross and I lived in Palm Springs; Sheila lived in rural Ohio. She occasionally came to visit us during our brief two-year marriage, but she and Ross were so close, they always ended up engaged in deep, intimate conversations where I felt like an outsider. She was always nice; we just weren’t close. But her she was taking care of me like I was her own daughter. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay this favor.

A few weeks passed, and I had settled into my new normal. I’d returned to work and endured the sympathetic looks of my coworkers. I’d started bathing without being prompted. I’d started eating again. Heck, I’d even started working out at the gym after work. It was something to do to pass the time…and even, maybe, avoid Sheila.

Sheila was still there, her wide behind in my kitchen making me four-course dinners every night. Hell, I needed to work out just to keep the weight off from all the food love. I still appreciated her for sure, but I knew I needed to start living- really living- on my own. But there she was as I walked in the door dropping my gym bag by the door. I could smell the garlic from the lasagna wafting from the kitchen.

As I walked past the dining room, I could see the table was already set for two. Oh, I thought to myself. New placemats. That was nice. And it was nice. But the ornate baby pink and blue floral pattern was definitely not my style. Neither was the doily in the middle of the table housing a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of cookies. Oh, well, I thought. I can’t complain. She’s taking good care of me.

I rounded the dining room and said hello to Sheila.

“Oh, hello, dear,” she cooed in her sugary sweet drawl. “How was work, honey?”

“It was good. Same ol’, same ol’.”

“Why don’t you go have a little rest and watch some TV while I go finish up dinner?”

“Thanks, Sheila,” I said gratefully.

“You’re so welcome, dear. Why don’t you call me mom? With Rossy gone, I don’t have anyone to call me mom anymore, and being a mom has been the greatest joy of my life.”

“Oh- okay…mom.” The words felt foreign coming out of my mouth. I hadn’t called anyone that in nearly twenty years.

I walked into the den to go sit in Ross’s recliner. It still smelled like him and made me feel close to him. I stopped. There was another doily draped over the back of the recliner. I sat down and eased into a reclining position inhaling deeply as the change in position released his smell. Old Spice. I used to tease him about wearing old man cologne, and now I couldn’t get enough of this smell.

I looked around and noticed something seemed out of place, but I couldn’t quite place it. Then I noticed. Over the last few weeks, Sheila must’ve spent her days putting up pictures of Ross everywhere. How had I not noticed until now? Was it the fog of grief? They were everywhere—pictures of Ross playing baseball as a kid, pictures of Ross at the beach on vacation, pictures of Ross with his fraternity brothers, pictures of Ross and Sheila. Fuck, there was even a picture of Ross with his old girlfriend before me. What. The. Fuck.

“I’m going to run upstairs and change out of my sweaty gym clothes,” I called to the kitchen.

“Okay, dear. Dinner in ten!”

I stood up and went up to my room to escape the shrine of Ross. I felt guilty. I loved my dead husband. Hell, I still love my dead husband. Why was I having such a visceral reaction to seeing his face everywhere? I peeled off my sweaty leggings and workout tank and dropped them into the hamper. Ross hated it when I left clothes all over the floor. That’s when I noticed it. Ross had reproduced. More pictures of Ross were framed and placed all over my nightstand and dresser. Some of the frames were gold, some were silver, some even had hearts. Pictures of us dating, engagement pictures, wedding pictures, honeymoon pictures.

I staggered over to the bed to lie down. My fingers ran over the bedspread, except I noticed it wasn’t my bedspread. My comforter had been replaced with a fleece blanket with pictures of Ross screen printed all over it.

My astonishment was broken when Sheila sang out, “Lindsey! Dinner’s on the table!”

I jogged downstairs and sat opposite Sheila at the dining room table. She was already sitting there in her coordinating leisure set with her napkin folded neatly in her lap.

“So, what have you been up to today, Sheila?” I asked carefully. 

“It’s mom, dear. Remember? Well, I did some cleaning and some laundry and some cooking. You know, the usual mom stuff. How was yours, sweetie?”

“Fine.  It looks like you did some, uh, redecorating, too,” I replied.

“Oh! You finally noticed! I wondered how long that was going to take you. Do you like it? Each day I’ve been framing a few pictures of Rossy and putting them around the house. I just want my sweet boy’s memory to live on forever, and I know you want that, too.”

“Um, thanks. I appreciate that.” I chewed slowly on my lasagna without really tasting it.

“Do you like the blanket? I ordered it special for you. Now you can snuggle up with Rossy every night just like you used to.” She smiled warmly and took a big bite of garlic bread.

“Yeah. I- I love it,” I stammered.

She got out of her chair and walked over to heap more lasagna on my plate. “You need to eat some more, dear. You’ve lost so much weight. If you ever want to get married again, you need to keep your figure. Men like a gal with a little meat on her bones.”

“Thanks, Sheila.” Did moms actually say shit like this?

“Mom,” she said sharply.

“Thanks, mom. So, how much longer do you think you’re going to stay here?” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She’d been so kind, and so very helpful. And I loved her. I really did. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Indefinitely. I just want to make sure there’s someone to take care of you. You’ve had such a rough go of it.”

I felt guilty for feeling so irritated with her. She was truly one of the kindest people. She was the reason why Ross was so kind, and that’s what made me fall in love with him in the first place.

I got up and started clearing the dishes. “No, dear! I’ve got it. Why don’t you go have a hot shower and snuggle up under Rossy?”

“Ok. Thanks,” I said. This is so fucking weird, I thought to myself, but I felt guilty for thinking it. She was so nice and helpful.

The next night I came home to more amazing smells greeting me from the kitchen.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Sheila sang from the kitchen. “I’m making Rossy’s favorite! Beef burgundy stew!”

“Oh, Sheila- mom,” I quickly corrected. “I made dinner plans with my friend, Leslie, tonight.”

“Oh! No problem, sweetie. I’ll just package it up, grab my purse, and we can head out to meet your friend!”

“Oh, but I was going to--”

“I’ve been dying for a night out since Rossy died. This is the perfect opportunity!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I scheduled this dinner with Leslie to try and get away from her for a night. I mean, she just lost her son, and she’d been so caring, so helpful. In the last three weeks, she’d done all of my laundry, all of the grocery shopping, cooked the most amazing meals…and created a shrine to her dead son all over my house. Without her, I’d probably be thirty pounds lighter and wallowing in my bed.

“Aaaahhhhhchoooo!” I sneezed. It was followed by a battery of other sneezes.

“Oh, wait!” she exclaimed. “I forgot to show you! Meet Ross!” She held up the furriest Persian cat I’d ever seen. “I thought a furry friend would be just what you needed. You know, I can’t stay here forever.”

Thank God, I thought.

“It’s a girl, but I named her Ross. Now you can snuggle with a living breathing Ross!”

“Sheil—mom, I’m allergic to cats.”

“Oh, you’ll adjust. Allergies are in most people’s heads anyway. You need companionship! On that note, let’s get going to go meet your little friend!” She turned and headed out the door.

Before I knew it, weeks had turned into months, and Sheila was still there, and Ross was still reproducing. Literally. Not only had pictures of Ross invaded every room of my house, Ross the Female Feline turned out to be in the family way. She was now the proud mother of three (admittedly adorable) kittens. I spent more time sneezing and doing shots of Benadryl than anything else.

Not only had Ross reproduced, Sheila’s decorations had, too. Every surface of my sleek mid-century modern house was covered with doilies, lace, dried flowers, and chintz. It looked like the Golden Girls had moved in. Aside from the clutter, my house was immaculate. Thanks, Sheila.

I sat in Ross’s doily-covered chair drinking tea and watching Jeopardy as Sheila and her big bottom puttered around the kitchen. She was making chicken paprikash. My mouth salivated from the aroma of peppers and paprika. God, the food I so good, but how do I get rid of her? I thought.

“Soup’s on, sugar!” she sang from the dining room. I frankly would’ve given anything for Chinese takeout eaten silently while sitting in Ross’s chair watching Mayim Bialik muddle through her new hosting gig. 

I sat down across from Sheila and put my napkin in my lap. “How was your day, mom?” I asked.

“It was so amazing! Darlin’, I’ve got big news for you!”

“Oh? What is it?” I asked.

“Well, I’ve been staying her for so long, I just got to thinking…”

Yes! This is it! She’s finally going back home, and I don’t have to hurt…

“That I don’t really need my little old house in Ohio anymore. So, I sold it! Ta-da! I’m just going to move in here so I can take care of you and little Rossy-cat all the time! Isn’t that marvelous?”

I reacted like a woman possessed. I snapped. I stood up so quickly that my chair flipped over and landed on its back. The crack of its landing reverberated off the bamboo floors.

“No!” I screamed. “No, no, no, no, no! What the actual fuck? You will cancel that sale, and you will pack your bags, and you will go back to Ohio!” I shouted.

Sheila’s hand fluttered over her heart. She looked at a loss for words. The loss didn’t last long.

“Surely you don’t mean that, dear,” she said when she regained her composure. “You need a mother, and I’m here to be that mother for you. You’ve just had a stressful day.”

“I do mean it. I appreciate all the favors you’ve done for me. I truly do. But you have worn out your proverbial welcome. I want you to go home.”

“You’re so silly, honey. You don’t mean it,” she said. She kept calmly eating her chicken paprikash.

“Sheila—”

“Mom—”

“Sheila, I do mean it. I’m going for a run, and when I get back, I am going to help you pack your bags and your cats and you are going back to Ohio.”

I laced up my running shoes and ran. I ran until my lungs were about to burst and my legs were on fire. I outran Forrest Gump. As I ran, I pictured all the plausible scenarios- would she move back, and we would see each other on holidays? Would I never see her again? Or worse—would she flat out refuse to leave? All I know is that her very presence was making me hate the face of the man I loved with my whole heart, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I finally ran back to my house and opened the door. The table was still set, and the food was still in its serving dish.

That’s odd, I thought. She always cleans up right after dinner. I could hear the sound of The Voice coming from the TV. There were no bags packed and ready by the door. Fuck. I felt something rub against my leg and looked down to see one of Ross’s kittens purring by my feet. I picked it up and snuggled it knowing I’d pay for it with swollen eyes later.

I walked into the den and saw Sheila. She was sitting in Ross’s recliner and covered up in the blanket with Ross’s photos all over it. Ross the Female Feline was sitting in her lap purring contentedly. 

“Mom?” I called. No response. “Mom?” I was trying to be nice. I did feel bad about shouting at her earlier.

As I got closer, I could see her eyes wide and gaping at the ceiling. I checked her pulse. She was gone. I picked up the phone and ordered two egg rolls and some chicken fried rice. The picture of Ross and his old girlfriend in the trash. I guess some favors take care of themselves.