Hannah was suddenly struck with pangs of guilt. Michael wasn’t averse to cooking for himself if the need arose. Eggs and bacon were his forte. He had cooked that for them both most Sundays after they had been to Mass. She had let him do it – eventually, she had even expected it. Now she was sorry. She had always prided herself on her feminist beliefs, even though, if she was truthful, she was just lazy. She had not even bothered to get up and see him off to school once he was old enough to look after himself. He had been quite happy so she had always felt that it was pointless both of them getting up when she was so tired. After all, she had always worked so they could live. She had expected him to do his bit from an early age, and he had never questioned her methods. Until now. Hannah realised her son was very old-fashioned in some respects. He liked having a decent meal waiting for him when he came home; he expected his laundry to be hung up in his wardrobe, crisply ironed. That was how things were done in the Callahan household. He didn’t even bother to give her a thank you for her trouble any more; he seemed to think it was expected of her. It was as if he had taken a step away from her; she was frightened that, if she wasn’t careful, he would step away from her for good.
She gazed at him, still amazed that she’d produced such a handsome man. He was really a looker, he could actually have been a male model if he had been that way inclined. There were plenty of them now, on TV adverts and in all the magazines. They were real men too – not like the nancy boys of old. Her Michael could have been in films, he was that fecking handsome. He had the rugged good looks that most men would kill for. He could have any girl he wanted, yet he had eyes for no one except Josephine Callahan. He was throwing himself away, but he could not see that. He was obsessed with her.
She decided to change the subject. ‘How’s it going with the Costellos, son?’
Michael shrugged as usual. She knew he was not going to give her bell, book and candle. He never discussed anything with her any more.
‘Great. There’s a party at Patrick’s house tomorrow, why don’t you come? It’s his wedding anniversary. It will be a great night, Mum. Plenty of drink, great food, and a live band as well. You should really think of coming along with me and Josephine.’
Hannah grimaced. She had known about the party for weeks, but he’d said not a word to her about going with him. ‘Oh, you and young Josephine wouldn’t want me with you.’
Michael shook his head. His mother was such a bitter pill these days. He knew that Josephine had asked her to come with them ages ago but, as usual, she had totally blanked her.
It was starting to irritate him. She still treated Josephine as if she was no more than a casual acquaintance of his, even though they were on the verge of getting married. He had tried to keep the peace, tried to pretend that there wasn’t any problem, but it was getting harder and harder to keep up the pretence. His mother went through stages of acknowledging Josephine existed. Then she would revert to ignoring her, and Josephine would allow her to treat her like shit. It wasn’t on. He had really had enough.
‘Josephine would love you to come with us, Mum, as you know.’
Hannah sighed and, looking at her son quizzically, she said haughtily, ‘Oh, I don’t think that’s really the case now, Michael, do you?’
Michael hated her when she was like this. She had always acted as if everyone that he liked or he wanted to be involved with had something chronically wrong with them, and as if he was too young or too stupid to see that for himself. He had always backed down, feeling guilty for wanting other people in his life. His mother had been enough for him when he was a kid, but he saw that he had never made friends unless his mother had given them her seal of approval. Now he was a grown, successful man, but she still expected him to choose her over everyone else in his life.
‘Why do you do this, Mum? Why do you always have to try and make everything such a fucking drama? You were invited, you know that.’
Hannah could sense the anger that her son was trying so hard to contain. She had pushed him too far. If only she could stop herself, enjoy his company while she had it, without trying to force him to prove that she was the only person he would ever love. But she couldn’t do that. He was hers, her only child, her only boy, and she was not able to let him go. He owed her. The few years with Josephine were nothing compared with the lifetime with her. He would see that at some point.
‘Josephine is forever inviting you out somewhere, Mum, and you are always saying that you can’t make it. Well, listen to me. One of these days she’ll finally take the hint and blank you, and who could blame her, eh?’
Hannah wanted to explain that she could not help herself. Josephine was like a thorn in her side. The day he had met that little bitch had been the beginning of the end for her and her son. Now with the wedding nearly upon them, she knew that she would have to accept her, at least on the surface. She had no choice. But it was so hard. Josephine Callahan was like a big balloon; bright and beautiful on the outside, but if you popped the fucker with a well-aimed dart, just hot air inside. Why could her son not see that? Josephine was not woman enough for a man like her Michael. He would tire of her eventually, that was a given.
‘Listen, Michael, I don’t accept her invitations for the simple reason I don’t want to spend a whole day looking in clothes shops! Jaysus, Michael, you tell me one time you ever knew me to go shopping for a whole fecking day! I’d rather boil me own shites.’
Michael had to laugh; in fairness, she was telling the truth. But it wasn’t about that – it was about showing willing, about accepting Josephine as her future daughter-in-law, as a part of the Flynn family. She knew that as well as he did.