Page 6 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

I video called Rose. It had been a week since our last talk. It was her first year away at Victoria University in Wellington where she was doing a psychology degree.

She picked up and smiled. A weight lifted off me. Though she was grown up now, I still worried about my only daughter, even though she was less than an hour’s flight away. She’d only left home a few months ago, but I worried about all the typical things a mother is nervous about when her daughter had flown the nest. Was she coping with the workload? Did she have enough money? Was she eating properly?

‘Hey, Mum,’ she said, flicking her auburn hair back over her shoulder to reveal the three studs in her right ear. A busy café bustled with activity around her. Rose raised a steaming cup. ‘I’m working on an assignment.’

‘How’s it going?’ I asked.

She wobbled her head from side to side as if undecided. ‘It’s due on Friday, but I’m starting it today. It should be okay.’

Friday was three days away. A dart of anxiety rushed through me. Deadlines. Rose always left things to the last minute.

‘That’s good, Rose. I hope it goes well for you.’ I kept my voice measured and calm. ‘Have you got enough money? Are you eating properly?’

‘It’s all good. My part-time café job pays enough, and I usually eat at home or at Uni because it’s cheap there. Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control.’

‘I knew you would have. I just need to make sure you’re okay because I’m your mother.’

‘Thanks, Mum. You’re looking good. Better than when I saw you after your operation. And that green top you’re wearing suits your hazel eyes. Anyway, what are you up to?’ She lowered her voice and moved closer to the screen. ‘How are things with you and Dad?’

‘The same. No, not the same. Worse. He does less and less now. I think he’s given up looking for another job.’

‘Did he ever look, Mum?’

I thought about it before answering. ‘Probably not.’

‘He won’t have, Mum. I guarantee it. Once his cosy desk job disappeared, he couldn’t be bothered. It would mean doing some actual work if he got something else.’

‘You shouldn’t talk about your dad like that, Rose.’

Rose shook her head. ‘No, he’s lazy. Did you get the deputy principal’s job?’

My silence must have spoken volumes. Or maybe my expression gave it away.

‘I know you’re not happy about your job, Mum, so why don’t you do something about it? So, you didn’t get the job?’

‘I didn’t. Graham got it, that lazy, manipulating piece of shit.’

Rose scowled. ‘The bastard. He used you.’

‘I know. And there I was, doing his work for him. I’m too nice. That’s what it is.’

‘What it is, Mum, is that you let people walk all over you. You need to stand up for yourself. You need to learn to say “no” sometimes. You need to believe in yourself rather than seek validation from others.’

‘Yes, love.’ She was right. I had a brainy daughter, and I’d made sure not to bring her up like I had been—a childhood of duty, of following orders, of not speaking unless spoken to first. And it had worked. Rose was confident and independent—everything I wasn’t, thank goodness.

‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ I said. ‘Brace yourself.’

Rose scanned around the room. ‘I’m sitting in a café. How am I meant to brace myself?’

‘Put your coffee down so you don’t spill it.’

‘Sure.’ She obliged and regarded me with a serious expression.

‘You might find this hard to hear—’

‘You’re going to leave Dad, aren’t you?’

I gasped. ‘How did you know? Does he suspect? Did he say something?’

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