After selling his sick mother's house, her son took her to a shack belonging to an ex-convict. And when the worthless son decided to check on her, he froze with horror.
#storiesfromthebox #cautionarytale #liveyourbestlife #sadstory #familystory #kindstory #sadlovestory #audiostory #amazingstory #lifestory
Mrs.Reilly was sitting in a chair, gazing out the window at the passing clouds. She was a short woman with deeply wrinkled skin that spoke of her long and full life. Her brown, clear eyes still sparkled with life. Mrs.Reilly's gray hair was neatly styled in curls.
"Why isn't Simon calling?" she said quietly, reaching out for the phone. Her movements were slow and careful, as if she feared breaking it. It was her birthday today, but her only son hadn't rushed to congratulate her!
"Maybe later?" Mrs.Reilly sighed, accustomed to the fact that her son was too busy with his own lives to pay attention to her.
"Well, that's enough! I am not going to mope anymore" she exclaimed. This day was truly special - she was turning 80 years old! On such an anniversary, it was literally a crime to give in to despondency and sadness.
Despite her advanced age and recent illness, Mrs.Reilly got up from her chair decisively and made her way to the kitchen, holding on to the wall for support. Walking was difficult due to the stiffness in her joints, but fueled by the anticipation of the feast, Mrs.Reilly briefly felt a surge of vigor and energy.
She decided to cook an apple pie, which was one of her son's favorite desserts. Soon, the appetizing aromas filled the house and then Mrs.Reilly began to set the table. The beautiful tablecloth took its place, and the silverware emerged from a hidden drawer.
Outside the window, the weather was gray, but the rooms of the almost empty house were filled with comfort and warmth. Most of the treats were for her son, Simon, who lived not far away in the same town. However, he didn't often find the time to visit his elderly mother.
Suddenly, there was the sound of the front door opening.
"Hello, are you home? "Of course, where would you go?" Simon called out and breathed in the aroma of the freshly cooked food with pleasure. Memories of his childhood in this house flooded back, making him slightly ashamed of his neglect. But only slightly.
"Hello, sonny," Mrs.Reilly said as she stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway. She tossed aside the towel she was using to wipe her hands and embraced her son. He awkwardly patted her on the back and then disentangled himself from the embrace, handing his mother a bouquet of flowers.
"How are you doing?" Simon muttered, taking off his jacket.
"Oh, I'm getting along," his mother replied, relieved that her closest person had not forgotten about her special day after all. Mrs.Reilly had so much to tell him and listen to stories about his life, but Simon hurried to the kitchen, not paying much attention to her.
"That's right, you must be tired from the journey and hungry," Mrs.Reilly said, unable to look at her only child objectively.
And Simon grew accustomed to his mother's nurturing and pampering. She paid for his expensive education, bought him cars, and provided him with money whenever he asked. Perhaps she hoped to receive his love in return, but eventually, she raised a narcissistic and idle individual. He never accomplished anything in life, although he was already 40 years old.
Simon was a real disappointment, but not to his mother.
"Come in, dear! The food is hot and fresh, just the way you like it!" Mrs.Reilly cooed, following behind her son.
"Oh, a whole feast," the man skeptically shook his head as he sat down at the table.
He had no idea how much effort it took for the 80-year-old woman to prepare the simple appetizers.
Despite everything, Mrs.Reilly felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her son's visit. She was certain that Simon was simply hiding his feelings, as is typical of boys, and deep down she hoped that he appreciated her life experience and wisdom.
"Sonny, taste your favorite pie!" she smiled, putting her arm around her long-awaited guest's shoulders.
"Sure, I'll try it," Simon grumbled.
Mrs.Reilly ignored his displeasure and sat down on a chair next to him, mesmerized as she watched her son handle the fork. It had been a long time since she had seen someone eat her cooking with such enthusiasm.
"So is it good?" she asked.
"Uh-huh."
Every moment he spent with her felt precious to her. "How are you doing? Is everything alright?" she asked.