My sister matters more than youyoure just an outsider, said the husband, making his choice clear.
Tom, for heavens sake, dont just stand there like a lamppost! Help me carry these groceries! called Emily from the hallway, wrestling off her rain-soaked jacket.
Tom reluctantly peeled himself away from the football match on telly and shuffled over. Rain drummed against the windows, leaving the flat chilly and damp.
Did you go to the farmers market again? Its daylight robbery there, he grumbled, peering into the overstuffed bags.
Well, where else am I supposed to get decent tomatoes? The supermarket ones taste like plastic. Sarahs coming over tomorrow with the kids, and I wanted to make that beef stew she loves.
Emily was already unpacking the groceries in the kitchen, while Tom watched in silence. She always went all out whenever his younger sister visitedlike it was some grand occasion. The finest ingredients, a spotless flat, the best china.
Dont see the point in all this fuss, he muttered. Sarahs not exactly high maintenance.
High maintenance or not, guests deserve a proper welcome. Especially family, Emily snipped, stacking vegetables in the fridge.
She knew he disapproved of her efforts, but she kept at it on principle. Sarahalways referred to formally as *Sarah Thomas* in Emilys mindwasnt just his sister; she was some unattainable ideal. Gorgeous, successful, two perfect kids, a husband with a stable job. Lived in the city, worked in finance, dressed like shed stepped out of a magazine. Next to her, Emily always felt like a frumpy housewife.
The doorbell interrupted her thoughts.
Bit early for them, isnt it? Tom frowned at his watch. They said theyd come after lunch.
But it wasnt Sarah. It was Mrs. Wilkins from next door, red-eyed and sniffling.
Emily, love, Im at my wits end! My Whiskers has gone missingthree whole days now! You havent seen him, have you?
Emily ushered the old woman inside and put the kettle on. Mrs. Wilkins was a lonely soul; that cat was all the family she had.
Havent seen him, Mrs. Wilkins. Maybe hes locked himself in somewhere? Did you check the basement?
Everywhere! Even asked the caretakers, but no luck. Oh, whatll I do without my Whiskers?
Tom rolled his eyes and slunk back to the telly. He had no patience for neighbourly dramas and Mrs. Wilkins endless waterworks. Emily poured the tea and sat with her, nodding along to the old womans woes.
Dont fret. Cats are cleverhell turn up. Probably found himself a lady friend.
Hes *neutered*! Mrs. Wilkins wailed. Whats he want with lady friends?
They sat for over an hour. Emily listened, soothed, offered advice. Tom shot pointed looks at the clock, but she ignored him.
When Mrs. Wilkins finally left, he snapped.
Weve got guests coming today, and youre wasting time on that batty old woman!
Tom, seriously? Shes heartbroken! If I lost our cat, Id be frantic too.
Its a *cat*! A bloody animal! Meanwhile, Sarahs on her way, and youve not even started cooking properly!
Emily gritted her teeth. *Sarah again*. As if life had no meaning without her.
By evening, the relatives arrived. Sarah Thomas was impeccable as evertailored blazer, sleek ponytail, designer heels. The kidsten-year-old Oliver and eight-year-old Lilyimmediately latched onto Uncle Tom.
Uncle Tom! Did you get that new game you promised? Lily chattered.
Course I did! Just get changed first.
With his sister, Tom transformed. Jovial, attentive, *present*. Emily watched, baffled. Why couldnt he be like that with her?
How was the drive? Not too exhausting? she fussed.
Fine, thanks. Though the traffic was ghastly with the rain, Sarah replied politely.
Theyd never been close. Emily had tried, but Sarah kept her at arms lengthfriendly, but never warm. Like she was just tolerating her brothers wife.
Dinner was awkward. The kids prattled about school, Sarah shared bland work anecdotes, and Tom laughed like she was the next best thing to stand-up. Emily mostly stayed quiet, refilling glasses and adding more food to plates.
Remember, Tom, how we used to stuff ourselves with Mums stew? Sarah chuckled. Shed chase us with the wooden spoon!
Too right! You hid under the table, and I legged it to the garden!
They reminiscedchildhood, old friends, family lore. Emily might as well have been a ghost at her own table.
Emily, youre awfully quiet, Sarah remarked.
Just tired, thats all.
Shes always tired, Tom cut in. Works a nightmare, then she comes home in a mood.
Emily flinched. Who *says* that about their wife in front of others?
Works stressful for everyone, Sarah said mildly.
After dinner, the men flopped in front of the telly, the kids glued to tablets, and the women cleared up.
Need a hand? Sarah offered, half-heartedly.
Ive got it.
Emily scrubbed dishes, listening to Tom and Sarah laugh in the next room. Whatever they were discussing, it sounded like the best time of their lives.
Emily, Sarah said suddenly. Can we talk?
Go on.
Tom mentioned youre trying for a baby.
Emily froze, plate in hand. Hed *discussed* this with her?
Well, weve been married seven years, she said carefully.
Thing is, as his sister, I worry. Kids are a *huge* responsibility. And expensive.
Well manage.
Will you? Sarah smirked. No offence, but look at the facts. Toms salarys modest, yours isnt much better. Were renting, no car. Kids need clothes, school, university
Emily set the plate down.
And this is *your* business because?
Because if things go south, *Ill* be the one bailing him out. Toms always relied on me.
Nobodys asking you to help.
Youre not, but Id have to. Hes my only brother.
Emilys blood boiled. *So not only does he confide in her, he paints me as some financial liability?*
Sarah, this is between Tom and me.
Of course. Just giving my two cents. Maybe wait until youre more stable?
From the living room, the kids burst into giggles. Tom was telling some childhood story.
Sarah, remember old Mr. Harris down the road?
The one whod stumble home drunk? Mum used to say, Study hard or youll end up like him!
They roared with laughter. The kitchen was ice.
I wont put motherhood on hold for money, Emily said quietly.
Your choice. But think of Tom. Hes under enough pressure.
What pressure? He hasnt mentioned anything.
Sarah hesitated. Oh, not much. Just work stress, boss riding him.
Funny. He hasnt said a word to me.
Men dont complain to their wives. Easier to talk to sisters.
Emily nodded, seething. *So he has secrets from me but spills everything to her?*
The rest of the evening was strained. Emily plastered on a smile but felt like an intruder in her own home. Tom doted on Sarah and the kids, barely glancing at her.
When the guests turned incrashing on the sofa bedthe couple retreated to their room.
Nice evening, Tom yawned, stripping off his shirt.
Lovely.
Why the face? Sarah said you were off with her.
*I* was off? She spent dinner lecturing me about our finances!
Tom paused. Whats the harm? Sarahs got two kidsshe knows the drill. Mightve been helpful.
*Helpful*? She outright said we shouldnt have a baby yet!
Well shes not wrong. Moneys tight as it is.
Emily sat on the bed. So you agree with her?
Im saying shes got a point. Look at our situation.
Tom, Im *thirty*. How much longer should I wait?
Dunno. Couple of years? See how things go.
*Years*? What if I cant conceive later? Risks go up after thirty-five!
Sarah had Lily at thirty-seven. She was fine.
*There it is. Always
