“If you dont like my rules, you can leave!” snapped Margaret, her mother-in-law, over Sunday roast.
“Margaret, perhaps we could try the potatoes a different way? Ive got a lovely recipe with mushrooms,” Emily suggested gently, stirring the gravy.
“I dont need your recipes!” Margaret snapped, not looking up from peeling carrots. “Thirty years Ive been cooking for this family, and now you waltz in with your fancy ideas!”
Emily sighed and kept stirring. It had been six months since she and James had moved in with his mother after their flat burned down. Six months of petty squabbles, disapproving looks, and backhanded remarks disguised as “family concern.”
“Mum, come on,” James said, entering the kitchen and kissing Emilys head. “Emilys a great cookmaybe we could try something new?”
“Oh, so its *me* now, is it?” Margaret threw her hands up. “Thirty-two years I raised you, fed you, and now my cookings not good enough?”
“Mum, thats not what I said”
“Then what *are* you saying?” She slammed the knife onto the chopping board. “First, you turn up on my doorstep, now youre telling me how to cook!”
Emilys chest tightened. “*Turned up on her doorstep*”as if they were freeloaders, not victims of a fire with nowhere else to go.
“Margaret, I wasnt telling you, just suggesting,” she said quietly, turning off the hob.
“Exactly! Suggesting! Who asked you? This is *my* house, *my* kitchen!” Margaret planted her hands on her hips. “*I* do the cooking here!”
James looked helplessly between them. Emily could see him torn, and it only made her ache more.
“Right, Ill set the table,” she muttered, leaving before she slammed the door.
In the lounge, fourteen-year-old Lily was doing homework on the sofa. She glanced up.
“Another row?”
“Just a discussion,” Emily forced a smile, fetching plates.
“Mum, when are we getting our own place?”
That was the million-pound question. The insurance had barely covered the damage, and between Jamess delivery job and her teaching salary, saving was slow.
“Soon, love. Just hang in there.”
“I *cant*!” Lily burst out. “Shes unbearable! Yesterday she barged in shouting that my music was *noise*, and this morning she moaned I walk too loudly! Im tiptoeing!”
Emily stroked her hair. Lily was a good kid, but even shed reached her limit.
“Give her time. Shes used to living alone.”
“Some grandma,” Lily huffed. “Proper grandmas bake cookies, not nitpick!”
“Shh, shell hear”
“I dont care!”
A crash came from the kitchenJamess voice, then Margarets shrill retort. Emily hurried back.
“What happened?”
“Your husband smashed my mothers china!” Margaret seethed, pointing at the shards. “The last set I had!”
James stood with a dustpan, bewildered.
“Mum, it was an accident! I was helping carry plates”
“Help! Better help your wife learn respect for others things!”
“Me?!” Emily choked. “*James* broke it!”
“And whose fault is *that*?” Margaret rounded on her. “You waltz in, take over! My son never dropped a thing before *you*!”
“Mum, thats not fair” James tried.
“Oh, isnt it? Before marriage, he was a dutiful son. Now? Now its all *her*!”
Emilys patience snapped. Six months of tension bubbled over.
“Margaret, enough,” she said, quieter than she felt. “Well leave tomorrow.”
James paled. “Where? We cant afford”
“Well manage. A bedsit, something.”
Margaret faltered. “Im not *kicking* you out!”
“Youre not. But were clearly in the way.”
“Waitlets talk this through” James pleaded.
“Whats to discuss?” Emily shrugged. “Your mums right. Her house, her rules.”
“I never said *leave*!” Margarets voice wavered.
“You didnt have to. The daily jabs made it clear.”
Margarets lips trembled. “I just… wanted things *right*.”
“And weve tried. But were all miserable.”
Later, Emily rang a colleague who had a cheap flat to letsmall, not central, but *theirs*.
“Regretting it?” James asked as they packed.
“No,” she said truthfully. “You?”
“God, no. Mumll come round.”
By the taxi, Margaret bit her lip. “Visit soon, wont you?”
“Course,” Emily hugged her. “Dinner at ours next time.”
As they drove off, Emily exhaled. Ahead lay uncertaintybut no more walking on eggshells.
“Mum,” Lily whispered, “can I play music in the new place?”
Emily grinned. “Just not too loud.”
The taxi turned onto a new street. A fresh start.
