Fate weaves such strange turns in life that everyone is left bewildered, never having imagined such twists could happen.
Emily and James had been married for nearly a decade. They loved each other dearly and were raising two sons. Emily was a teacher by training and had once taught history at school. But after their youngest, little Tommy, was born with health complications, she had to resign. His condition meant she had to be by his side at all times.
“Were off to the hospital with Tommy today,” Emily told James over breakfast as he prepared for work. “Our appointments at elevencould you drive us?”
“Of course,” James replied. “Ill just pop into the office for the morning meeting, then Ill swing by to pick you up. Ill call when Im on my way.”
“You couldve taken the bus with the boyits not like youre some grand lady,” muttered his mother, Margaret, pursing her lips in disapproval.
Emily stayed silent, while James simply nodded, grabbed his car keys, and left. They lived in his mothers flata tolerable arrangement, if not for Margarets domineering nature. The daughter of a retired colonel, she was used to giving orders and brooked no argument. Crossing her came at a price, something Emily had learned the hard way when Margaret had put her firmly in her place years ago.
“Im the mistress of this house,” Margaret had snapped the moment she saw Emily step into the kitchen to cook. “And I wont have another woman thinking she owns the place. Do I make myself clear? I wont repeat it.”
Emily had understood immediately. She never arguedMargaret had been widowed young and clung to her son fiercely, insisting they all live under her roof.
One might think shed be happyher son married, grandchildren born, a daughter-in-law who never caused trouble. But the colonels blood ran strong in her veins, and her affection was reserved for James and the boys. Emily barely registered as a person to her.
“Dont touch anything in this house you cant clean, you cant cook, youre hopeless with my son and grandchildren,” Margaret would say, though Emily scrubbed every floorboard, dusted meticulously, and kept the flat spotless.
Still, she could never please her mother-in-law. The criticisms only worsened after Tommys birth, when Emily had to quit her job. She cried in secret, sometimes confiding in James.
“James, I respect your mum, but wed be better off living on our own,” shed say carefully, avoiding outright blame.
“Whats she ever done wrong? The house is clean, the laundrys done, meals are cooked, the kids are fed. You dont even workyou could handle this yourself. Instead of thanking her, you moan like an old woman,” hed retort.
“James, youve no idea how much I want to care for my own children, to cook and clean. But Margaret”
“We cant afford our own place,” hed cut in sharply. “End of discussion. And dont forget, Im the only one bringing in money.”
So she resigned herself to it.
“Emily, meet me downstairs with Tommy,” James called when she was ready to leave.
“Margaret, shall I pick up groceries after the hospital?” Emily asked.
“Certainly not. Ill get what we need. You wouldnt know decent food if it bit you,” Margaret said crisply, lips pressed tight as she turned away.
“Good Lord, will I ever please her?” Emily thought. “Nothings ever good enough. And James refuses to see ithe only listens to his precious mother.”
After the hospital, she and Tommy wandered the park, swinging on the playground, sharing ice cream beneath a crisp autumn sun. At six, hed skip nursery and start primary school next year. The doctor had reassured her:
“Everythings fineTommy will join a regular school like any other child. Hes bright, and his condition isnt worsening. Youve done wonderfully caring for him. Respect to you for your patience.”
“Thank you, Doctor. That means the world.”
They returned home in high spirits, though Emily knew Margaret would dismiss the praise. The last word was always hers, and it was never kind. But Emily had long since learned to endure.
“How was the appointment, Tommy?” Margaret asked her grandson.
“Brilliant, Gran! The doctor said Im clever and Mummy takes good care of me!” he blurted cheerfully.
“Oh, so Mummy gets the credit? As if I had nothing to do with it”
Margarets sixtieth birthday loomed in Marcha milestone. Emily and James agonized over a gift. Nothing would satisfy her.
“Em, what if we take Mum to a restaurant? Give her a break from cooking,” James suggested.
“A restaurant? I dont know shell find fault,” Emily hesitated.
“Sorted, then. Well surprise her the night before.”
Emily liked the idea, but she knew Margaret would gripe regardless. She couldnt imagine her ever being truly happy.
“Mum, were celebrating your birthday at a restaurant,” James announced the day before. Margaret opened her mouth to protest, but he pressed on. “Youre one in a million, and sixty only comes once. Let us spoil you.”
Miraculously, she agreedno scolding, though her smile was thin. A small victory.
At the restaurant, they settled at their table. The children were thrilled; Emily and James, dressed smartly, relaxed. But Margaret sat stiffly, radiating discontent. Finally, she snapped:
“Son, well be penniless at this rate. We couldve eaten at home for half the price. And you, Emilya proper wife wouldve talked sense into him. This is your doing.”
Emily stayed silent, refusing to ruin the evening. At a nearby table, an older man watched them intently. James glowered.
“Whys he staring? Stop looking at him,” he muttered, kicking her under the table.
“Who? Where?”
“You know damn well,” he hissed, veins bulging.
Before it escalated, the stranger stood and approached Margaret.
“May I have this dance?”
To everyones shock, she accepted, offering her hand with a coy smile.
They moved gracefully, laughing softly, lost in conversation. They danced all evening.
“This is Harold,” Margaret announced later. “We were at school together. Fancy him remembering me after all these years! A widower, like me. What a birthday gift youve given me.”
That night, as they prepared to leave, Margaret said airily, “Dont wait up. I may be late or not at all.” With a flutter of her fingers, she left with Harold.
She never came home.
The next afternoon, the doorbell rang. James opened it to find Margaret beaming, Harold grinning behind her.
“Hello, darlings! Ive just come for my things.”
They stood dumbstruck.
“Well? Cat got your tongues? Im moving out. Harold and Iweve decided.” She glanced back at him, and he nodded eagerly.
After packing, she kissed them all goodbye and left with Harold. They married soon after. Emily and James were overjoyedespecially Emily.
“At last, Im mistress of my own home. I cook, I clean, I do the laundryproperly.”
“Love, I had no idea you were such a brilliant cook,” James marveled. “The house is spotless. Youre a wonder.”
“I told you I could manage. Now you see.”
Margaret and Harold visited occasionally. She showered Emily with praise, calling her “darling” and “a natural homemaker.” James adored his wife. And Margaret, gazing adoringly at Harold, would often sigh:
“I always said a home needs one mistress. You, Emily, are perfect. My sons lucky to have you.”
Emily and James would exchange a glanceand smile.
