Wed rather have privacy than your opinions, the son said, glancing at his wife.
Emma, wheres your mother today? asked Margaret, peering at her young daughter-in-law through thick glasses. She promised to come help with the salads.
Shes busy, Emma replied shortly, continuing to slice cucumbers. Got held up at work.
Work again, Margaret sighed, shaking her head. What about family? When are you two giving me grandchildren? Youre not getting any younger, you know.
Emma tightened her grip on the knife but said nothing. The sound of the television flicking on came from the living roomAndrew had returned from the garden, where hed spent the day digging.
Andrew! Margaret called. Come help us set the table.
In a minute, Mum, he replied but didnt move.
Margaret sighed and began pulling out the best china. Tomorrow, her sister and brother-in-law were visiting from Manchester for a big family lunch.
Emma, did you wash those tomatoes properly? Margaret asked, peering into the bowl. My stomachs sensitive if things arent done right.
I washed them, Margaret, Emma replied evenly.
And those cucumbersslice them thicker. Men like hearty helpings. Andrews always been that wayif its a salad, it should fill him up.
Emma set the knife down and looked at her mother-in-law.
Perhaps youd like to cut them yourself, then?
Oh, dont be silly, dear, Margaret waved her off. Im only offering advice. Ive got forty years of kitchen experience. Youre youngyouve still got learning to do.
Andrew shuffled in, still in his muddy trainers and old T-shirt, hair tousled, dirt smudged on his cheek.
Hows it going, ladies? he grinned. Cooking up a feast?
We are, his mother nodded. But you should wash up and change. Look at the state of you.
Mum, Im at home, Andrew said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Just unwinding.
Home or not, you should show some self-respect. Your wife looks at you and wonders what sort of man she married.
Emma spun around.
Margaret, I love my husband just as he iscovered in dirt or dressed smartly.
Of course, of course, Margaret agreed. But love is one thing, and order is another. The neighbors son-in-law always looks sharphome or office.
What does he do? Andrew asked, finishing his water.
Some sort of manager. Sits at a desk, doesnt get his hands dirty.
I work on a construction site, Mum. Cant exactly wear a suit.
I know that. But once youre home, you could tidy up.
Andrew waved a hand and left the kitchen. Emma kept chopping, ignoring Margarets pointed looks.
Another thing, Margaret began, settling onto a stool. You two keep the telly on so loud in the evenings. Im right next doorcant sleep a wink.
We dont have it loud, Emma countered.
You do. And you talk loudly too. Last night, I was up past midnight.
Emmas face flushed. Last night, she and Andrew *had* stayed up latebut their conversation had been private. The television was only on to muffle their voices.
Margaret, maybe you should try earplugs? Emma suggested. The chemist sells good ones.
Earplugs? In my own home? Margaret huffed. You should respect others and keep quiet.
Andrew reappeared, now in a clean shirt.
Whats going on? he asked, sensing the tension.
Just explaining to Emma that a house should be peaceful, Margaret said. Last night, I couldnt sleep with all your noise.
What noise? Andrew frowned.
The telly, your talking. Kept me up till midnight.
Andrew and Emma exchanged a glance. She turned toward the window.
Mum, we try not to disturb you, he said carefully.
Try harder. I deserve some peace in my own home.
Margaret, Emma cut in, maybe we should move out? Rent somewhere so we dont bother you.
Margaret gaped.
Move out? Whod help me then? Im not as young as I wasthis house is too much alone.
Wed visit, Andrew said. Help with whatever you need.
Visit! Margaret scoffed. What if I fall ill? What if something happens? The neighbors wouldnt hear a thing! No, were familywe stay together.
Then there shouldnt be complaints, Emma said firmly. Family respects each other.
Of course, I respect you! Im only sharing wisdom.
Andrew sighed and sat at the table.
Mum, enough advice for today. Emmas had a long day.
What did I say wrong? Margaret protested. Just harmless, practical talk.
We dont want your advice, Emma said sharply. Well figure things out ourselves.
Margaret pursed her lips.
So now Im unwanted in my own home. Forty years here, and suddenly Im in the way.
No one said that, Emma softened. But everyone deserves privacy.
Privacy! Margaret sniffed. Who does your laundry? Cooks? Cleans? Thats privacy?
We never asked you to, Emma said. We can manage.
Oh, can you? Between your jobs and odd hours? Im retiredthought I was helping.
Andrew stood and walked to the window. Outside, streetlights flickered on.
Listen, he said, back turned. Lets settle this. Mum, we appreciate your help. But sometimes, we just want to be aloneno comments, no interference.
So Im to stay in my room? Margaret asked.
No, he turned. Be part of the house. But dont meddle in our lives.
Meddle? Whats *meddling* about caring?
Emma set down the knife.
Margaret, were husband and wife. We have our own plans, our own ways.
Youre part of this family! Margaret snapped. Not some island!
Our own family, Andrew said. Youre part of the bigger one, not ours.
Margarets hands flew up.
So Im not family? My own son says that!
You misunderstood Emma started.
I understood perfectly! Pushing me out after forty years!
Mum, stop, Andrew said wearily. No ones pushing you out.
Then what? No right to speak in my own home?
You have every right, Emma said. But not over our choiceshow we talk, dress, when we have children.
Children! Im only asking! Id like grandchildren.
Youll have them when were ready, Andrew said.
And whens that? Youre not youngsters!
There, Emma gestured. More advice, more pressure.
Margaret crossed her arms.
Respect used to matter. Elders knew best.
Times change, Emma said. People lived differently thencrammed into tiny flats. Now we value space.
And look where thats got everyone! Margaret shot back. Divorces, loneliness. My neighbors son moved outnow shes alone, and hes divorced!
Emma and I arent divorcing, Andrew said. We just want harmony.
Whats unharmonious here? Margaret demanded.
Andrew looked from Emma to his mother.
That we cant talk at night without scrutiny. That every move is judged. That Emma hesitates to leave our room.
Hesitates? Margaret blinked. Why?
Your comments, Emma admitted. You always find fault.
Im guiding you!
We dont need guiding, Andrew said flatly. We want peace, not opinions.
Margaret stood as if struck.
Not needed, she whispered. Forty years a mother, and cast aside.
Mum Andrew reached for her, but she stepped back.
No! If my helps unwanted, then so am I!
She stormed out, slamming the door. Silence settled between Andrew and Emma.
Well, Emma exhaled. Shell sulk for a week now.
What choice do we have? Andrew rubbed his temples. Endure forever?
From Margarets room, the television blaredloud, deliberate.
Should we really move? Emma asked softly.
Leave her alone? Shes seventy, her healths shaky.
So we keep enduring?
Andrew pulled her close.
I dont know. Maybe shell adjust understand.
Emma leaned into him.
I just want us to be happy. Without intrusion.
Me too.
They stood embraced as the TV droned next doorMargarets loud, wounded protest.
Tell you what, Andrew said suddenly. Tomorrow, well see an estate agent. See whats out there.
And your mum?
Let her be alone awhile. Maybe shell see were her children, not her staff.
But itll hurt her
Well visit daily. Help however she needs. But we live separately.
Emma nodded, relief washing over her.
Dont tell her yet, she murmured. Let her cool off.
Of course.
They finished the salad in silence, each lost in thought. Emma imagined a small flatjust theirs. No eavesdropping, no criticism. Freedom.
Andrew thought of his mother. Would she ever accept it? See that grown children need space? Or would she forever resent them?
Next door, the TV clicked off. Margaret was going to bed. Tomorrow, she might pretend nothing happened. Or she might cling to her grievance.
But it didnt matter. The decision was made.
Emma pictured the next dayguests arriving, polite chatter, pretending all was well. Then, afterward, she and Andrew would view flats. Their future. Their independence.
At last, theyd live as they chosenot as Margaret dictated.
**Lesson:** Love means respectnot control. The strongest families thrive when each generation allows the other room to grow.
