“We don’t want you at the wedding,” my own children told me.
“Mum, honestly, why are you washing those plates again? They’re already spotless!” Emily sighed, watching her mother scrub the same dishes for the fourth time.
“What if the guests notice watermarks?” Margaret squinted, holding a plate up to the light. “It’s a wedding, everything has to be perfect.”
“Mum, I swear, no ones going to inspect the plates! Theyll be staring at the bride and groom. Youve been in here for hours,” Emily moved closer, arms open, but Margaret stepped back.
“Dont distract me, love. The salads arent ready yet, the cake isnt decorated. Were running out of time.”
Emily shook her head and left the kitchen. In the living room, Daniel, her fiancé, was fidgeting with his tie.
“Listen, is your mum really going to manage all this? Maybe we shouldve booked a restaurant?” he whispered.
“Too late now, everyones been invited here. She insisted on hostingsays restaurants dont feel right.” Emily took his hand. “Just be patient, darling. Shes trying her best.”
Daniel nodded, but doubt flickered in his eyes. Margaret had spent three months preparingresearching recipes, shopping, planning every detail. At first, Emily had been touched by her enthusiasm, but lately, her mother had grown short-tempered, obsessive.
“Emily!” Margaret called from the kitchen. “Come taste the salad!”
The bride returned to find her mother holding out a spoon.
“I think its salted enough, but maybe it needs more?”
“Mum, its fine! Youve asked me ten times already!”
“Sorry for caring!” Margaret turned away, hurt. “I just want everything to be nice. Proper. So Daniels parents dont think were… that we dont know how to…”
Emily rested her hands on Margarets shoulders.
“Mum, whats wrong? You know his parents are lovely people. Theyre not going to judge how much mayo youve used.”
“Arent they?” Margaret spun around. “Did you hear what his mother said yesterday? Oh, we always had smoked salmon at home. Smoked salmon! And here I am serving prawn cocktail…”
“She didnt mean anything by it,” Emily sighed. “Just reminiscing.”
“Dont be naive! I hear the whispers. Margaret lives modestly, doesnt she? Should I be ashamed? That I raised you alone after your father left?”
Emily fell silent. Old wounds had reopened.
“No one judges you, Mum. Everyone knows youve done brilliantly.”
“Do they?” Margaret gave a bitter laugh. “His parents have a four-bedroom house, a new car. And what do I have? A two-up-two-down and a homemade spread?”
“I dont care about their house!” Emily raised her voice. “Im marrying Daniel, not his parents!”
Daniel appeared in the doorway, alerted by the shouting.
“Everything alright?”
“Fine, just fine,” Margaret said quickly, wiping her hands. “Finalising the menu. Nearly done.”
Daniel surveyed the kitchenplates of cold cuts, salads, mains still cooking. The air was rich with herbs and roasting meat.
“Margaret, this looks incredible. Honestly, my parents will be blown away.”
“Oh, stop…” She flushed, pleased despite herself.
“No, really. Id take home cooking over restaurants any day. This is proper food.”
For the first time all day, Margaret smiled.
“Daniel, love, would you like tea? Or coffee? Ill brew a fresh pot.”
“Mum, guests arrive in an hour,” Emily reminded her. “You still need to change.”
“Oh, Lord, youre right!” Margaret gasped. “Havent ironed my dress or done my hair!”
“Youll have time. Go showerIll finish here.” Emily took her mothers apron.
“Dont touch the cake!” Margaret called from the hall. “Ill ice it myself!”
Daniel wrapped an arm around Emily.
“Shes really stressed. Should we help?”
“She wont let us. Shell double-check every fork. Terrified well mess it up.” Emily leaned into him. “I get it. She wants to impress your parents.”
“Why? Were not marrying them.”
“Try telling her that. Shes spent her life proving she can manage alone.”
Daniel thought for a moment.
“Tell you whatIll ask my parents to compliment her cooking. Say its the best theyve had.”
“Would you?”
“Absolutely. Look how hard shes worked.”
Emily kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Itll mean the world to her.”
Half an hour later, Margaret emerged in a navy dress, hair styled, lipstick applied.
“Do I look alright?” she asked nervously.
“Stunning!” Daniel declared. “Right, Em?”
“Gorgeous, Mum.” Emily hugged her. “The mother of the bride, everyone!”
Margaret adjusted her dress, flustered.
“Oh, the cake! I forgot the icing roses”
“Mum, guests are ringing the doorbell!” Emily peered out the window. “Leave itits perfect.”
“Margaret, trust me, that cake is magnificent,” Daniel said. “You greet everyonewell set up.”
Daniels parents arrived first. Eleanor, elegant in a tailored suit, glanced around the house. Margaret braced herself.
“How cosy!” Eleanor said. “You can tell a real home when you see one.”
“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Margaret said, brightening.
Guests trickled inEmilys friends, neighbours, relatives. Laughter filled the rooms. Margaret darted between kitchen and lounge, refilling drinks, checking plates.
“Margaret, join us!” Daniels father, Richard, beckoned. “Youre the hostesswe barely see you!”
“I cant sit, not with so much to”
“Nonsense! Sit right here.”
Margaret perched on the edge of her seat.
“Did you make this potato salad yourself?” Eleanor asked, tasting it.
“Yes, whyis something wrong?”
“Its divine! May I have the recipe?”
Margaret blushed. “Oh, its nothing special. Just good potatoes, fresh chives…”
“And this trifle!” one of Emilys friends exclaimed. “Auntie Marg, its heavenly!”
“Absolutely,” Richard agreed. “My wife mostly reheats ready mealsthis is proper cooking. Youve put your heart into it.”
Margaret blossomed, sharing tips, laughing. The fear had gone.
“Shes a different person,” Emily whispered to Daniel.
“She just needed to feel appreciated,” he said. “Look at her.”
After toasts and well-wishes, guests mingled. Margaret finally relaxed, even sipped wine.
“Margaret,” Eleanor said softly. “Youve raised a wonderful daughter. Daniel adores herits clear she was loved.”
“Thank you,” Margarets eyes glistened. “It wasnt easy, alone. But I wanted her to want for nothing.”
“And she hasnt. Shes kind, capable. Any mother-in-law would be lucky.”
“Oh, stop…”
“And your cooking! Ive eaten so much, my dress might burst!”
Margaret laughed. “Have seconds, then! Theres roast beef, glazed ham…”
Late that night, after the last guest left, the three of them sat together. Margaret kicked off her shoes, exhausted but content.
“Well, Mum? Happy?” Emily asked.
“You know, love,” Margaret mused, “I worried for nothing. His parents are good people. Down-to-earth.”
“Told you!”
“Yes, you did. I was too busy imagining the worst. Thought theyd judge me for a modest home. But they loved it.”
Daniel kissed Margarets hand.
“Thank you for tonight. Mums already stolen three of your recipes.”
Margaret chuckled. “Simple things, really.”
“But made with love,” Daniel said. “Thats what matters.”
Margaret hugged them both.
“Be happy, my dears. And if you ever need meIm here.”
“We know, Mum,” Emily whispered. “Thank you. For everything.”
Margaret watched them, heart full. The fear had been pointless. What mattered was thisfamily, love. That was wealth enough.
Later, washing up, she replayed the day. All that dread, all the insecurity. But happiness wasnt in grand houses or fancy menus. It was in open hearts, in warmth. And judging by the laughter, the empty platesshed given them that.
Tomorrow, Emily would be a married woman. But their bond wouldnt weaken. If anything, it would grow. Because now, Margaret wasnt just a mother. She was a mother-in-law. And that was a role she intended to cherish.
