We dont want you at the wedding, my children told me.
Mum, honestly, why are you washing those plates again? Theyre already spotless! Emily sighed, watching her mother scrub the same china for the fourth time.
What if the guests notice watermarks? Margaret squinted, holding a plate up to the light. Its a weddingeverything must be perfect.
No ones going to inspect the plates, Mum! Theyll be too busy admiring the bride and groom. Youve been in the kitchen for hours, Emily stepped closer, arms open for a hug, but Margaret shifted away.
Dont fuss, love. The salads arent ready, the cake still needs decorating. Theres no time.
Shaking her head, Emily left. In the living room, her fiancé, Thomas, fidgeted with his tie.
Is your mum really up to this? Maybe we shouldve booked a restaurant, he whispered.
Too late noweveryones coming here. She insisted on hosting. Says restaurants dont feel right, Emily took his hand. Just bear with her, sweetheart. She means well.
Thomas nodded, though doubt flickered in his eyes. Margaret had spent three months preparingstudying recipes, shopping for ingredients, obsessing over details. At first, Emily had loved her enthusiasm, but lately, her mother had grown snappish, lost in her own worries.
Emily! Come taste the salad! Margaret called from the kitchen.
Sighing, Emily returned to find her mother holding out a spoon. Does it need more salt? I cant tell.
Mum, its fine! Youve asked ten times already!
Well, pardon me for trying! Margaret turned away, lips trembling. I just want everything to be perfect. I dont want Thomass parents thinking were that we dont measure up.
Emily rested her hands on Margarets shoulders. Mum, whats gotten into you? His parents are lovely. They wont care how much mayos in the salad.
Wont they? Margaret spun around. Did you hear what his mother said yesterday? Oh, we always had smoked salmon at home. Smoked salmon! And all Ive got is prawn cocktail
She didnt mean anything by it, Emily insisted. It was just nostalgia.
Oh, please! I hear how they whisper. Margarets so modest. Should I be ashamed? I raised you alone after your father left!
Emily fell silent. Old wounds always flared when Margaret felt judged.
No ones judging you, Mum. Everyone knows how hard youve worked.
Do they? Margaret scoffed. Thomass parents have a four-bed house, a new car. What do I have? A semi-detached and a homemade buffet.
I dont care about their house! Im marrying Thomas, not his parents!
Just then, Thomas appeared, drawn by raised voices. Everything alright?
Fine! Margaret wiped her hands on her apron. Just finalising the menu.
He glanced around. Platters of finger food, salads, and simmering dishes covered the counter. The kitchen smelled heavenly.
Margaret, this is incredible. My parents will be blown away.
Oh, stop, she mumbled, though her cheeks pinked.
No, truly. Restaurant foods so impersonalthis has heart.
For the first time that day, Margaret smiled.
Tea, Thomas? Or coffee? Ill brew a fresh pot.
Mum, guests arrive in an hour, Emily reminded her. You still need to change.
Goodness, youre right! Margaret gasped. I havent ironed my dress or done my hair!
Go showerIll finish here, Emily said, taking the apron.
Dont touch the cake! Margaret called over her shoulder. Ill ice it properly!
Thomas pulled Emily close. Your mums really stressing. How can we help?
She wont let us. She has to control every detailterrified well mess up.
But why?
She wants to impress your parents. Its always been just usshes used to proving shes enough.
Thomas thought for a moment. What if I ask my parents to praise her cooking? Say they prefer home-cooked meals?
Would you?
Of course. 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 lilac dress, hair elegantly pinned. Do I look alright?
Stunning! Thomas beamed.
Absolutely gorgeous, Emily agreed, hugging her.
Margaret blushed, smoothing her skirt. Oh! The cakeI forgot the icing roses!
Mum, guests are already at the door! Emily peered out the window. Its beautiful as it is!
Thomas chimed in, Honestly, its perfect. Lets greet everyonewell handle the rest.
Thomass parents arrived first. His mother, Elizabetha poised woman in a tailored dressglanced around the room. Margaret stiffened, awaiting judgment.
How cosy! Elizabeth smiled. You can tell a family lives here.
Relieved, Margaret ushered them in. Please, help yourselves!
As guests trickled in, laughter filled the house. Margaret flitted between rooms, refilling drinks, ensuring no plate was empty.
Margaret, join us! Thomass father, Henry, beckoned. Youre the hostesswe barely see you!
Oh, theres too much to do
Nonsense! Henry insisted. Sit with us.
Hesitantly, Margaret perched on a chair.
Did you make this coronation chicken? Elizabeth asked.
Yes, I
Its divine! Would you share the recipe?
Margaret flushed with pride. Its nothing specialjust a pinch of curry powder, really
And the trifle! a friend exclaimed. Margaret, its a masterpiece!
Absolutely, Henry agreed. My wife mostly reheats ready mealsthis is proper home cooking.
Margaret blossomed, sharing tips as guests listened eagerly.
Mums transformed, Emily whispered to Thomas.
She just needed to feel valued, he replied.
Later, Elizabeth took Margaret aside. Youve raised a wonderful daughter. Thomas adores herit shows she grew up loved.
Tears welled in Margarets eyes. I did my best.
And it shows. Shes kind, capablethe sort of daughter-in-law every mother dreams of.
Margaret glowed.
By evening, only the three remained. Margaret sank into an armchair, slipping off her heels.
Well, Mum? Emily asked.
I worried for nothing, Margaret admitted. Thomass parents are so kind.
Told you!
Thomas kissed her hand. Thank you for tonight, Margaret. Mums already stolen three of your recipes.
Margaret laughed. Theyre nothing special.
They arebecause theyre made with love.
Margaret hugged them both. Be happy, my dears.
As she washed up, Margaret reflected. Shed feared being judged, but love and effort mattered more than luxury. Tomorrow, Emily would start a new chapterbut their bond would only deepen.
After all, the truest riches werent in wealth, but in the hearts of those who mattered most.
