**Friday, 10th May**
“You’re no longer the mistress of this house,” my mother-in-law announced in front of everyone.
“What do you mean, ‘not in the mood’? This is *my* home, and Ill cook what I see fit!” I pulled the marinated meat from the fridge with determination. “Im done catering to her whims. If Antonia doesnt like Peking duck, she can have bread!”
“Olivia,” Simon sighed, rubbing his temples, “you know Mum has stomach issues. The doctor said no spices. Was it too much to make something plain?”
“It’s always the same!” I slammed the dish onto the table. “Last Christmas’nothing salty.’ At Charlies birthday’nothing fried.’ Now’nothing spicy!’ Does anyone ever consider what *I* want? I spent a week perfecting this marinade!”
Seven-year-old Charlie peered into the kitchen. “Mum, Grannys here. And Uncle Tom and Aunt Louise.”
I exhaled, steadying myself. The guests had arrived early, and I wasnt even dressed. The argument with Simon hadnt helped.
“Go greet them,” I told him, forcing a smile. “Ill freshen up and join you.”
Simon hesitated. “Liv, pleaseno arguments tonight. Mum wants us to meet her new husband. Its important to her.”
“I understand,” I lied.
Alone, I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Antonia had been a thorn in my side since Simon and I first met. Six years of marriage, and she still dictated everythinghow to raise Charlie, how to decorate, even what to cook. Simon, raised to believe “Mum knows best,” rarely defended me.
*Fine. Tonights special. Be polite. Maybe if Antonia remarries, shell meddle less.*
I changed into my pre-planned dress, touched up my lipstick, and entered the lounge with my brightest smile.
“Hello, Antonia!” I moved to hug her, but she gave a stiff nod. “Lovely to see you. Tom, Louise, welcome!”
Simons brother and his wife smiled warmly. Beside Antonia stood a strangertall, trim, with a neatly trimmed grey beard. *Not bad for sixty-five. No wonder shes been primping.*
“Meet Edward,” Antonia said, resting a hand on his arm. “My friend.”
“Lets be precise, darling,” he corrected gently. “Husband, as of two weeks ago. Delighted to meet you all. Antonias spoken highly of you.”
Simon and Tom exchanged glances. Clearly, their mothers remarriage was news to them.
“Congratulations!” I recovered first. “How wonderful! Please, sitIll bring the starters.”
Louise followed me to the kitchen and whispered, “Bloody hell! Did you know shed already married him?”
“Not a clue.” I grabbed plates from the cupboard. “Simon looks shell-shocked.”
“Can you blame him?” Louise snorted. “After Dad died, she swore shed never remarry. No man could compare, remember?”
“I remember,” I muttered. “But Im happy for her. Maybe now shell” I trailed off.
“Stop micromanaging you?” Louise finished. “Dont hold your breath. This is Antonia were talking about.”
We returned with trays of appetisers. Charlie was already chatting with Edward, proudly showing off his rock collection.
“I found this one by the river when Dad took me fishing,” he said, pointing. “And this one at school. Lookthis ones shaped like a heart!”
“Marvellous eye,” Edward smiled. “I used to be a geologist. If your parents allow, Id love to show you my collection sometime.”
I blinked. Antonia had never let *anyone* bond with Charlie so easilyshe guarded her “special granny” status fiercely.
“Dinners ready in half an hour,” I announced.
“Whats the main course?” Antonia asked, settling at the head of the tableher usual spot.
“Peking duck,” I said evenly. “And potato gratin.”
“Duck?” She pursed her lips. “You know I cant have spices. And in this heat? A light chicken salad wouldve been better.”
“Its not spicy, Mum,” Simon lied smoothly. “Olivia left out the chilli.”
I shot him a grateful lookhis first real stand for me in years.
“And I steamed a plain chicken breast for you,” I added.
“How thoughtful,” Antonia said drily. “Though steamed chicken is rather dull for guests.”
“Antonia,” Edward chided gently, “Olivias gone to great effort. Lets enjoy the evening.”
She glared but stayed quiet. Tom raised his glass. “A toast to the newlyweds!”
The mood lightened. Edward was a brilliant storyteller, and even Antonia seemed to soften.
Later, as I plated the duckgolden, fragrant, garnished with orangeI allowed a flicker of pride.
Back in the lounge, Antonia was criticising our flat. “Ours has a *park view*. Edward insisted on renovationsfar nicer than this.”
“Our place suits us,” Simon said firmly. “Olivia designed it herself.”
“For a *young* couple, I suppose its adequate,” Antonia sniffed.
I bit my tongue and served the duck to murmurs of praiseeven from Antonia, though she added, “Well see how it tastes.”
“Its brilliant!” Tom said through a mouthful.
“Absolutely delicious,” Edward agreed. “Antonia, you must get the recipe.”
“Im allergic to duck,” she announced, pushing her bland chicken around. “And this is tasteless. Not even salted.”
“Mum,” Simon said patiently, “the doctor said *no* salt.”
“But its *flavourless*! You couldve used herbs”
“I followed the doctors orders *exactly*,” I cut in.
She waved me off. “Id rather not eat at all.”
Silence fell. Charlie, sensing tension, asked, “Granny, will you really move away?”
“Well visit often, darling,” Antonia cooed. “Youll have your own room with us. Edward will teach you chess”
“But I want to stay *here*,” Charlie frowned.
“Of course you will,” I said firmly.
“Olivia,” Antonia snapped, “this is between me and my grandson.”
“Hes *my son*,” I said, voice steady.
“*Your* son?” Her eyes flashed. “Hes a *Harrington* first. As the family matriarch, *I* decide whats best for him.”
“Mum,” Simon warned.
“No, were settling this!” she spat. “Six years Ive watched you coddle him! No discipline, no routinehes *seven* and barely reads!”
“Thats *not true*!”
“Who helps with his homework? Who takes him to piano? *Me!* Youd be glued to your phone otherwise!”
“Thats *enough*!” I stood, shaking. “Youve crossed a line.”
“Antonia, this is unfair,” Edward said.
“Stay out of it!” She turned to Simon. “We have a *three-bedroom* now. Charlie will live with us.”
“*What?*” My blood ran cold.
“He needs *proper* upbringing!” She rose. “Youre no longer mistress here, Olivia. *Im* taking charge!”
The room froze. Even Simon looked stunned.
“Choose,” I said, icy calm. “Her or us. Now.”
“Liv, dont”
“Im waiting.”
Antonia scoffed. “Simon, youre really picking *her* over your mother?”
“Im picking *my family*,” he said, taking my hand. “If you want to be part of it, youll respect my wife. Otherwise, were done.”
Edward sighed. “Antonia, apologise.”
“*Traitors*!” She snatched her purse. “Tom? Are *you* siding with them?”
Tom coughed. “Erwere staying for dessert. Olivia made cheesecake”
With a final glare, Antonia stormed out.
Later, after Charlie was asleep, Simon and I sat at the kitchen table.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I shouldve done it years ago,” he admitted. “Its hard, standing up to her.”
“I know. But today you were *amazing*.”
“You think shell forgive us?”
“In time.” I squeezed his hand. “Well set boundaries. Shes familybut she doesnt run *our* lives anymore.”
He smiled. “Feels like a weights lifted.”
“Me too.”
The next morning, Edward called. Antonia wanted to apologisewhen we were ready.
But thats another story.
