Martha froze in the doorway, the cake wobbling in her hands as if it might tumble to the floor. Her mother stared at her with a cold disapproval, as though Olivia had committed some unforgivable sin.
Mother, what are you on about? Olivia set the cake carefully on the kitchen table. What does Sam have to do with this?
This is exactly why it matters, her mother snapped, voice rising. Hes already in Year7 and still at a regular state school! No specialist tracks, no advanced programmes. How on earth will he get into a respectable university? How will he ever achieve anything?
Olivia bit her lip. The argument followed the same wellworn script, and a hot surge of injustice flared in her chest.
Mother, Sam is doing well. He gets fivegrades in most subjects, has a maths tutor, and wants to become a programmer like his father.
Thats precisely the point! her mother flared, waving her hands. Programming! Sitting behind a computer like your brother Sam. A dull job, a dull salary. And you? A teacher, a tutor, scraping together pennies. Do you even feed your child properly?
Olivia clenched her fists. Her mothers words struck the most tender spots. Yes, she and Sams father hadnt been affluent; they had to count every pound. But Sam grew up happy.
Our life is fine. And Sam is happy.
Happy, is it? her mother snorted, moving to the window. Victors son, Arthur, now thats a real treasure. Hes at a school that offers an intensive English programme from the first year. Imagine thatfluent English at ten! Victor and Lena are brilliant; they spare no expense for their child.
Olivia listened in silence. Her brother had always been the golden child. Hed launched a small business, bought a bigger flat, and his wife Lena stayed at home to look after the house and their boy. Every time her mother found a chance, she set them against Olivias family.
Arthur is a gifted boy! her mother continued, tone softening. Hell surely make something of himself. Victor says theyll send him abroad for language courses at thirteen. Thats true foresight, thats a future worth having. Not this ordinary school of yours.
Olivia stepped closer, feeling her mothers shoulders tense, her face set in steel.
Mother, I understand you want grandsons who shine. But Sam isnt worse than Arthur. He just walks a different path.
Different paths! her mother snapped, turning sharply. One leads up, to success. The other drifts in mediocrity and poverty. Is that what you want for your son? To live in want?
Something inside Olivia contracted.
Mother, were not poor. We live within our means. Sam will grow into a good mansmart, kind, hardworking.
Hardworking! her mother huffed. Thats not enough in this world, dear. You need connections, money, a prestigious education. What does Sam have? A regular school and a motherteacher who can barely keep the lights on.
Olivia turned away. The cake before her, adorned with fresh berries and baked with love, now seemed pointless.
Mother, Im not going to argue. We raise our son the way we think is right, and hes happy.
The future is what matters! her mother pressed closer. Youre ruining him with your carelessness. Victor knows what it takes. Hes doing everything so Arthur becomes someone of note. And you just drift along.
Olivia shook her head. Arguing was futile. Her mother was set in her ways, and nothing could shift that conviction.
Fine, mother. Lets just have lunch. Sam and Sam will be here soon.
As expected, the meal unfolded under a taut atmosphere. Her mother bragged about Arthurs achievements, Victors pride spilling over. Sam ate in silence, eyes flicking toward his grandmother. Olivia forced a smile, trying to convince herself that everything was okay.
After that lunch Olivia resolved to keep contact with her mother to a minimum. The constant comparisons were too painful to endure. She still called her mother and Victor on holidays, sent polite greetings, but she stopped arranging family gatherings. Her mother took offense, yet Olivia held firm. She had to shield her son from that toxicity.
Years passed. Sam grew, studied, and fell in love with programming. Occasionally Olivia heard from her mother about Victors family. Arthur graduated with a gold medal, entered a prestigious universitythough not without his fathers connections.
Sam also finished school, earned a place at a reputable technical college on a bursary, passed his exams honestly, and by his third year was working for a modest IT firm. Olivia beamed with pride; Sams brother Sam was proud too. Yet her mother kept waxing lyrical about Arthur alone.
More years slipped by. The children were approaching thirty. For her mothers birthday, the whole family gathered. Victor and Lena arrived, and Arthur appeareda tall, handsome man with an effortlessly cool haircut. Hed left his university job early, claiming he wanted to pursue music, form a band. Victor had funded the equipment. Two years later the band was still undiscovered; Arthur lived at home, idle, earning nothing.
Olivia watched her mother glow as she embraced Arthur, patting his head, asking about his musical projects. He answered lazily, scrolling his phone, yawning. Her mother, oblivious to his indifference, still saw him as the golden grandson.
Sam sat beside his wife, Anna, who was four months pregnant. He worked for a major IT corporation, earned a good salary, rented a flat, and was saving for his own home. Yet his grandmother seemed unable to acknowledge his success.
Olivia saw Sams father tense his jaw, Sams brother Sam clenching his teeth, Anna looking worried. Still, Sam smiled, gently stroking Annas hand. Evening stretched on. Her mother regaled the guests with stories of Arthurs destined fame. Arthur nodded indulgently. Olivia remained silent.
Finally the night drew to a close. Sam, Anna, and Sam were the first to leave, saying theyd wait at the car. Olivia was fastening a scarf in the hallway when her mother moved toward her.
Olivia, wait a moment. I need to tell you something.
Olivia froze. Her mothers voice was low, but gravely serious.
Your Sam is dull, Olivia. Grey, ordinary. Just like you and Sam. No spark at all. Arthur, on the other hand, is a genius, a star. Hell prove it to everyone. Your son simply lives, works, marries, will have a child. Theres nothing remarkable about that. He blends in with millions of others.
Olivia stared at her mother, feeling something inside shatter.
She exhaled slowly, met her mothers eyes.
Mother, Ive thought about this for a long time. I imagined you wanted me to be a better mother, to push Sam harder, to invest more in him. I believed your criticism came from a good place, that you wanted to spur me on.
Her mother frowned, but Olivia lifted her hand.
But the truth is simpler. You never loved my son. All this time you showed it through endless comparisons, through praise for Arthur, through constant criticism of me. You didnt want him to be better; you wanted me to know that, in your eyes, my son wasnt good enough.
Her mothers face went pale. Olivia calmly buttoned her coat.
And you know what? My son is the best. Intelligent, kind, diligent, decent. Hes grown into an ideal man. Hell soon be a father and a wonderful one, because I never let him hear that, to you, he was an unwanted grandchild. I protected him from your poison, Mother. I did everything to let him grow up happy.
Her mother stared, eyes wide and unblinking. Olivia gathered her bag.
Your opinions about me, Sam, and our son can stay with you. Im done listening. Ive wasted years trying to prove we deserve your love. No more. Live as you wish, love whom you like. Im washing my hands of this game. Ill soon have my own grandchild, and Ill love him the way a granny should.
Olivia left the flat, closed the door behind her, and descended to the car where her husband, Sam, and his wife, Anna, waited. Sam hugged her, Sam smiled. She settled into the passenger seat, leaning back. A strange, unfamiliar calm settled over her, as if a mountain of weight had finally been lifted. No more pretence, no more trying to fit anyones mold, no more proving herself.
It had taken years, but at last she was free from her mothers judgment. She possessed what truly mattered: a real family. And that was all any person could ever need.
