Dont think Im a nobody, Ian said, his voice low.
Ian, have you thought about me at all? his wife, Emma, asked quietly. I know you love your daughter. Im not trying to cut you off from her but isnt it odd that your ex keeps milking you for cash through the child? Were constantly forced to trim our own comforts because of your former wifes whims. When will it end?
Emma had come home early from work and set the table. It was Friday, which meant the evening would bring Ians elevenyearold daughter, Poppy, from his first marriage. A knock at the door sent Emma hurrying to the hallway. Ian stood there with his stepdaughter. Poppy slipped inside without a glance at Emma, tossed a quick Hey, and vanished into the living room. Ian gave Emma an apologetic look and muttered:
Hey, love. How was your day?
Fine, Emma replied, masking irritation. Come and eat.
A heavy silence settled over the table. Ian tried to lighten the mood, chatting about his day, but Poppy answered in monosyllables or stayed mute, deliberately ignoring Emma. Emma ate in silence, feeling a lump tighten in her throat.
Dad, Mom said she urgently needs money for a new winter coat, Poppy blurted out. Shes got an old one and feels embarrassed going to school with it.
Alright, Poppy, Ian said calmly. Well talk after dinner.
Emmas simmering anger boiled over.
More money, more requests, she thought. How many times can we be asked to dig out our pockets?
After the meal, Ian and Poppy retreated to the girls bedroom for homework. Emma stayed in the kitchen washing up, catching fragments of their conversation.
Dad, you understand she really needs it. Shes the only one supporting us, and that Poppys voice trailed off.
Cant you, as a husband, afford her a new coat? Ian asked timidly.
Dad, what does the husband have to do with it? Hes got no money! I wouldnt ask if things werent dire. Youre a man; you should back her up! And youre my dad! Poppys tone was fierce.
Emma could hold it no longer. She slammed the sponge into the sink and marched to the bedroom.
Ian, we need to talk, she said firmly.
Not now, love, Ian tried to dodge. Were doing homework.
No, now, Emma pressed. Poppy, could you give us a minute?
Poppy pouted but left the room. Emma shut the door tight and turned to Ian.
How long is this going to go on? she demanded.
What are you on about? Ian pretended not to get it.
The money, Ian! Your exwife, Poppy, the whole mess! Were barely getting bywere paying the mortgage, Ive given up everything for you, and you keep sending cash her way! Its absurd!
Its my child, Ian began, defensive. I cant just turn her away.
And what about me? About us? We have needs too! I cant even get my teeth fixed because theres no money!
I get it, Ian said, guiltladen. Ill speak to Olivia
Olivia will never listen! She always gets what she wants! Maybe you should remind her that shes got a husband who also has to look after his own family? Emma snapped.
Dont bring Olivia into this, Ian frowned. Shes a good mother.
A good mother? If she were, she wouldnt dump all her problems on you! She loves it when you foot the bill, Emma retorted.
Enough! Ian exploded. Dont speak about my childs mother like that!
And dont forget you have a real wifesomeone who loves and supports you! Emma shrieked.
I love you, Ian whispered, but I cant abandon my daughter.
So, maybe you should decide who you love more? Emma challenged.
Ian lowered his head, silent.
Why are you shouting? Emma asked, looking at a tearstreaked Emma. Are you fighting?
No, Poppy, Ian answered, trying to calm his daughter. Everythings fine.
No, its not fine! Emma cried. Your father and I are arguing because of you and your mother!
Because of me? Poppy raised an eyebrow.
Yes, because you keep demanding money, because you treat me like an empty space! Emma spat.
What am I supposed to do, love you? Youre nobody to me! Poppy snapped. I have my mum!
Emma felt as if shed been slapped. She stared at Ian, waiting for a response, but he only bowed his head.
You know what, Poppy? Emma said with effort. You can stay here as long as you like, but Im done pretending everythings alright. My patience has run out.
She left the room, leaving Ian and Poppy alone. Closing the bedroom door, Emma grabbed her phone and dialed her friend.
Hi, she choked out, tears spilling. I need to talk.
The next day Emma met her friend at a café in Manchester. She looked pale and barely touched her scone. After listening, her friend asked:
Emma, are you seriously thinking about a split?
I dont know, Emma admitted honestly. I love Ian, but I cant live like this any longer. Hes torn between me and his former family, and I feel like a spare part. Im exhausted.
I get it. But maybe have another go at talking to him? the friend suggested. Explain how you feel, what you need.
Ive told him a thousand times! Emma waved her hand. He seems to understand, but nothing changes. He doesnt want to hurt his daughter, yet he hurts me.
What about Poppy? Have you tried speaking with her? the friend pressed.
Talking to her is useless! Emma shot back. She only listens to her mum and does everything to get under my skin. She doesnt even see me as a person.
You know, children often mimic their parents, the friend noted. Maybe you could try finding common ground with her?
She cant stand me! She ignores me on purpose! Its impossible, Emma snapped.
But what if you give it a shot? the friend persisted. If you show you want to build a relationship, she might change her attitude.
Emma thought it over. The friend had a point: if she wanted to save the marriage, shed have to swallow some pride and try to bridge the gap with the stubborn teenager.
Fine, Emma said finally. Ill try. I dont expect miracles, though
That afternoon, when Ian arrived with Poppy, Emma decided to act. She emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of scones and tea. Poppy was lounging on the sofa, glued to her phone.
Poppy, Emma said, would you like some tea and a scone?
Poppy glanced up, measuring Emma with a dismissive look.
Im not hungry, she replied.
Just have a bite, Emma offered, placing the tray on the table. I baked them myself.
Reluctantly, Poppy took a bite and chewed slowly.
Tasty, she murmured.
Im glad, Emma smiled. Come sit, Ill get you a cup.
Poppy shuffled to the table, still looking a little wary. Moments before, Emma had been shouting at her, and now she was talking gently
Poppy, I wanted to have a chat, Emma began. I know you dont like having me around your dad.
Should I like you? Youre not my mum, Poppy interrupted.
I get that, Emma nodded. Im not trying to replace anyone. I just want peace. Your dad suffers because were at odds.
Poppy stared at her mug in silence.
I know you love your mum a lot, and thats wonderful, Emma continued. But that doesnt mean you have to hate me. I love your dad, too.
Youre lying! Poppy snapped. Youre both always fighting!
We argue because things are hard, Emma admitted, but that doesnt mean we dont care for each other.
She waited, hoping for a reaction. Poppy kept her eyes on the pattern of the tablecloth.
Poppy, Ive never wished you any harm, Emma said softly. I just want us all to be happy. Youre the daughter of the man I love most, you know?
Poppy lifted her head and met Emmas gaze. The hostility seemed to melt away.
Really? she whispered.
Really, Emma replied, swearing on the spot.
Just then Ian walked in, surprised to see Emma and Poppy sitting together in quiet.
Everything okay? he asked.
Were just talking, Emma said, smiling at him.
The evening turned out wonderfully. Poppy enjoyed a game of Twister with her stepmum, and Ian laughed heartily. For the first time, Poppy didnt feel any resentment toward Emma. She proved to be rather nice after all.
