My motherinlaw is going to live with us. I dont fancy that, my husband said, slamming the door so hard the chandelier in the hallway rattled.
The tea in my mug had long since gone cold, and I, Rosie, sat motionless at the kitchen table, unable to summon the strength to move. My husbands words, uttered as he left for work, replayed in my mind like a record stuck on the same groove.
My motherinlaw will be living with us. I dont like it, Nicholas had said, his voice flat as the door swung shut.
In our twentythree years together he had never spoken to me in such a cold, detached tone. Arguments and spats had happened, but never this icy, distant manner. It felt as if a stranger, not my husband, stood before me.
I rose, carried the cold cup to the sink and walked over to the window. From the ninthfloor flat we could see a goldenbrown autumn park stretching below. Nicholas and I had chosen this flat together, scrimping and saving, denying ourselves many comforts. The threebedroom, spacious flat a sitting room and two bedrooms had been our dream. One for us, one for the children well have, we had whispered. Children never came. The second bedroom became Nicholass study, where he toiled late into the night, bringing home paperwork from the office.
Now that very room was to be occupied by Evelyn, his mother.
Evelyn had always been a formidable woman domineering, accustomed to controlling everything. Nicholas, her only child, was a lateborn son, the product of hope that had long since faded. She adored him to the point of obsession, hovering over every step he took. When he announced his intention to marry me, Evelyn smiled at the wedding, but her eyes remained cold.
In the early years after the wedding Evelyn lived her own life, teaching mathematics at a local school, visiting us only occasionally. Three weeks ago she suffered a mild stroke. She recovered quickly, yet the doctors insisted she could no longer live alone and needed constant supervision.
I had no objection to helping Evelyn, suggesting we hire a livein carer. Nicholas flatout refused I wont let anyone else into my mothers house. Yesterday evening he declared that his mother would move in with us, without consulting me, presenting it as a fait accompli. This morning, when I timidly tried to object, he unleashed that dreadful line again.
The phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts. The screen displayed a familiar name.
Hey, Megan, I heard my friends weary voice.
Rosie, you sound as if youre not happy to hear me, she replied, concern threading her tone. Whats happened?
My motherinlaw is moving in, I said, sinking onto the sofa. Nicholas just put it in front of me. He said take it or leave.
Good grief! Megan gasped. Whens the move?
This Saturday. Nicholas has already booked the removal men. Theyll haul her bed, wardrobe, armchair I covered my eyes. You know how we get along. How will we live under the same roof?
Yes, she sighed. I remember her reprimanding you at your birthday last year for oversalting the soup, in front of all the guests.
Exactly, I said bitterly. Now imagine that every day.
What if you spoke to Nicholas calmly, without emotion? Explain your worries.
I tried. He wont listen. He says the decisions made and theres nothing to discuss.
Then perhaps you could talk to Evelyn herself? Start with a clean slate? After all, shes an elderly woman, and things are hard for her now.
I hesitated. A clean slate after years of mutual dislike? Would she see any overture as weakness?
Unless you try, youll never know, Megan mused. How about we meet this evening? We can sit in the café and chat, get your mind off things.
Alright, I agreed. The Aqua Café at seven?
Deal. And dont worry itll sort itself out.
Hanging up, I felt a small lift. Megan had always been my rock. Wed been friends since school, surviving first loves, university admissions, weddings, and heartbreaks. Shed endured a divorce; Id faced several failed attempts at motherhood. Wed always been there for each other in the toughest moments.
Now I had to decide what to do. Walk away? But where to go? My whole life was tied to this house and to Nicholas. Despite our quarrels, I loved my husband and knew he loved me. He was now torn between his wife and his mother, and he had chosen his mother. Could I blame him?
That evening at the café Megan listened, propping her chin on her hand, nodding occasionally, asking questions.
So, what have you decided? she asked once I finished.
Nothing yet, I admitted, stirring the lukewarm tea. I cant simply walk away after all these years.
Of course not, she replied. But you cant live in constant tension either. I know Evelyn well. Shell monitor your every move, critique everythingfrom the soup to the hairdo.
I know, I sighed. I just dont see a way forward.
What if you compromise? Find her a flat nearby, visit each day, help with chores?
I suggested that, I shook my head. Nicholas said no. Mum must live with us. Its sacrosanct.
Alright, Megan thought aloud. Maybe you really should try to mend things with Evelyn, for the sake of the family.
How? I asked, my eyes tired. Ive tried for years. She thinks I stole her son.
Try a different approach, she advised, leaning closer. Not as a daughterinlaw, but as a daughter. After all, she has no one else. Shes a retired teacher, lonely, still recovering from a stroke. Perhaps shes just scared of being alone.
For the first time I saw Evelyn not as a rival but as a solitary soul in need of support.
Maybe youre right, I finally said. It cant get any worse.
Good. Start small. Invite her over for tea before the move, discuss how to organise the space so it works for everyone.
Returning home, I found Nicholas in the lounge, hunched over his laptop, frowning at some documents. He looked up as I entered.
Hello, he said uncertainly, as if bracing for my reaction.
Good evening, I replied, shedding my coat and heading toward the kitchen.
He followed.
Tanya, we need to talk, he began at the doorway, watching me pull cups from the cupboard. I I was hotheaded this morning. I shouldnt have spoken that way.
You were right to do so, I answered calmly, setting the kettle on.
But you understand I cant leave Mum alone, he said, moving closer. After what happened
I understand, I turned to him. Im not suggesting she stays by herself. But you could have discussed it with me first, instead of dumping it on me.
Youre right, he lowered his eyes. I just knew youd oppose it and I was scared, I suppose.
Im not against helping your mother, I said gently. Im just afraid we wont get along under one roof. You know how strained our relationship is.
I know, he sighed. I hope you both can find common ground. For me. For us.
I looked at his greying temples, the lines around his eyes, and remembered how hed courted me at university, how wed dreamed of a future on a bench in HydePark. Twentythree years together was no small thing.
Ill try, I said finally. But you must help me. Dont leave me alone with her. Be a mediator. And if anything goes wrong, we discuss it together. Deal?
Deal, Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief and embraced me. Thank you, Rosie. I knew youd understand.
The next day I called Evelyn and invited her for tea. She was surprised but accepted. I arranged a taxi, as after her stroke she avoided public transport.
At three oclock the doorbell rang. Evelyn stood on the doorstep, upright as a reed despite her frailty, her silver hair neatly pinned, her eyes sharp.
Good afternoon, Evelyn, I managed a smile. Please, come in.
Good afternoon, Rosie, she replied dryly, stepping inside. Is Nicholas at work?
Yes, hell be late tonight. Hes finishing a project.
He never looks after himself, she muttered, removing her coat. Always the same, from his fathers days.
I led her to the sitting room where a tray of tea, scones, and fruit waited. She settled into an armchair, scanning the room.
New curtains? she asked.
Yes, just last autumn, I poured her tea. How are you feeling? Nicholas mentioned youre getting better.
Fine, she said, taking a sip. Weakness remains, and my blood pressure spikes. The doctor says Im recovering well for my age.
Silence fell. I hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject of her moving in.
Im preparing the room for you, she said finally, eyes fixed on me. Nicholas told me Ill be staying in his study.
Yes, I nodded. Weve cleared it out.
I know you dont like it, she continued, her voice softer than before. You could deny it, but I sense youre opposed.
I blinked, surprised by her candour.
I Im worried well clash, I admitted. Were very different.
Different, indeed, she agreed. Youre young, modern. Im an oldfashioned lady. But theres no choice. Nicholas has decided, so it must be.
There was a weariness in her tone I hadnt heard before, perhaps even a hint of fear.
Evelyn, perhaps we could try to get along, for Nicholass sake, I ventured. We both love him.
She lifted her head, curiosity flickering. We both love him, each in our own way, she murmured, then added, I suggested Nicholas hire a carer and keep me in my flat, but he insisted I move in with you.
I know, I said, feeling a strange kinship. Hes stubborn when it comes to family.
Stubborn as a mule, she laughed unexpectedly. Our family is full of them.
For the first time in years, her words felt almost friendly.
Lets make an agreement, I said firmly. Youll have your own room to rest and watch television. Ill continue cooking, but if you have any special requests, just tell me.
She listened, nodding.
I wont interfere in your marriage, I continued. But please, dont criticize me in front of Nicholas. If you have concerns, speak to me directly.
Fair enough, she replied. Ill agree. And I could help around the house a little. I can sort grains, peel vegetables, maybe knit. I cant stand at the stove much any more, my legs give out.
I know, I smiled. Nicholas still keeps the sweater you knitted for his graduation.
Really? her eyes widened. He still has it?
He treasures anything that comes from you, I assured her.
We talked for an hour, finally having a genuine conversation without barbs or hidden accusations. I spoke of my work at the library and my plans to start a readers club. Evelyn reminisced about former pupils, some now grandparents themselves.
When it was time for her to leave, she hesitantly took my hand.
Thank you for the tea, she said. And for the chat. Ill try not to be a burden.
Youll be fine, I replied, helping her into her coat. Well manage.
Later that night Nicholas returned, eyes wide at the sight of us together.
Did you really talk without fighting? he asked, shaking his head.
It seems so, I said, smiling. Your mums an interesting conversationalist. She worries about being a nuisance, but shes not impossible.
I told you, he said, pulling me into an embrace. All you needed was to get to know each other. Im sorry for the way I forced the decision on you.
Its behind us now, I murmured against his chest. Just promise well discuss any major decisions together, okay? Were a family.
I promise, he said earnestly.
Saturday came, and the move began. Evelyn arrived with a modest collection her bed, a favourite armchair, a few boxes of books and photo albums. I helped her unpack the former study, now her bedroom.
This is very cosy, she observed, looking around. Thank you for making space.
Its yours now, I replied. Make yourself at home.
That evening the three of us sat down to dinner. Nicholas told jokes from work, Evelyn recalled his childhood mischief, and I, for the first time in a long while, felt a strange peace settle over me.
It wasnt all smooth sailing. Within the first week Evelyn criticised the way I ironed Nicholass shirts. She later apologised, recalling our pact. Minor spats erupted over the television volume, the heating, the open windows. Gradually, though, we found compromises. Evelyn learned to knock before entering a room. I began preparing simpler meals suitable for her ailing stomach. Nicholas took on the role of peacemaker whenever tensions rose.
One month later, I found Evelyn in the lounge, leafing through an old photo album.
May I join you? I asked.
Of course, she said, sliding the album over. Look, heres Nicholas in third grade, winning a maths Olympiad.
How serious he was, I chuckled.
Hes always been responsible, just like his father, Victor. Victor died when Nicholas was fifteen a sudden heart attack. No one expected it. She turned the page to a wedding photograph of a young bride in white and a man in a crisp suit. That was us on our wedding day.
You were beautiful, I said sincerely.
We were, once, she smiled ruefully. Time takes its toll wrinkles, grey hair After Victors death I swore Id never let anyone close again, fearing the pain of loss. I think I overprotected Nicholas.
And then I appeared she continued, her tone softening. I saw you as a threat, thought youd take him away. Foolish, I know, but fear is irrational when children are involved.
I understand, I whispered. I bear no ill will.
She stared at me for a long moment. You know what I regret most? she said quietly. That you have no children. Nicholas would make a wonderful father.
Yes, I admitted, eyes dropping. We wanted children so much, but it never happened.
I know, she said, voice gentle. He told me about your attempts, the treatments. He was worried, and I was, too.
Really?
Of course, she nodded. Youre his wife, youre loved by him. I should at least respect you.
Tears welled in my eyes. Thank you. That means a great deal.
When Nicholas arrived home later, he found us at the kitchen table, together, baking an old family apple pie. Evelyn guided the process, and I followed her directions attentively.
Blimey! he exclaimed, stunned. You two are getting along?
Dont exaggerate, Evelyn replied with a grin. Im just teaching your wife how to make a proper apple pie, not that bland mess you usually serve.
Mother! Nicholas protested.
Its all right, I said. Weve agreed to be honest with each other. I really want to learn this pie. It smells wonderful.
He shook his head, still in disbelief.
That night, alone with Nicholas, I whispered, I think things will be okay. It wont be perfect, therell be arguments, misunderstandings, but well manage.
I knew you could find common ground with her, he replied, hugging me. Thank you for your patience, for staying when I said that foolish thing.
And thank you for giving me a chance to know your mother better, I said seriously. Shes difficult, but theres something genuine in her. She loves you dearly.
And I love you both, Nicholas smiled.
That night I lay awake, pondering how easily our family could have shattered over stubbornness and miscommunication, and how vital it is to take a step toward another, even when it feels impossible.
Living under one roof with Evelyn wont be easy, but now I see its possible. Two women, each loving the same man in their own way, can at least learn to respect each otherfor his sake, for theirs, and for themselves. Perhaps, in time, affection will grow. After all, isnt family about accepting each others flaws, learning forgiveness, and finding compromise? Maybe true wisdom lies not in fleeing difficulties, but in gathering the strength to overcome them.
