My son lives here, so I shall too, said the motherinlaw as she crossed the threshold of the flat.
Lets go to the market on Saturday for seedlings, suggested Emily, pouring tea for her husband. Well buy tomatoes for the garden, some cucumbers.
Andrew gave a halfsmile, scrolling through the news on his phone.
Sounds good. Lets set off early, otherwise the queues will be endless.
Deal, Emily sat opposite him. And maybe we could pop to the cinema in the evening? Theres a new film Ive been meaning to see.
Andrew glanced up from the screen, his eyes warm.
Of course, love. We havent had a proper night out together in ages.
Emily sighed contentedly. Such evenings quiet, weekend plans, no rush had become their ritual over eight years of marriage, a gentle harmony they cherished.
The phone rang. Andrew glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing.
Mums calling. Odd, she rarely bothers at this hour.
Answer it, Emily prompted.
Hello, Mum, Andrew switched to speaker. Whats wrong?
Andrew, darling, I have news! Eleanors voice burst with excitement. Ive sold my flat!
Emily and Andrew exchanged a startled glance.
Sold it? Andrew stammered. You never mentioned you were looking to sell.
It just happened, Eleanor babbled. My neighbour Tamara said her nephew needs a place. He offered a good price, I agreed. The moneys in the bank; well sign the papers tomorrow.
Mum, wait, Andrew rubbed his nose. Where will you live?
You have a spare flat, dont you? Eleanor answered as if it were obvious. Ill be there tomorrow with my bags.
A chill ran through Emilys chest. She looked at Andrew, who seemed lost for words.
Mum, can we discuss this calmly? he finally managed. Come over and well talk.
Theres nothing to discuss, Eleanors tone turned metallic. Im your mother, I have nowhere else to go. Ill be off now, too many chores. See you tomorrow!
The line clicked.
Shes joking, right? Emily whispered.
Im not sure, Andrew ran a hand through his hair. Mum can be impulsive. Maybe shell explain everything tomorrow.
Emily knew Eleanor well enough to read the seriousness in her voice. When her mother said she would move in, it meant exactly that.
That night Emily lay awake, the future unfurling like a surreal tapestry: Eleanor bustling in her kitchen, in the living room, handing out endless advice. She turned over in the bed while Andrew slept soundly beside her.
Morning found Emily shattered and exhausted. Andrew had already left for work, leaving a note: Emily, dont worry. Well talk with Mum this evening. Love you.
Emily crumpled the paper. It was easy for him to say dont worry when his mother was about to upend their lives.
At the office she drifted, unable to focus. A colleague, Laura, noticed her gloom.
Emily, whats got you down?
Emily recounted the call.
Oh dear, Laura shook her head. My sister had the same thing. Her mother moved in; they split after three months.
Dont scare me, Emilys heart pounded.
Im not scaring you, Im being honest, Laura said sympathetically, placing a hand on Emilys shoulder. But perhaps yours will be different. Maybe your motherinlaw is reasonable?
Emily managed a bitter smile. Reasonable was a word Eleanor never used; she believed only she could master the art of stew, the washing, the whole household. Every visit felt like a tribunal of critiques.
That evening Emily arrived home earlier than usual, hoping for a quiet moment before the inevitable arrival. She walked through each room as if saying goodbye to an old life: the cosy bedroom, the living room where theyd watched films, the kitchen where she loved to cook.
The lock clicked. Andrew stepped in, followed by Emily froze.
My son lives here, so I shall too, Eleanor declared as she entered.
Behind her stood a mover with a massive suitcase, and two more bags and boxes littered the hallway.
Hello, Emily, Eleanor planted a kiss on Emilys cheek. Im here. Andrew, show me where I can settle.
Andrew glanced at his wife, guilt written on his face.
Mum, maybe we should talk first? Have a cup of tea?
Well talk later, Eleanor waved him off, fatigue in her voice. Show me the room, please.
We only have two rooms, mum, Andrew began. The bedroom and the sitting room.
Then the sitting room shall be mine, Eleanor said as if it were commonsense. Is the sofa a pullout? Perfect. Young man, she turned to the mover, place everything in that room.
Emily stood, stunned, as the living room, their sanctuary for guests and quiet evenings, was claimed.
Mum, she said firmly, can we discuss this? You didnt ask us, didnt get our permission.
Eleanor turned, her eyes cold with authority.
Dear, this is my sons flat. Im his mother. I need no ones consent.
But Im his wife! Emily burst out.
Exactly, wife, Eleanor emphasized. And I am mother, blood of the same line.
Andrew hovered between them, pale and silent. Emily waited for him to defend her, but he remained mute.
Fine, Eleanor paid the mover and closed the door behind him. When shall we have dinner?
I havent cooked, Emily muttered through clenched teeth.
No matter, Eleanor marched to the kitchen. Ill make something myself. You two survive on ready meals, I suppose?
In the hallway, Emily fought back tears, pressing her forehead to the wall.
Why did you stay silent? Why didnt you tell her she cant just move in?
Shes my mother, Andrew said helplessly, running a hand through his hair. She has nowhere else. She sold her flat.
And she didnt ask us? Emilys voice trembled. What money will she use to buy a new place?
She invested it somewhere, I think, Andrew stammered.
Emily closed her eyes, realizing Eleanor had not only sold her home but vanished the proceeds into an unknown venture.
From the kitchen came the clatter of pots and Eleanors disgruntled mutterings.
No proper saucepan! How can anyone cook in this?
Emily fled to the bedroom, slammed the door, and collapsed onto the bed. For the first time in eight years she wanted to pack her things and leave. But where? And why should she abandon the home shed built?
An hour later Eleanor called them to dinner. The table was set with steaming bowls of borscht.
Sit down while its hot, she ordered. Andrew, slice the bread.
Andrew obeyed. Emily ate in silence; the soup smelled lovely but lodged nowhere in her throat.
Not eating? Eleanor asked. Not hungry?
Just not hungry, Emily replied.
Strange, Eleanor sipped. A working woman should eat well. Perhaps youre on a diet? You could stand to lose a few pounds.
Emily clenched her fists beneath the table. The nightmare had begun.
Mum, Andrew said, trying to be supportive. Emily looks lovely.
I didnt say anything bad, Eleanor protested, hurt. I just worry. You want your wife to look pretty, dont you?
She already is, Andrew muttered, turning red.
After dinner Eleanor announced a thorough cleaning for the next morning, claiming the flat hadnt been tidied properly in weeks.
Emily grit her teeth. She cleaned every Saturday; the surfaces gleamed.
Its clean, she said.
Thats just your perception, dear, Eleanor smiled condescendingly. My standards are higher. Remember?
Andrew nodded wearily.
In the bedroom, Emily finally let the tears flow. Andrew tried to hug her, his arms awkward.
Please, dont cry. Its temporary,
How long? A month? A year? Forever?
I dont know, he admitted. Well figure something out.
You didnt stand up for me when she mentioned losing weight,
I said youre beautiful!
Only after she brought it up! Emily snapped, pulling away. This is my flat too. I wont let you treat me like a servant!
Andrew tried to smooth things over, but Emilys words cut deep.
Then she should stay in her own flat! Emily shouted, realizing there was no other place for Eleanor. Choose her or me.
Emily, thats absurd, Andrew frowned. I love you, but shes my mother. I cant throw her out.
And I shouldnt have to endure her antics?
Shes just worried,
—
The next morning the vacuum roared at half past six. It was Saturday, their day off.
Emily, in a robe, entered the hallway to find Eleanor in an apron, battling the machine in the living room.
Good morning! Eleanor shouted over the noise. Up early, making the most of the day!
Its half past six, Mum, Emily tried to stay calm. Its the weekend; you could have waited.
Early bird catches the worm! Eleanor chirped, recalling an old saying. In my day we rose with the sun.
Emily ignored the chatter, retreated to the bedroom, where Andrew was already awake.
Your mum, Emily muttered, vacuuming at seven on a Saturday.
Andrew winced.
Ill speak to her,
he said, pulling a pillow over his head.
But Eleanor finished cleaning before they could breakfast. She surveyed the living room, pleased.
Heres the spread, she announced, pointing to a tower of golden pancakes. Emily, want some tea?
Emily nodded silently. The pancakes smelled divine.
Andrew, pass me one, he said, reaching for a pancake.
Absolutely, Eleanor beamed. I used my secret family recipe. Remember the Sunday pancakes?
I do, Andrew smiled.
Emily sipped tea, remembering the pancakes she could make herself.
By the way, Eleanor said, sitting opposite, I need to sort the bathroom. Towels are a mess, cosmetics everywhere. Ill fix it.
Its fine as is, Emily replied coldly.
Oh honey, youll learn, Eleanor said sweetly. I have a few tricks left.
Emily rose, saying shed be elsewhere, and slipped into the bedroom, closing the door on the chaos.
An hour later Andrew knocked.
Emily, whats happening? Why are you acting like this?
How am I acting? Emily lifted her gaze. Shes acting as if this is her house!
Shes not doing it out of malice, Andrew tried to explain. She just wants to help.
Help? Emily laughed bitterly. Shes trying to claim my place, prove shes the best housewife, the best wife for you.
Emily, what are you saying? Andrew looked bewildered.
Im saying shes taken over our life, that shell never let us be.
Shes not being cruel, Andrew said, sitting down. She just wants to be useful.
Useful? Emily retorted, voice shaking. In my own home!
Maybe Ive been too soft, Andrew admitted. Ive let her dominate without objecting.
Emily realised his blindness.
I need some space, she whispered.
Andrew shrugged and left. Emily lay on the bed, eyes shut, drifting into a night that felt more nightmare than sleep.
The following days turned nightmarish. Eleanor commandeered the kitchen, preparing every meal, never letting Emily touch a pot.
Rest, dear, she would say. Youre tired from work; Ill handle the house.
Whenever Emily tried to cook, Eleanor swooped in, correcting the cut of the meat, the size of the pot, the pinch of spice. Frustrated, Emily abandoned the stove.
Andrew increasingly sided with his mother.
Emily, why compromise? Shes older, more experienced.
Experienced at what? Emily snapped. At ruining a daughterinlaws life?
Dont say that! Andrew protested. Shes my mother!
Their arguments became daily. Emilys health waned; colleagues asked if she was ill.
Im sick with family drama, she joked darkly.
A month later Eleanor had fully settled: curtains draped the living room, trinkets lined the shelves, even the kitchenware was rearranged to her liking.
One evening Emily returned to find the bedroom furniture shifted.
Whats this? she asked Andrew.
Mum thought it would improve the fengshui, he said sheepishly. For our health.
Fengshui? Emily felt a crack inside. This is our bedroom! The last place I could escape her!
She just wanted what was best
Enough! Emily shouted, her voice cracking. Stop justifying her! Shes taken the whole flat! I have no place of my own!
Emily, calm down, Andrew tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away.
No, I wont calm down! she sobbed. Either she leaves, or I do.
I cant choose between you and my mother, Andrew whispered, pale.
Im not forcing you, Emily said, wiping tears. Im just stating the fact. I cant live with her. Im exhausted.
Andrew released her, sighing heavily.
Fine. Ill speak to her.
Emily walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Eleanor sat at the table, tea in hand, eyes sharp.
So thats it, youre trying to turn my son against me?
I just want my own flat, Emily replied, weary.
Your own? Eleanor sneered. This is my sons flat. Mine, because I gave birth to him, raised him. And you? Just a wife?
Ive been his wife for eight years, Emily said, anger rising. Where were you all those years? Why appear now when you need a roof?
Eleanors face paled.
How dare you! Ive always thought of my son!
Really? Emily asked. When he had pneumonia, were you there? No. When he lost his job, did you help? No. I was there for him.
I didnt know, Eleanor stammered.
Because you never asked, Emily said, voice trembling. You called once a month, asked How are you? and talked about your own woes. Now you move in and dictate how we live!
Silence fell. Eleanor stared at her teacup, hands shaking.
I I didnt know about the pneumonia or the job loss, she began. I was absent.
Because you didnt care, Emily continued. Until you were left without a flat.
Thats not true, Eleanor protested, tears welling. After my husband died I felt lost, isolated. I thought my son didnt need me, that he had his own life.
Of course youre needed, Emily said gently. But you cant just barge in and take over.
Eleanor sniffed, her voice breaking. I was foolish. I thought if I were useful, you wouldnt push me away. I wanted to cook, clean, be needed.
We could have helped, Emily said, softening. We could have found a place for you, but you didnt tell us.
I was ashamed, Eleanor admitted. Ive always been independent, strong. Then I was duped by a business opportunity that vanished, leaving me penniless. I feared telling Andrew, feared looking foolish.
What was the scam? Emily asked.
Nothing, just a promised return that never came, Eleanor said bitterly. I lost everything.
Emily listened, the anger ebbing into pity.
Why didnt you tell us sooner? she asked. We could have offered advice.
I was embarrassed, Eleanor confessed. Id always been the one in control. Now I was helpless, an old woman fooled.
Emilys fury softened further. She reached across the table, laying her hand over Eleanors.
You should have spoken with us like adults, not stormed in and turned our world upside down.
I understand, Eleanor nodded, wiping tears. I was a bull in a china shop.
At that moment Andrew entered, surprised to see them seated together.
Whats happening? he asked cautiously.
Were having a heartThey all laughed together, the kitchen lights flickering like fireflies, and promised to rebuild their lives on a foundation of honest conversation, shared meals, and the gentle understanding that even the strangest dreams can dissolve into a quiet, hopeful morning.
