Since you wont work, youll be cooking for us, declared my motherinlaw the moment she crossed the threshold.
Andrew, I cant take this any longer! Do you even hear me?
Linda stood in the middle of the drawingroom, cradling baby Emily, who sobbed in her arms, while a storm of frustration surged inside her. Andrew lounged on the settee, eyes glued to his phone, pretending not to hear either the childs wail or his wifes pleas.
What now? he said without even looking up.
What now? I havent slept a wink! Emily has a fever, Ive been rocking her all night. And you slept soundly in the guest room, didnt even stir!
I have work tomorrow. I need to rest.
And I dont? Am I a robot, expected to be on my feet twentyfour hours a day?
At last Andrew tore his gaze away from the screen and glared at Linda.
Linda, stop throwing tantrums. Youre home, you can rest during the day. Im working from dawn till dusk to provide for us.
A lump rose in Lindas throat. Home meant endless changes of diapers, sleepless nights, and a constant ache in her bones. She swallowed her pride and, after soothing Emily into quiet, said, Go to bed. I wont bother you any more.
Andrew rose and disappeared into the bedroom without a word to his daughter. Linda sank onto the sofa, pressing the warm little body against her chest. Eightmonthold Emily still woke at every little sound, demanding constant attention, while Lindas strength seemed to drain away completely.
They had married three years earlier, when everything had been different. Andrew had courted her, bringing flowers and compliments. Linda worked as an administrator at a medical centre, while Andrew was a project manager for a construction firm. Their life was modest but happy, until she fell pregnant.
At first Andrew was overjoyed, dreaming of a son and a blissful family. But once Linda went on maternity leave, his involvement dwindled. He spent more time at the office or with his mates, and when Emily was born he almost vanished.
Linda understood that a newborn was a strain for everyonesleeplessness, perpetual crying, exhaustionbut she had hoped they would face it together. Instead Andrew built an invisible wall between them.
After laying Emily in her crib, Linda trudged to the kitchen. It was half past ten, and she had not yet had breakfast. The sink was piled with yesterdays dirty dishes, the stove bore a burnt pot of porridge. She turned on the kettle on autopilot and began washing plates.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Andrew: Motherinlaw and Evelyn are arriving this evening. Theyll stay a week. Have something ready for dinner.
She reread it three times. Motherinlaw and sisterinlaw, a whole week, and not a single question about whether it was convenient.
She replied, Andrew, I have a baby. How can I look after them as well?
His instant reply: Dont worry, just be a good host. Theyre family.
Margaret, the motherinlaw, had always kept a cool distance, convinced that Andrew could have chosen a better match. Evelyn, Andrews sister, was a successful salon owner, proud of her independence, and had once declared that children were a hindrance to a career.
Now those two women would stay in her home for a week.
By evening Linda had managed to tidy the flat, whip up a pot of stew and meatballs, and change Emily into a fresh onesie. She herself was dressed in an old pair of jeans and a rumpled shirtno time for appearances any more.
The doorbell rang precisely at seven. Andrew answered; he had just come home from work and flopped onto the sofa.
Mother! Evelyn! Come in!
Margaret swept into the hallway, eyeing everything with a critical stare. Behind her followed Evelyn in a costly suit, high heels clicking, a large handbag in tow.
Good afternoon, Linda said, drying her hands on a towel.
Ah, good, good, Margaret replied dryly, not even removing her shoes. Andrew, help with the luggage.
Evelyn halted at the door, glancing at Lindas disheveled attire. Youve been home all day? At least dress decently when you have guests.
Linda felt her cheeks flush. Sorry, Ive been with the baby, thats all.
Right, Evelyn said, slipping off her shoes and moving into the sittingroom where Margaret had already settled. Mum, I told you this place was a mess.
Linda stood in the entryway, unsure what to do. Andrew buzzed around his mother and sister, asking how their journey had been, completely oblivious to her plight.
Will you be having dinner? she asked, peeking into the room.
Whats on the menu? Margaret asked, narrowing her eyes.
Stew and meatballs.
Stew? Evelyn sneered. We were hoping for something lightsalad, steamed fish.
I didnt know
Fine, bring whatever you have, Margaret waved a hand. Dont let the house go to waste.
Linda set the table, while Margaret and Evelyn nitpicked everything: the stew was too salty, the meatballs too dry, the bread stale. Andrew ate silently, never defending his wife.
Wheres the baby? Margaret demanded once the plates were cleared.
Sleeping, Linda began to clear the dishes.
Wake her, I want to see my granddaughter.
She just fell asleep; better not disturb her. Shell be fussy later.
I said wake her, the motherinlaw snapped. Or Ill do it myself.
Linda shuffled to the nursery. Emily lay quiet, arms stretched out, a picture of innocence. It pained her to rouse the child, but she had no choice.
What a crying little thing, Evelyn muttered as Linda carried the sleepy infant back. Always wailing.
Shes only eight months, Linda soothed, trying to calm her. She woke up scared.
Thats why I never wanted children, Evelyn retorted, turning away. Just trouble.
Margaret took Emily in her arms, turning her this way and that, inspecting her. Shes so thin. Are you feeding her properly?
Of course I am! Linda snapped, feeling the pressure rise.
You must have no time for yourself. Look at this flatnever clean.
Linda clenched her fists. She had spent the whole day washing, cooking, tending to the baby, and still it wasnt enough.
Perhaps youd like to rest? Andrew offered. You look exhausted.
Yes, thank you, Margaret said, handing Emily back. Show us where well be sleeping.
Weve set up a cot in the lounge, Linda replied. We only have two roomsone for the baby.
A cot in the lounge? Seriously? Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
Evelyn, why dont you take the bedroom? Andrew suggested. Well move Emily to our bed for the night.
Linda wanted to argue, but said nothing. It was pointless.
When the guests finally settled, Linda moved Emilys crib into the master bedroom. The baby, now irritated from being woken, whined incessantly. Linda rocked, sang, but Emilys tears only grew.
Linda, do something! Andrew tossed his head back on the bed. I have to work tomorrow!
Im trying!
Youre not trying enough!
Linda slipped out with Emily, closed the kitchen door, sat on a stool, pressed her daughter to her chest, and wept silently together.
The next morning a knock sounded at the bedroom door.
Linda, get up! Its nine oclock!
She opened her eyes. Emily slept beside her in the crib; Andrew was not in the bed. Linda pulled on a dressing gown and stepped out.
In the kitchen, Margaret and Evelyn were seated, their faces lit with displeasure.
Weve been up an hour and theres no breakfast, Evelyn declared. At least you managed to turn the kettle on.
Im sorry, I didnt hear you get up, Linda said, moving to the stove. What would you like?
An omelette, but not in butterdry, please. I cant have fat, Margaret demanded. And I want oatmeal, water only, no sugar, plus a proper coffee, not that instant stuff.
Linda had no ground coffee, only instant, but she kept silent and began preparing the breakfast.
Listen, Evelyn leaned back, eyes narrowed. Since youre not working, youll be cooking for us. Well give you a list of what to buy and how to make it.
Linda froze, whisk in hand.
What?
Whats the problem? Evelyn shrugged. You do nothing all day, so at least you can be useful.
Im with the baby!
The baby sleeps half the day. You have plenty of time.
Linda looked at Margaret, hoping for an ally, but Margaret merely nodded.
Evelyns right. Were family. You should be glad to help my sons wife. Also, youre not a great cook, so practice.
Wheres Andrew? Linda asked, feeling the heat rise.
Hes at work; he left early, Margaret said, sipping tea. By the way, that sugar you used is cheap. Next time buy better.
Linda finished the silent breakfast, hands shaking with anger, but she served the omelette and oatmeal anyway.
Its terrible, Evelyn scoffed, pushing the bowl away. The oatmeal is lumpy. Redo it.
I wont redo it, Linda said quietly, but firmly. Eat whats there or make it yourself.
How dare you speak to us like that? Margaret slammed her cup on the saucer. Were guests in this house!
Im not your maid, Linda replied, removing her apron. I have a job tooraising our child and keeping this home. Its work, too.
Evelyn laughed. Work? Sitting with a baby isnt work, love. Its nothing. Youre just leeching off my brother.
Enough, Linda said, turning toward the door.
Where are you going? Margaret called after her. The dishes arent done!
Linda didnt answer. She retreated to her room, grabbed her phone, and typed to Andrew: Your mother and sister are being rude. Either speak to them or Im going to my parents.
He replied after half an hour: Dont make a fuss. Theyre only trying to help. Bear it for a week.
Bear it. Always bear it. Linda threw the phone onto the bed.
Emily woke and began to cry. Linda lifted her, changed her diaper, fed her, while the voices of Margaret and Evelyn drifted through the kitchen: shameless, Andrew spoiled her, should have found someone better.
Feeling the weight of it all, Linda took Emily for a walk in the park, pushing the pram beneath the amber leaves, trying to decide what to do next.
When she returned, the flat smelled of frying mushrooms and potatoes. Margaret, not turning, said, Ah, youre back. Where have you been?
Just walked, Linda replied.
Fine. Since you dont want to cook, Ill do it myself. Andrew loves mushrooms. Your pantry is nearly empty, you know.
Linda slipped past quietly, put Emily to sleep, and sat on the bed, staring at the wall. How had she arrived at this point? Once she had been confident, cheerful, with friends, a job, hobbies. Now she felt like a trapped mouse, afraid to open her mouth.
Andrew returned that evening in good spirits.
How was your day? he asked, kissing his mother on the cheek.
Fine, Andrew. I made you those potatoes with mushrooms you like, Linda replied.
Thanks, Mum! he said, sitting down. Wheres Linda?
Shes in the room, feeling a bit down, Evelyn said, painting her nails on the sofa. We asked her to help with breakfast and she got upset.
Linda! Andrew called. Come here!
She emerged from the bedroom.
Whats happened?
Mum says you were rude this morning.
Me? Rude?
Yes, Margaret said, laying plates on the table. We asked you to make breakfast and you stormed off.
Thats not true! They told me Id be cooking for them because I do nothing all day!
Andrew frowned. Linda, can you really not endure a week? Theyre not strangers.
Andrew, do you hear what theyre saying?
I hear. Theyre speaking normally. Youre at home, you can help.
Im not just at home for nothing! I have a child!
The child sleeps half the day, Evelyn interjected. Stop using that as an excuse.
Linda looked at her husbands indifferent face, at the way he calmly ate his potatoes. She realized he was never on her side. He had never been.
Its clear, she said, turning away. Ill go to my room.
Andrew called after her, Linda, stay for dinner?
She shut the door, leaned against it, tears choking her, but she did not weep. She needed to think.
The next morning Linda rose before everyone else. She packed a small bag with a few clothes, her documents, some money she had saved for emergencies. When Emily woke, Linda fed and changed her, then called a cab.
Margaret and Evelyn were still asleep when Linda, baby in her arms and a bag over her shoulder, slipped out of the flat. Andrew was also asleep. No one saw her off.
Her parents lived in a modest terraced house on the other side of town. Her mother opened the door in a nightgown, halfasleep.
Lena? she asked. Whats wrong?
Mum, may we stay with you for a while?
Her mother silently stepped aside, letting her in. Her father emerged from the bedroom, instantly grasping the situation.
That fool again? he muttered, referring to Andrew.
Dad, please, Lena sank onto the sofa. I just need a place to think.
Her mother gathered Emily into her arms. Of course, love. Stay as long as you need.
That evening Andrew called.
Lena, where are you? Mum says youre not home!
Im at my parents.
What? Come back at once!
No.
What do you mean no? Youre my wife, your place is here!
Andrew, Im tiredtired of you, of your mother, of your sister. I need time to think.
He shouted, What am I supposed to think about? Stop making a drama! They asked you to cook, thats all.
It wasnt a request, it was a command. Like a servant.
Whos siding with you? Im not taking anyones side! I just want peace at home.
The peace comes at my expense. I have to be silent, endure, cook, clean. And they can do whatever they like.
Andrew fell silent.
When will you return?
I dont know. Maybe never.
Lena, are you serious?
Very serious. Im fed up being invisible in my own family.
He hung up.
Her father poured tea and asked, Did he apologize?
She shook her head. He just wants me to go back.
Her mother listened, nodding. You did what you could. Sometimes you have to walk away for people to see your worth.
A friend from school, Claire, called a few days later.
Lena, I heard you left Andrew. How are you?
How did you hear?
Its a small town, news travels fast. So, what happened?
Lena recounted the weeks of humiliation. Claire said, Youre a strong woman. You dont have to stay where youre treated like a servant. The child will feel it too. Kids pick up on how theyre respected.
The words steadied her. Perhaps it truly was time to end it.
Weeks later Andrew turned up at her parents house, bearing flowers and a small present for Emily.
Ive thought a lot. Lets start again. Ill change, he said earnestly.
How many times have you sworn before? she asked.
This time Im serious. Ive booked a therapist, my first session is in two days.
She stared, surprised. He had always dismissed therapy as foolish.
Really? she whispered.
Yes. Heres the confirmation, he showed his phone.
She hesitated, then said, Ill think about it.
How much time do you need?
I dont know. Just dont pressure me.
He nodded, then asked, Can I see Emily?
Of course.
He entered the nursery, gently smoothing Emilys tiny head. For the first time in months, Linda saw a father, not a detached housemate.
When he left, her mother asked, Going back to him?
I havent decided. I want to see if he truly changes.
Wise.
For the next two weeks Linda stayed with her parents, taking walks, resting, and regaining strength. Andrew visited every other day, sharing what hed learned in therapy: hed feared responsibility, so hed pushed away the child; hed blamed Linda because admitting his own shortcomings felt harder; hed grown up in a household where the father reigned and the mother submitted, and he had been copying that model.
Linda listened, seeing genuine remorse. That gave her hope.
The turning point came when Andrew returned with news.
I spoke to my mother. I told her shed been wrong, that youre my wife and Im on your side. She was angry, but she agreed to respect you.
What about her?
Shell think about her behaviour. Shes reluctant, but shell try.
Linda smiled, feeling, perhaps for the first time, that Andrew had chosen herShe stepped forward, hand in hand with Andrew, ready to rebuild their life on a foundation of mutual respect and shared responsibility.
