I remember waking to a clatter and spotting my motherinlaw digging through my chest of drawers. Mum, thats enough! Davids voice boomed through the little cottage, echoing off the kitchen walls. Were grownups, well sort it ourselves!
Emma stood by the stove, a ladle clenched in her hand. David and his mother had been at odds for the better part of twenty minutes, and the argument showed no signs of easing.
I’m your mother! Agnes Whitaker declared from the centre of the kitchen, arms folded across her chest. And I have the right to know where youre spending your money!
Mother, Im thirtyfive, I have a wife and a child! What concern is yours about my earnings or my expenses?
Because I see something amiss! Yesterday you came home and the fridge was empty! Emma must have forgotten to go shopping again!
Emmas heart skipped a beat at hearing her own name. She turned to Agnes.
Agnes, the fridge isnt empty. I simply havent made it to the market yet; I planned to go this evening.
Evening, Agnes snorted disdainfully. You sit at home all day and cant even buy basic provisions!
Im not at home, Im on maternity leave! Lucy is only eight months old!
In my day we also stayed home, but the house was kept in order! We boiled the broth for the husband every day!
David ran a hand across his face. Mum, please, dont start again.
Im not starting, Im telling the truth! Look at her dishevelled, in a dressing gown all morning!
Emma felt her cheeks flush. She was indeed wrapped in a housecoat, her hair tied in a careless knot. But was that shocking? She had fed the baby, washed the laundry, hung the sheets, prepared breakfastall before she could think of herself.
Agnes, perhaps you should go home? she said as calmly as she could. You must have things to attend to.
I have a job looking after my son! I didnt raise him the way you have!
Mother, thats enough! Go! David grabbed Agnes by the elbow. Please, stop making this harder.
Agnes broke free, snatched the handbag from the table, and announced, Fine, Im leaving! But know this, David, I see whats happening in this house, and sooner or later youll have to sort it out yourself!
She slammed the door shut with a loud thud. David stood in the kitchen, breathing heavily.
Sorry, Em, he said wearily. She kept ringing me all morning and then turned up unannounced.
Its all right, Emma replied, returning to the stove. Im used to it by now.
But being used to it was a stretch. Agnes had been meddling from the day they were married, critiquing everything how Emma cooked, how she cleaned, how she dressed, how she raised Lucy. She would arrive unannounced, inspect the fridge, peek into cupboards.
David tried to defend his wife, but his loyalty to his mother held him back. Emma endured, wondering what else she could do.
They had wed four years earlier, having met in the accounts department of a local mill. David was a department head; Emma was a junior accountant. He courted her with flowers and dinners out. She fell in love truly, for the first time in her life.
Agnes disliked Emma from the start. At their first meeting she examined Emma from head to toe and muttered, Well, David chose a modest sort. I had hoped for someone else, though Emma never learned who that someone else might have been.
After the wedding, the nitpicking began. Agnes would arrive with a checklist, find dust in corners, a soup insufficiently salted, dishes left unwashed. She lectured on how a wife should love her husband, how a home should be run.
David at first defended Emma, then grew accustomed, waving his hand dismissively: Mothers like that; nothing can be done.
But how could he ignore it when Agnes called every day, asking what was for dinner, what his wife fed him, why he looked tired? She hinted that Emma was a bad wife, not caring for her husband.
When Emma became pregnant, the intrusions intensified. Agnes monitored every bite, every vitamin, every doctors visit. After Lucy was born Agnes practically moved in coming daily to teach how to swaddle, feed, rock.
Emma bore it all for David, for the family, though her strength was waning.
One night, after Lucy finally fell asleep, Emma lay beside David on the settee.
David, its hard, she confessed. Your mother has no sense of boundaries.
I know, he hugged her shoulders. But what can we do? She lives alone, shes lonely.
She can be lonely without barging into other peoples lives.
Were not strangers. Im her son.
And what am I?
David sighed. Emma, lets not argue. Im exhausted.
Emma fell silent. He was tired, but wasnt she? A whole day with a baby, cooking, cleaning, laundry, then another barrage of motherinlaw complaints. Yet David seemed more preoccupied with work and stress than with their plight.
She rose, went to the kitchen, finished the cold supper, washed the dishes, checked Lucy sleeping peacefully, tiny nose twitching. She returned to the bedroom where David was already asleep.
She lay down, pulled the blanket over herself, tried to close her eyes, but sleep would not come. Thoughts of Agness sharp words swirled, and the certainty that she would return again tomorrow.
In the predawn quiet, a rustle roused Emma. She opened her eyes to a darkened room; the clock read half past five in the morning. What was that noise?
She listened. A faint shuffling came from the bedroom, as if someone were riffling through papers. Lucy was still in her cot, too young to be the source. David lay still beside her.
Emma propped herself up on her elbow. The sound emanated from the old chest of drawers in the corner of the bedroom, where she kept undergarments, documents, odds and ends.
In the dim light she saw a figure a womans silhouette bent over an open drawer, rummaging.
Emma froze, disbelief flooding her. Who could be in her home at this hour?
The figure turned, and the streetlamp spilling through the curtains illuminated a familiar face Agnes Whitaker, her motherinlaw, sifting through Emmas belongings at six in the morning.
Emma sat up, eyes locked on her, heart hammering. What are you doing? she asked, voice trembling.
Agnes snapped upright. Fear flashed briefly in her eyes before a mask of indifference settled.
Oh, youre awake, she said as if nothing were amiss. Didnt want to wake you.
What are you doing in my dresser? Emma demanded, rising.
I was looking for napkins. My nose was blocked, I needed to blow my nose.
Napkins are in the kitchen, not the bedroom.
I didnt know that, Agnes snapped the drawer shut. Thought Id look.
Emma stepped closer, stare hard. How did you even get into the flat?
I have a set of keys. David gave them to me when Lucy was born, just in case.
And you decided to come at six a.m.?
Im an early riser. Wanted to help with my grandchild so you could get some rest.
Help by riffling through my underwear?
Agnes straightened, adopting a defensive posture. I wasnt rummaging! I was looking for napkins!
What napkins? You were digging through my lingerie!
Youre out of line, how dare you speak to me like that?
David stirred, eyes opening. Whats happening? he muttered sleepily.
Ask your mother! Emma snapped, Shes here at six a.m. and shes going through my things!
David sat up, rubbing his face.
Mum, why are you here?
I wanted to help, Agnes replied, feigning hurt. And now Im being accused of theft!
I never called you a thief! I asked what you were doing in my dresser!
Looking for napkins!
What napkins?! Emmas fury was no longer containable. Do you think Im an idiot? You came in here on purpose to snoop!
In the next room, Lucy began to whimper, awakened by the raised voices. Emma scooped her up, soothing her, Shh, little love, its all right.
The argument continued in the bedroom. David tried to mediate, Mum, stop. Emma, calm down. Lucys crying because of us.
Its your mother whos frightening her, Emma retorted.
This is my mother. She has a right to be here, especially for the baby.
Only when were home, not at dawn, rummaging through my personal things.
David, torn, finally raised his voice. Enough! Both of you, shut up!
Lucys cries grew louder. Emma, holding her, fled to the kitchen, hands shaking as she finished the babys evening formula.
Later, after Lucy finally fell asleep, David entered the kitchen, Agnes has left.
I hope she really was just after napkins.
Maybe. He poured himself a glass of water.
Emma stared at him. Do you really believe that? she asked.
I suppose I could. Perhaps she was sincere.
The dresser held my underwear, not napkins.
Hard to tell in the dark.
The sun had already risen!
David sipped his water, Alright, Emma, lets not make a mountain out of a molehill. She justhelped.
What help is it to invade my privacy? Emma whispered.
Hes not a stranger. Shes my mother.
To me shes a stranger! Emma snapped.
David stood, So shes a stranger to you.
Dont twist my words! Emma retorted.
Fine, Ill take the keys back, he said, but I need them for emergencies.
Emma nodded, Then Ill change the lock.
Silence settled. David stared at his wife, bewildered.
Youll change the lock? he asked, incredulous.
Yes. So my motherinlaw cant walk in without permission.
You think Im choosing her over you?
Im just defending my space.
David sighed, Ill talk to her, see what really happened.
That night, after a long day, David returned home late, the house quiet. Emma lay awake, the events of the morning looping in her mind.
In the morning, David left for work without a word, leaving Emma and Lucy alone. The hours stretched, each minute tinged with the expectation that Agnes might appear again. She didnt.
That evening, David called, his voice soft. Mum apologises. She didnt mean to upset anyone. Shell try not to turn up unannounced.
Emma nodded, Alright.
Shell also return the keys if that helps you.
A small relief washed over Emma. Thank you.
Only if youll apologise to her for accusing her of theft, David added.
I never called her a thief!
But you said she was rummaging.
Emma clenched her fists, the old anger resurfacing.
Fine, Ill apologise.
She dialed Agness number the next day. Im sorry, I was out of line. I shouldnt have reacted so sharply.
A pause. I accept your apology, Agnes replied finally. I was wrong to come so early and to pry.
Will you give the keys back? Emma asked.
Another pause. I will. I understand now.
Agnes returned the keys through David. She promised to call ahead before visiting and to keep her distance.
From then on, Agnes appeared only when invited, helping with Lucy but never imposing. A cautious truce formed, though a thin wall of wariness remained.
David, relieved, saw his two most important women finally learning to coexist.
Emma learned that defending her boundaries, however painful, was essential. Without that stand, she would have been swallowed whole. Yet once the line was drawn, a healthier, more equal relationship could grow.
The episode with the dresser taught her never to stay silent when something was wrong, to speak up, to demand respect. Only then could she keep herself, her marriage, and her little family intact.
