Hey love, listen up, Ive got a story thats been on my mind. Emily was staring at the spilled flour on the kitchen floor, trying not to let tears spill over. In the dim glow of the kitchen lamp the white smears on the linoleum looked like odd little snowflakes. But there was no time for poetic musings guests were due in an hour and the apple crumble wasnt even started.
Making a mess again? Marks voice cut in as he stepped into the kitchen, sharp as ever. My mums coming over and youre as usual.
Emily pursed her lips.
It wasnt on purpose, Mark. The bag ripped, she said.
Everythings always breaking, falling, smashing in this house, he snapped, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. Thirtyfive years old and still as clumsy as a child.
She scooped the flour into a dustpan, swallowing the sting of his words. Ten years of this had taught her to swallow her hurt.
Im off to meet Mum, Mark glanced at his watch. Make sure the tables set by seven. Try not to embarrass us, alright? Its her birthday after all.
When his door shut, Emily perched on a stool and took a deep breath. She remembered how theyd met in the Leeds public library where she worked. Hed been so attentive showing up daily, borrowing the books shed suggested, staying late. Then hed taken her to the theatre. Shed felt like a heroine from a romance novel a single mother from a previous marriage, swept up by a handsome, independent man. Who could have guessed the fairytale would crumble so fast?
Tom slipped into the kitchen like a ghost.
Did you bring it out again? he asked, nodding toward the front door.
Stop it, Emily snapped, youre talking about your stepdad.
The one who treats you like a servant.
Emily had nothing to argue with. At sixteen Tom saw everything too clearly.
Do your homework, not eavesdrop on grownups, she muttered, returning to the cleaning.
Tom grumbled but didnt argue. Instead he rolled up his sleeves and started helping.
Mom, we need to talk, he said seriously. I want to apply to Manchester after school, to study programming.
Manchester? Emily froze, a cloth in her hand. But we agreed on the local college the dorms, the whole package
And Mark, who loves to nag you at every chance, Tom cut in. I cant watch that any longer, Mum.
Tom, thats adult life. Families have their quirks, Emily tried to soothe.
Its not a family, Mum. Its He waved his hand and left the kitchen.
By the time the guests arrived, Emily had managed to tidy up, set the table, and even bake a perfect apple crumble a little triumph in her culinary arsenal. Margaret Whitfield, Marks mother, a tall woman in an elegant dress, inspected the spread with a critical eye but said nothing. That alone felt like a win.
Please, have a seat, Margaret, Emily buzzed, Lucy and James will be here any minute.
Margaret eased herself into a chair, fixing her silverthreaded hair.
And wheres your boy? she asked, as if speaking about a pet.
Toms in his room, Ill fetch him.
Always studying, isnt he? she said, a hint of sarcasm. Whats the point of all that learning? Hell end up just like his father.
Emily stayed silent. Margaret always dismissed Marks first marriage, even though shed never met his ex. Insulting a dead man felt utterly rude, yet she never dared to contradict her motherinlaw.
The doorbell rang, saving Emily from having to answer any more snide remarks. Sarah and her husband James Marks sister and her successful businessman husband arrived, and Mark instantly grew more irritable in their presence.
Happy birthday, Mum! Sarah threw her arms around Margaret. You look stunning! No one would guess youre sixty!
Margaret lit up. Sarah always knew the right thing to say.
Emily, James kissed her hand, you look radiant. New haircut?
Thanks for noticing, Emily replied, a little embarrassed, catching Marks displeased glance.
Mark began pouring champagne, deliberately ignoring Tom, who stood off to the side.
To the birthday girl! he announced. To the best mum in the world!
And to Grandma! Sarah added. By the way weve got a surprise for you.
The what now? Margaret asked, wary.
Were expecting a baby! Sarah declared, beaming.
James grinned. Mark forced a smile.
Congratulations, Emily whispered. Thats wonderful news.
And why arent you having one yourself? Margaret blurted, turning to Emily. Marks almost forty and has no kids of his own. Only our stepchild in the house.
Silence fell. Emily felt a wave of heat flush her face.
Mate, weve talked about this, Mark muttered through clenched teeth.
What did we talk about? That your wife is building a career? Margaret sneered. What career does a librarian have? All my grandchildrens mums are at home, and Im left watching your son Tom. And if only you had a decent boy
Margaret! Emily snapped. Tom is right here.
Am I lying? Margaret shot back at her grandson. Youre always tucked away in a corner, never saying a word. Off to Manchester, huh? What for?
Emily stared at Tom, stunned. How did she know his plans?
Ill earn it myself, Tom said calmly. Ive already found a remote gig, building websites.
What websites? Mark interjected. You should be studying properly, not chasing nonsense.
Its not nonsense, its my future profession, Tom replied firmly. And the pays decent.
Who gave you permission? Mark raised his voice. You live under my roof, you follow my rules!
Your roof, your rules Tom murmured. Im not even your son, am I? So I dont have to obey.
Marks face turned beet red.
Exactly! Not my son! Never will be!
Mark! Emily shouted, Enough, now!
What did I even say? Mark shrugged. Im being honest! Ive fed and clothed him for ten years and got nothing in return. He just sits in his room staring at a computer. And now he wants to head to Manchester behind my back!
Behind my back? Tom smirked. I dont care about your opinion. Youre nobody to me.
Tom! Emily, on the brink of tears, looked between son and husband. Mark, please, not today. Its Margarets birthday.
No, its the perfect time! Mark persisted. Ive tolerated that waste of a boy for ten years, and now you expect me to fund his Manchester tuition?
Margaret nodded approvingly, Sarah and James stared at their plates, and Tom stood pale but calm.
Ill earn it myself, Tom repeated. I dont need anything from you.
Really? Mark snorted. And the roof over your head? Food? Clothes? All mine! If you want to keep living like that, forget Manchester. Youll study here, under my watch. Thats my condition.
Emily felt something snap inside her. Ten years of tolerating snipes, neglect, and putdowns just to keep a roof over their heads and Tom fed. Now Mark was setting conditions for her son.
Maybe thats enough, she said quietly. Its Margarets birthday and weve turned this into a circus.
Its your son causing the scene, Mark retorted. Always because of him. And you keep covering for him! Ungrateful brat and a henlike mother. Youll keep living off my neck forever?
Emily rose slowly from the table. The room fell silent.
Ive spent thirtyfive years in the library, she said, her voice suddenly steady. I have two degrees. I never asked you to support my son we managed before you.
Is that so? Mark smirked. Didnt notice.
Because I didnt want to, Emily replied. You needed a docile housewife, not a partner. I became that, but enoughs enough.
What does that mean? Mark frowned.
It means, Emily turned to Tom, that you and I are leaving.
A heavy hush settled over the room.
Youre serious? Mark finally asked, panic flickering. Where will you go?
For starters, to my sisters place, Emily said calmly. Then well find a flat. Ill get a better job maybe even in Manchester.
Tom looked at his mother with awe. Hed never seen her like this.
Thats nonsense, Mark chuckled nervously. Youll starve without me. How much do you earn at the library? Pennies! How will you afford a flat?
Its not your concern, Emily snapped. By the way, Im not just a librarian Im the head librarian. My salary is respectable. You never bothered to ask.
Dont be absurd! Mark turned to his mother. Did you hear? Weve got a careerwoman in the house!
Your mother has heard enough, James interjected. And maybe thats enough. Its my sisters birthday, not a circus.
Why are you getting involved? Mark snapped. Mind your own family!
What family? James shook his head. The way you treat your wife and stepson there are no words.
James, stop, Sarah tried, but it was too late.
Dont, James said firmly. Ive watched this nightmare for ten years. Its over. Mark, youve become a tyrant. If Emily is leaving, thats the best thing she can do.
Margaret gasped in outrage. How dare you! My son does everything for them, and they
Mom, Sarah softened, James is right. Look at whats happening. Its awful.
Without waiting for more drama, Emily slipped out of the room, Tom following. In the bedroom she grabbed a suitcase and started packing the essentials.
You serious? Tom asked, eyes wide.
More than serious, Emily nodded. Grab your things. Were leaving.
What about? he stammered, we cant just walk out. We need money, a place to stay
I have savings, Emily said, pulling an old jewelry box from the wardrobe something Mark never knew existed. Not a lot, but enough to get us started. My sisters already offered a room, and I have you a smart, talented lad who wants to be a programmer. Well make it.
A knock at the door. Sarah stood there.
Youre really going? she asked softly.
Yes, Emily said firmly. Weve had enough.
Sarah hesitated, then reached into her bag, pulling out a wallet and handing Emily an envelope.
Take this. Its from James and me. Weve wanted to help but were scared of Mark finding out.
Sarah, I cant
You can, Sarah cut in. Youve put up with my brothers crap for ten years, and my mother isnt any better. Accept this, please. Its not charity, its compensation for the hurt youve endured.
Emily paused, then took the envelope, grateful for the resolve in her sisterinlaws eyes.
Thank you, she whispered. And sorry for ruining the party.
Whatever, Sarah waved her hand. Maybe now Mark will finally think about his behaviour. Though I doubt it.
When Emily and Tom emerged back into the living room, tension hung heavy. Mark sat scowling, Margaret pressed her lips together, and James watched with a faint smile.
Were leaving, Emily said simply. Thanks for everything, Mark. And sorry if anythings off.
Yyou you Mark stood, words stuck.
No drama, James said, grimacing. Weve had enough. Need a lift?
No, thanks, Emily shook her head. Weve got a taxi.
The door shut behind them, and Emily felt a lightness she hadnt known in a decade, as if a huge backpack had finally been dropped. Tom took her hand, just like when she was a kid.
Youre amazing, Mum, he said quietly. Im proud of you.
Thanks, love, she smiled. You know what? Maybe Manchester isnt such a bad idea. New city, new start
They went down the stairs and out into the courtyard. It was early May; the blackthorn trees perfumed the evening air.
Emilys phone rang. It was Mark.
Dont answer, Tom advised.
Emily shook her head and replied, Hello, Mark?
Come back right now! he barked. I wont let you go! If you want the kid, take him, but stay here yourself. Thats my condition!
Emily laughed, a genuine, free laugh she hadnt heard from herself in ages.
You no longer get to set conditions for me, Mark, she said. No more conditions. Never.
She hung up, stepped into the waiting taxi and felt it pull away toward the unknown.
Back on the fourthfloor flat, Mark, furious, smashed his phone against the wall and turned to his mother, expecting support. Margaret stared at him with a strange look, as if seeing him for the first time.
Honestly, youre unbearable, Mark, she finally said. How did I not see it before?
She started to cry, not out of spite but from real regret for the mistakes thatd made her raise a selfish son who couldnt love. Maybe, just maybe, it wasnt too late to change.
