Ruth swore in front of everyone that shed thrown away my dinner.
Are you really putting little Mick in that thin sweater again? Its cold outside!
Mum, its plus fifteen degrees. He wont freeze.
He wont freeze! You youngsters dont understand a thing. A child must be bundled up properly!
Natalie stood in the hallway, watching as her motherinlaw, Ruth, stripped the light cardigan from her grandson and pulled a warm sweater over his tiny shoulders. The boy squirmed and whined, but Ruth would not be swayed.
Mum, hell be hot in that, Natalie tried to argue.
Better hot than catching a cold! Ruth declared, fastening the sweater and nodding approvingly. Thats how it should be. Go on, enjoy your walk.
Natalie bit her lip, keeping any protest to herself. She took Micks hand and left her motherinlaws flat. Ruth lived just a floor above and liked to keep a tight rein on every move Natalie made.
Natalie had married David four years earlier. At first they rented a flat on their own, but when Mick was born David suggested they move into his parents house more room and a helping hand from the grandmother. Natalie agreed, and she regretted it within the first week.
Ruth involved herself in everything: how to feed the baby, how to dress him, how to put him to bed. Natalies opinions were brushed aside the moment she voiced them.
Youre young and inexperienced. Ive raised three children, I know best, Ruth would say.
David usually stayed quiet, saying his mother was only being caring and that Natalie shouldnt take offense. Yet Natalie felt more like a servant than a partner.
The kitchen became the worst battlefield. Ruth fancied herself a culinary genius and dismissed any other method.
Borscht must be made with smoked ribs! What did you put in yours?
Meatballs need a bit of pork backfat! Yours are as dry as a shoe sole!
Your pie dough should rest three hours, not one!
At first Natalie argued, trying to prove her ways were also right. Ruth never listened, and soon Natalie stopped cooking altogether why bother if shed just be criticised?
But this time she resolved to prove herself. The next day was her fatherinlaw Peters birthday, and Natalie wanted to show she could cook too. Before anyone rose, she rose herself, prepared a shrimp salad Peters favourite baked a roast chicken with vegetables, and made an apple sponge cake using her own mothers recipe. She poured her heart into every dish.
By lunchtime the kitchen smelled delicious. Peter came out of his room, sniffed the air and said,
What a lovely scent! Natalie, is that your work?
Yes, Peter. Happy birthday!
Thank you, dear! Peter was a kind man, unlike his wife. He often defended Natalie when Ruth started to tear her down.
Ruth entered the lounge with a sour expression.
Whats that smell in the morning?
Mum, Natalies cooked this for my birthday, Peter replied, smiling.
Ruth walked over to the table and lifted the lid of the salad bowl. She sniffed, then grimaced.
Whats this?
Shrimp salad, Natalie turned. Peter loves it.
Shrimp? He gets heartburn from shrimp! Ruth winced. Why would you serve that?
But he said he liked them
He never said that! And this? she gestured to the chicken.
Ruth opened the oven, poked the chicken with a fork.
Dry. Overcooked.
David, who had just entered the kitchen, interjected, Mum, its just out of the oven. Let us try it.
No need to taste, I can see its ruined, Ruth snapped, slamming the oven door. And whats this awful looking cake?
Its an apple sponge cake, Natalie felt a lump rise in her throat. My mothers recipe.
Your mother cant cook, Im sure, Ruth snorted. The apple doesnt fall far from the tree.
Natalie clenched her fists. My mother cooks excellently!
Sure, she taught you nothing, Ruth scoffed, grabbing the shrimp salad and marching it to the bin.
What are you doing? Natalie lunged.
Throwing it away. No one will eat it anyway.
In front of everyone Ruth dumped the salad into the trash. Natalie stood frozen, watching the effort and money shed spent on fresh shrimp disappear.
Mum, what are you doing?! David stepped forward. Why did you throw it away?
Because Peter gets heartburn from shrimp! I know whats good for him, Ruth insisted.
Id love a bite, Peter intervened, puzzled. Why waste it?
Dont argue with me! Ruth turned to David. Ive cared for you for thirty years, I know whats harmful!
Natalie stared at the waste bin, tears threatening to spill, but she held them back. She would not cry in front of that woman. She turned and left the kitchen, went to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, letting the sobs flow in private.
David entered quietly.
Nat, dont cry. Mum just got a little worked up.
Worked up? She threw my food away in front of everyone!
Shes only worried about Peters heartburn. He does get it sometimes.
Hes told me he loves shrimp!
Maybe he liked it before, but not now.
Natalie looked at David, who once again defended his mother rather than her.
Why do you always side with her?
Im not defending her, I just understand. She wants to control everything.
What about my feelings? Do they matter?
Of course they do, David sat down beside her. But dont take it to heart. She treats everyone this way.
Nat, she doesnt respect me at all. Im nothing to her.
Thats not true.
It is! She calls me foolish, incompetent. Everything I do is wrong!
David fell silent.
Lets not fight on his birthday. Come sit with us.
Natalie shook her head.
I dont want to.
Please, Nat
Go without me. Say youre ill.
David sighed, got up and left. Natalie remained alone, staring at the ceiling, the anger inside bubbling. She decided she could no longer tolerate this.
That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Natalie returned to the kitchen. The roast chicken and the cake lay untouched. Ruth had prepared her own dinner fried potatoes and meat patties and everyone ate her food, while none of Natalies dishes were even sampled. The only exception was Peter, who slipped a piece of the apple cake, swallowed it, and winked at Natalie.
Delicious, thank you, dear.
At least someone appreciated her effort. Natalie cleared the table, washed the dishes, while Ruth lounged in the living room watching TV, never offering a hand. When she finally finished, David appeared.
Nat, Mum wants to speak with you.
What about?
I dont know. Shes in the sitting room.
Natalie wiped her hands and walked in. Ruth switched off the television and faced her.
Sit down.
Natalie perched on the edge of the sofa. Ruth studied her with a judgmental stare.
I want you to understand one thing. This is my house, my rules. If you want to stay, youll do as I say.
Natalie stayed silent.
Im the one who cooks in the kitchen. Got it? No more of your shrimp and other nonsense.
I only wanted to make Peter happy.
Pleasantness means obeying your motherinlaw, not running your own show.
Ruth, I am also part of this family. I deserve the right to cook.
Ruth smirked.
A family member? Youre living off my provision. I feed you, I wash your clothes. What do you do? Stay at home with the child.
I look after him!
Look after him. I worked and raised my own children, and all you do is whine.
Natalie sprang to her feet.
Im not whining! I just want respect!
Respect must be earned, Ruth retorted, standing as well. What have you done to earn mine? Nothing but complaints.
Natalie turned and left the room. She could not listen any longer. She headed to the bedroom where David lay awake.
David, we need to move out.
He looked up, surprised.
Move out? Where to?
Find a flat. I cant live here any longer.
Weve talked about this. We dont have the money for a rental.
Well find it. Ill get a job.
What about Mick?
Well put him in nursery.
Natasha, be realistic. My salary barely covers our bills. If we rent somewhere, well have nothing left.
So Im supposed to keep suffering your mothers rule?
Shes not that terrible
Mum! She threw my food away today, in front of everyone! She humiliated me!
Maybe youre overreacting, but dont make a scene.
David stared at his phone, oblivious to Natalies pain.
You always take her side.
Im not on her side. I just see no point in fighting.
What about my opinion?
It matters, but lets be adults. Hang on a bit longer. Ill get a bonus in six months, well save, and then move.
Six months. Another halfyear of Ruths tyranny. Natalie didnt know if she could endure that long, but there was no money for a flat and Mick was still a toddler needing care.
The next morning Ruth pretended nothing had happened, issuing commands as she prepared breakfast. Natalie ate silently, avoiding eye contact.
Later that day, Natalies mother called.
Nat, hows the birthday?
Natalie stepped onto the balcony for privacy.
Mum, everythings terrible.
What happened?
She recounted the tossed salad and the argument with Ruth.
Darling, why do you put up with that? Move out.
We cant, we have no money.
Maybe I can help. Your dad and I could lend you
No, Mum, youre barely getting by yourselves.
But shes humiliating you!
I know. David promised wed move in six months.
Her mother fell silent.
Have you thought about getting a parttime job? You could earn some money and have a break from Ruth.
Natalie considered it. She hadnt thought of that before.
What about Mick?
Theres a nursery nearby. Hes three now, perfect age.
David says a nursery is bad for him, hell get sick.
All children get sick sometimes. Hell also learn and make friends.
Mum, Ill talk to David.
That night, after Mick was asleep, Natalie brought up the idea.
David, I want a job.
He looked up from his laptop.
A job? Why?
So we have money and can move sooner.
But Mick
Well put him in nursery. Hes three.
David frowned.
Mum says nursery is harmful, kids catch colds.
Kids get colds everywhere. Hell be socialised and develop.
Mum will object.
Mum, stop interfering! This is our child, our decision.
David was silent for a moment.
Fine. Lets try. Keep it from Mum for now.
Why?
Shell try to stop us.
Natalie agreed. The next day she registered Mick at the nursery; there was a waiting list, but they promised a place in a month.
A month later she secured a parttime admin job at a small firm, nine to three, which allowed her to pick Mick up. When everything was set, she told Ruth.
I start work on Monday.
Ruth looked up from the pot she was stirring.
Work? What about Mick?
Hell be at nursery.
Who decided that?
David and I.
You didnt even ask me?
Its our decision.
Ruth slammed a wooden spoon into the sink.
Your decision? Sending the child to nursery and you going to work? What kind of mother are you?
A normal mother. Many women work and send their kids to nursery.
Many! I never did that! I stayed home, raised them! And you think a career is more important?
I want to earn.
Earn? Does your father not provide?
Maybe, but I want independence too.
Independence? You dont even think about the child.
I do. Hell be fine.
Ruths face turned red.
David! Come here!
David entered the kitchen.
Whats the problem?
Your wife wants to send Mick to nursery and go to work!
Mum, we discussed this. Natalie wants to work, thats fine.
Fine? You allowed her to send Mick away without asking me?
Yes.
You never consulted me?
Mum, its our matter.
Ruth stared at David, then left the kitchen, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
David pulled Natalie into a hug.
Shell calm down.
But Ruth stayed silent for a week, refusing to speak to Natalie and cooking only for herself and Peter. David and Natalie had to do all the meals themselves. Natalie didnt mind; finally she could make what she liked without criticism.
On Monday, Natalie began her new job. Mick started at the nursery and loved it, running around with new friends. Ruth predicted he would cry and catch colds, but nothing happened.
At work, colleagues were friendly and the manager fair. Natalie felt useful; the modest paycheck was hers, and she saved every penny.
After three months, Natalie and David had saved enough for the first months rent of a modest twobedroom flat on the outskirts of town. They found a tidy, cheap place and paid the deposit.
Now they had to tell their parents. David dragged his feet, fearing his mothers reaction, but the moving date was in a week.
That evening, after dinner, David gathered everyone in the sitting room.
Mum, Dad, we need to talk.
Ruth looked up, wary.
What about?
Weve decided to move out. Weve rented a flat.
A heavy silence fell. Ruth slowly set her teacup down.
Move out?
Yes. We need our own space.
Your own space? Does that mean youre ungrateful? Ruth snapped. I fed you, washed your clothes, looked after Mick! And youre leaving?
Mum, were grateful, but were adults now. We need a home of our own.
Its all because of that girl! Ruth pointed at Natalie. She ruined everything with her shrimp salad!
Peter, the fatherinlaw, rose.
Ruth, calm down. Theyre right. They need their own life.
Dont interfere! Ruth shouted at him. You never cared about me!
She stormed back to the bedroom, slamming the door. Peter sighed.
Dont hold a grudge. Shes used to controlling everything. Theyre moving on.
David said, Well visit on weekends and holidays.
Of course, Peter patted his sons shoulder. Just be happy.
Natalie smiled gratefully; at last someone understood.
A week later they moved into the small flat. Ruth never came to say goodbye, staying in her room as a silent protest. Peter helped carry boxes and gave them a parting hug.
The new flat was tiny but cosy. Natalie delighted in arranging it, finally feeling like a true homemaker. She cooked what she liked, cleaned how she saw fit, and no one nagged her. David relaxed without his mothers watchful eye and their relationship blossomed again.
Mick now had his own room and toys. He thrived at nursery, making friends and learning new things.
Ruth didnt call. She was still angry, but Peter called occasionally, asking how they were doing. He admitted he missed his wifes cooking but respected their independence.
Six months passed. Natalie was accustomed to her independent life and could not imagine enduring Ruths control any longer.
One weekend David suggested a visit to his parents.
Nat, lets see Mum.
Alright, Natalie agreed.
They arrived midday. Peter opened the door, delighted.
Come in, come in! Hows Mick grown?
Ruth emerged from the kitchen, froze, then managed a polite Hello. Natalie handed her a bouquet of flowers.
Ruth took the flowers without a word. They sat down to lunch. Ruth prepared the meal, as always delicious. The conversation was tense; Ruth answered briefly, avoiding Natalies gaze.
After the meal, David went to the garage with his father. Natalie stayed with Mick in the lounge while Ruth cleared theAs she watched Ruth finally offer a tentative smile and share a cup of tea, Natalie realized that even the hardest hearts can soften when compassion meets patience, and that peace begins with a single act of understanding.
