Everyones invited to Mums jubilee except you, announced my sister in the family group chat.
Mum, enough! I cant be driving up to you every week! I have a life of my own!
Emily pressed the phone to her ear, feeling a hot knot form inside. It was the third call that day, the same plaintive complaints over and over.
Emily, whats this? Lucy was here yesterday with a tray of scones. And you havent called all week!
Mum, I called the day before yesterday! I bring the scones too, just not every single day!
Exactly, not every day. Lucy does it every week. Thats what a daughter does.
Emily closed her eyes and counted to ten. The arguments looped endlessly. Her older sister Lucy had always been Mums favourite, ever since they were little.
Mum, Ive got an early shift tomorrow. Can we talk later?
Of course, dear. Youre too busy. Lucy also works, but she finds the time.
Emily hung up without a goodbye. She was exhausted, drained by the perpetual comparisons.
A buzz shattered the silence. A new message appeared in the family chat. Emily opened the messenger and saw a long post from Lucy.
Hello, everyone! As you know, Mums 60th birthday is coming up. Im arranging a celebration at The Oakley Arms. All relatives are invited. Ive booked a table for twenty. Please confirm your attendance by Friday.
Below the announcement followed a list of aunts, uncles, cousins and even a thirdcousin from Leeds, whom theyd met once at a wedding.
Emily scrolled to the bottom. Her name was nowhere.
She read the message again. Could it be a mistake? No. She was truly omitted.
She typed into the chat:
Lucy, am I invited?
The reply came instantly:
Everyones invited to the jubilee except you. Mum decided that.
Emily stared at the screen, the words blurring like wet ink. She read it again, and again. Was it a cruel joke? Had Lucy simply been mocking?
No one else questioned the omission. Aunt Zara replied, Ill be there. Cousin Sergei said hed come with his wife. The list marched on, silent about Emilys absence.
She dialed Mum. A series of rings one, two, three and no answer. She tried Lucy.
Hello? Lucys voice was calm, almost indifferent.
Lucy, whats this? Why am I not on the guest list?
I told you. Mum doesnt want you at her party.
Why?
Lucy paused.
She thinks youre a bad daughter. That you dont care about her.
Thats not true! I call, I visit, I help!
Apparently not enough, a hint of satisfaction crept into Lucys tone. Mum said she wont see you on her special day, and Im backing her.
Backing her? Lucy, Im your sister!
And thats why I know what you really are: selfish, only caring about yourself.
What are you talking about?
Youve lived your life as you like. You left town when Mum needed support. You married Victor, even though Mum disapproved. You had only one child, while Mum wanted grandchildren.
Emily listened, stunned.
Lucy, are you serious? I went to university! I got a degree! Is that a crime?
You could have studied here. We have good colleges too.
That was my field! Victor is a good man, Mum just cant see it!
Exactly, everythings wrong. You never listened to Mum; you always did the opposite.
This is my life!
And Mums life too. If she doesnt want you at her jubilee, so be it.
Lucy hung up. Emily stood in her oneroom flat, unable to grasp the scene. She had been excluded from her own mothers celebration because she was a bad daughter.
She sank onto the sofa, covering her face with her hands. Tears threatened, but she held them back. There was no time to weep; she had to understand what was happening.
She dialed Mum again. This time she answered.
Emily, why are you calling? Lucy is handling everything, dont worry.
Mum, why wasnt I invited?
Mum was silent, then let out a heavy sigh.
Darling, you know why. You hardly ever call, you hardly ever visit. It hurts me.
Mum, I live three hundred miles away! I cant be there every week!
Lucy comes every week.
Lucy lives in this town! Shes half an hours drive away!
See? Shes nearby. You chose to leave.
I didnt choose! My job, my family are here!
Exactly, your family, not mine.
Emily felt helpless flood over her like a tide.
Mum, this is your jubilee, your 60th. How can I not be there?
Then you should have thought earlier, been a better daughter.
I try to be a good daughter!
Not enough. Lucy tries. I decided I want to spend my day with those who love and value me.
I love you!
Then show it with actions, not words. Sorry, Emily. The decision is final.
Mum hung up. Emily sat, phone in hand, stunned.
Victor returned home an hour later, seeing the red shadow under her eyes, and asked,
Emily, whats wrong?
She told him everything. Victor frowned, shook his head.
Thats absurd! How can you not invite your own daughter to her birthday?
Apparently you can.
And your sister? How could she allow that?
Lucy has always sided with Mum. Theyve been a pair since childhood. Im the outsider.
Victor sat beside her on the sofa.
Maybe its a misunderstanding?
No, its not. Its years of resentment boiled over.
Emily rose and paced the room.
Ive always felt guilty. For leaving. For marrying Victor against Mums wishes. For having only little Leo instead of the three grandchildren Mum wanted.
Emily, you had the right to choose.
I did, but every choice has a price.
Victor put his arms around her shoulders.
Perhaps its for the best. You wont have to endure the drama at the party.
Emily wondered. Was it really better not to go?
The next day she called Aunt Zara, always kind to her.
Hello, Aunt Zara, this is Emily.
Sweetheart! How are you?
Did you see the group chat about Mums jubilee?
Of course, Im getting a present.
Did you notice Im not on the list?
Aunt Zara paused.
I did, love. It surprised me.
And you didnt say anything?
What could I say? Mum decided. Lucy called and explained.
What did she say?
She said you rarely call, you dont give Mum enough attention. That Tamara I mean, Mum is hurt.
Emily clenched the phone.
I live far away! I cant visit every week!
I understand, dear. But Lucy is near, she drives Mum to doctors, brings groceries, helps around the house.
So Im a bad daughter because I live in another city?
No one called you a bad daughter, just that Mum wants company. Shes lonely.
She has two daughters! I call, I visit when I can, I send money!
Money isnt the same as attention. She wants you close.
I cant just move back!
No one asks you to. Just try to understand Mums feelings. Shes sixty, shes aging, shes scared.
Is it not scary for me?
It hurts, of course. But talk to her calmly. Maybe itll smooth things out.
Emily hung up, hoping for calm talks, but Mum never listened.
That evening a cousin, Oxana, messaged:
Emily, I saw youre not on the guest list. True?
Yes. Mum doesnt want me there.
Thats madness! Youre her daughter!
She calls me a bad daughter.
Shall I speak to Aunt Tamara? Maybe shell change her mind?
Try, if you wish.
Oxana promised to try. Emily doubted, but any help was welcome.
The next day Oxana called.
Emily, I spoke to your mum.
And?
Shes steadfast. She says shes tired of your indifference, that you abandoned her.
I didnt abandon!
I told her that, but shes convinced. Lucy backs her up. Theyre both firm.
I call three times a week, I visit once a monthandahalf. Thats all I can manage.
Maybe thats not enough.
How much is enough? Every day? Move in?
I dont know. She just feels left out.
I feel guilty for no reason. Enough. Im done explaining.
Emilys hands trembled. Everywhere the same refrain: call less, visit less, give less.
Her son, Leo, entered, sixteen, lanky, already looking like his father.
Mum, why are you so sad?
Just stuff.
What sort?
Emily didnt want to spill family drama, but his earnest eyes broke her.
Grandma didnt invite me to her jubilee.
Leos eyes widened.
How could she? Why?
She says Im a bad daughter.
Thats nonsense! You call, you visit, you send money!
Apparently thats not enough.
Leo sat beside her on the sofa.
Maybe skip it? If everyones that harsh, why go?
Shes my mother, Leo.
If she doesnt respect you, does it matter?
Emily looked at him. His simple logic cut straight through the fog. Yet she could not abandon family, however tangled.
A week passed. The jubilee loomed. Victor tried to distract her, to comfort her, but the ache stayed.
Lucy posted a reminder in the chat:
Jubilee is a week away. Anyone who hasnt confirmed, please do so. Need a final headcount.
Emily was still absent from the list, as if erased.
She decided on one last attempt. She drove to her hometown unannounced.
Mum opened the door, surprised.
Emily? What are you doing here?
Can I come in?
Mum reluctantly let her in. The flat was as shed left it: the old sofa, the faded rug, family photos on the mantel, now a large portrait of Lucy with her children dominating the wall.
Sit, Mum gestured to the sofa. Tea?
Yes, please.
They sat, tea steaming, silence heavy.
Im here to talk about the jubilee.
Mum set her cup down.
No need, dear. Ive already decided.
Thats wrong! Im your daughter!
Youre the daughter who left me.
I didnt leave! I left to study, to work, to live my own life!
Exactly, your own life, not mine.
Emily felt the kettle boil inside her again.
Mum, I was twenty when I left! I had the right to build my own future!
You had a choice. You could have stayed, married a local lad, had more children, been near.
Victor is a good man!
He took you away from me.
He didnt take me! We chose to live where his job was!
Mum waved her hand.
Its all the same. Youre far, Im burdened.
Lucy is nearby.
Lucy is nearby because shes a good daughter. She looks after me.
I look after you too, in my own way!
Your way isnt enough.
Emily rose.
You know what? No matter what I do, itll never be enough because Im not Lucy. I chose a different path, and thats my right.
The wrong path.
My path! And I have a right to it!
Mum also stood.
You have a right. Fine, live your life. Ill celebrate with those who value me.
Fine, Emily gathered her bag. I wont impose myself any longer. Live as you wish.
She left without looking back, tears sliding down her cheeks, unblown. In the car she sat idle, engine off, the world a hollow void. She had tried to negotiate, but Mum wouldnt hear. Perhaps this was the answer: let go.
Victor met her at the door, worry in his eyes.
How did it go?
Shes unbending.
Maybe its a blessing. Youll free yourself from that guilt.
Maybe.
Emily collapsed on the sofa, closed her eyes. The guilt that had gnawed for yearssince the day she left homepressed on her chest. Mum had wept then, accusing Emily of betrayal. Lucy had glared, and Emily had packed her suitcase, convincing herself she deserved her own life.
The day of the jubilee arrived. Emily woke heavyhearted. In her hometown relatives were setting tables, uncorking wine, laughing, toasting Mum. She stayed home, uninvited, superfluous.
Victor suggested a trip, a distraction. Emily refused. She just wanted to lie and do nothing.
Evening fell, and the family chat flooded with photos: Mum smiling at the banquet, Lucy hugging her, relatives raising glasses. Emily scrolled, feeling something tear inside. All of them were thereexcept her. She switched off the phone and went to sleep.
The next morning a call came from Aunt Zara.
Emily, love, how are you?
Fine, Aunt Zara.
I was at the jubilee yesterday. I wanted to tell you Mum looked sad all evening, smiled through the pain. When everyone left, she broke down.
Emily sat up in bed.
Why?
She said you werent there. She said her favourite daughter was missing.
The favourite daughter? She didnt invite me!
I told her youd come anyway, that youd fight for it. She said she thought youd push through, that youd prove your love.
So she didnt invite me as a test?
Seems so. Lucy called it nonsense, saying if you werent invited, you shouldnt come. They even argued about it.
And then?
Mum realised shed erred. She wanted it to be better, but it turned out the same as always. She now regrets it.
Emily lay back, exhausted.
Im tired of these games, these manipulations, these tests.
I understand, dear. But know Mum misses you. She just cant show it properly.
Then she should learn. I wont play these games any longer.
A week later Lucy messaged privately:
Emily, Mum asks why you dont call.
Why? She wont see me.
Dont be childish. She just wants attention.
She had the whole jubilee without me.
Stop whining. Call Mum, shes worried.
Let Lucy call. Shes the favourite daughter.
Lucy stopped replying. A few days later Mum called.
Emily, why arent you calling?
Because you said youd be with those who value you. I guess Im not among them.
Emily, dont be angry.
Im not angry, Mum. I just live my life, as you wanted.
I didnt want that!
What? That I quit everything and move back? That I show up daily like Lucy?
Mum was silent.
I wanted you to love me.
I love you! But I cant live the way you want!
Why?
Because thats my life! I have a husband, a son, a job! I cant abandon it for you!
Mum began to sob.
So Im not important to you.
Im important, just not the only important. Thats okay.
Mum, Ill keep contacting you, visiting when I can, helping when I can. Not every day, not on demand. If thats not enough, sorry, thats all I have.
And if you need more?
Then ask Lucy. Or find someone else.
But youre my daughter!
Exactly, a daughter, not property, not a project, not someone who must live by your rules.
Mum was quiet.
I didnt mean to hurt you with the jubilee.
But I was hurt.
I thought youd still come, prove you still cared.
Mum, if you want my attention, stop the tests. Just say you miss me, say you want me to visit, and Ill try.
When I can, Mum echoed, bitterness in her voice.
Yes, when I can. Thats better than never.
Mum wept again, but Emily didnt fall for the tears.
I have to go. Think about what I said. If youre ready to accept me as I am, call.
Emily hung up, hands shaking, yet calmer than before. She had set her boundaries. The choice now lay with her mother.
That night Victor asked,
How did the visit go?
We talked. Really.
So?
Well rebuild a new relationship. Honest, without manipulation.
Will it work?
I dont know. But well try.
EmilyAs the first gentle rain fell over the garden, Emily felt the weight lift, knowing she had finally reclaimed her own narrative.
