I woke up to a clatter and saw my motherinlaw rummaging through my dresser.
Enough, Mum! Davids voice boomed through the flat. Were adults, we can sort this out ourselves!
Emma froze by the hob, ladle clenched in her fist. David and his mum had been at each other for about twenty minutes, and the argument showed no sign of ending.
Im your mother! Margaret strutted in the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest. And I have every right to know where youre spending your money!
Darling, Im thirtyfive, I have a wife and a child. Whats it to you how much I earn or where I put it? Emma snapped.
Because somethings off, thats why! I came yesterday and the fridge was emptyclearly you havent been to the shop!
Emmas stomach dropped at the mention of her name. She turned to Margaret.
The fridge isnt empty, I just havent gotten to the supermarket yet. I was planning to go this evening, she said.
Evening, huh? Margaret sneered. You sit at home all day and still cant buy basic groceries?
Im not at home, Im on maternity leave. Lily is only eight months old!
In my day we stayed at home, but we kept the house spickspan and boiled borscht for the husband every night! Margaret declared.
David ran a hand over his face. Mum, please, lets not start this again.
Im not starting anything, Im stating facts! Look at hershes a mess, in a robe half the day! Margaret gestured at Emma.
Emma felt her cheeks flare. She was indeed in a cosy houserobe, hair pulled into a loose ponytail. But after feeding Lily, doing a load of laundry, hanging up the sheets and making breakfast, she hadnt had a minute for herself.
Margaret, perhaps you should head home? Youve got things to do, Emma managed as calmly as possible.
My business is looking after my sonif hes not raised properly, its on me! Margaret shot back.
Enough, Mum, go! David grabbed her elbow. Please, stop making this harder.
Margaret yanked her arm free, snatched the handbag from the table and declared, Fine, Im leaving! But remember, David, I see whats happening in this house, and sooner or later youll sort it all out yourself!
She slammed the door shut. David stood in the kitchen, breathing heavily.
Sorry, Emma, he said, exhausted. She kept ringing from sunrise, then turned up unannounced.
Its okay, Emma said, returning to the stove. Im used to it.
Getting used, though, was another matter. Margaret had been meddling since the first day they were marriedcriticising how Emma cooked, cleaned, dressed, and raised Lily. She turned up unannounced, inspected the fridge, peeked into cupboards.
David tried to defend his wife, but he was a son; he couldnt snap at his mother. Emma, meanwhile, swallowed her frustration. What else could she do?
Theyd been married four years. Theyd met at the factorys accounts departmentDavid a department manager, Emma a junior accountant. He courted her with flowers and polite dinners. She fell in love for the first time, truly.
Margaret never liked Emma. At their first meeting shed sized her up from head to toe and mused, Well, Davids chosen a modest one. Id hoped for someone else, though Emma never learned who that someone else was supposed to be.
After the wedding the nitpicking began. Margaret would show up with a checklist, find dust in corners, underseasoned soup, dishes left unwashed. She lectured on how a wife should love her husband and run a household.
David initially protested, then grew accustomed. Hed wave a hand and mutter, Its my mum, cant help it, ignore it.
But you cant ignore someone who calls every day, asking whats for dinner, how David looks tired, implying Emmas a poor wife.
When Emma got pregnant things got worse. Margaret monitored every bite, every vitamin, every doctors appointment. After Lilys birth she practically moved inshowing up daily to demonstrate how to swaddle, feed, rock.
Emma endured it all for David, for the family, but her reserves were running dry.
One night, after Lily finally fell asleep, Emma collapsed onto the sofa beside David.
David, its getting too much, she confessed. Your mum has no sense of boundaries.
I know, he wrapped an arm around her. But she lives alone, shes lonely.
Loneliness isnt an excuse to barge into other peoples lives.
Shes not other, Im her son.
And Im? Emma asked, halfsmiling.
David sighed. Emma, lets not argue. Im tired.
She fell silent. He was exhausted; she was toohours of childcare, cooking, cleaning, laundry, then Margarets complaints. David, of course, had work stress to add.
She got up, went to the kitchen, finished her cold supper, washed the dishes, checked Lilystill sleeping soundly, little nose twitching. She returned to the bedroom.
David was already halfasleep. Emma crawled in, pulled the quilt over herself, shut her eyes, but sleep refused. Margarets words replayed in her head, and the thought that shed be back tomorrow loomed.
A rustle woke her. She opened her eyes to dark outside; the clock read 5:30am. Something was moving.
She listened. A soft shuffling came from the bedroom. Lily? No, she was still tucked in. David? He was still lying, unmoving.
Emma propped herself up on an elbow. The noise came from the dresser in the corner. She stored her underwear, papers, odds and ends there.
In the dim light she saw a figurea womanleaning over an open drawer, rifling through things.
Emmas mouth went dry. Whos there? How did you get in?
The figure turned, and under the glow of the streetlamp filtering through the curtains, Emma recognised Margaret.
Margaret! What are you doing in my dresser at six in the morning? Emma demanded, sitting up.
Oh, I just woke up, Margaret said, as if nothing was amiss. Didnt mean to disturb you.
Im looking for napkins, Margaret added, pulling a soft square from the drawer and holding it up. My nose is stuffed, needed to blow my nose.
Napkins are in the kitchen, not in the bedroom, Emma replied.
I didnt know, Margaret said, snapping the drawer shut. I thought Id look around.
Emma stepped closer, eyes narrowed. How did you even have a key?
My son gave me a spare when Lily was born, just in case.
And you decided six oclock was the right time to use it?
I get up early. Wanted to help with my granddaughter so you could get some rest.
Help by rifling through my personal things?
Margaret straightened, trying to look dignified. I wasnt rummaging! I was just looking for a napkin.
What napkin? You were digging through my underwear!
Youre being rude, Margaret snapped. You have no right to speak to me like that.
David stirred, opened his eyes. Whats happening? he mumbled.
Ask your mother! Emma shouted, feeling the heat rise. Shes in my dresser, snooping around my things at six in the morning!
David sat up, rubbing his eyes. Mum, why are you here?
I wanted to help, Margaret said, feigning innocence. And now Im being accused of theft!
I never said you were a thief! I asked what you were doing in my dresser! Emma retorted.
Looking for napkins! Margaret repeated.
What napkins? In my underwear drawer? Emma exploded. Do you think Im an idiot?
Lily, hearing the raised voices, began to whimper from the next room. Emma scooped her up, soothing, Shh, love, its all right.
The argument continued in the bedroom while Emma clutched Lily. David tried to mediate, Margaret defended herself, Emma kept repeating that Margaret had been in her personal space without permission.
Eventually, Margaret sat on the edge of the bed, still clutching the napkin like a trophy. I was really looking for a napkin. I thought it might be on the nightstand, didnt see it, opened the drawer
My underwear! Emma shouted. Thats where you were!
I didnt see in the dark! Margaret protested.
Stop it! David raised his voice. Both of you, be quiet!
Lilys cries grew louder. Emma stepped out of the bedroom, heading back to the kitchen to finish a bottle. She wondered what had driven Margaret to invade her privacy. What was she really after?
David entered the kitchen, watching Emma feed Lily. Honey, Mum has gone.
Okay.
Did you really believe the napkin story? he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.
What do you think? She was looking for napkins, or something else? Emma replied, eyes still on Lily.
David shrugged. Hard to say. Maybe she really was looking for something, maybe not.
Emma sighed. I just want my boundaries respected.
David, after a sip, said, Alright, lets not make a mountain out of a molehill. Mum just helped, I guess.
Help by turning my bedroom into a rummage sale? Emma retorted.
He muttered, She has a spare key, thats why.
Then take the key away! Emma demanded.
Why? What if she needs it in an emergency? David asked.
Im not asking for an emergency, Im asking for privacy.
David stood, grabbing his coat. Im going to talk to my mum. Ill find out what really happened.
Ask her why she was in my dresser! Emma shouted after him.
David slammed the door. The flat fell into a heavy silence. Emma sat on the sofa, head in her hands, wondering how shed ever get her life back on track when her husband seemed to side with his mother more than with her.
David returned late, around eleven. Emma was already in bed, eyes wide open.
So? he asked.
She was looking for napkins, wasnt she? Emma said.
Mrs. Clarke says she was just trying to help. She couldnt find the napkins in the kitchen, so she thought they might be on the nightstand, David replied.
Emma, youre making accusations, Margaret interjected over the phone earlier, but Im sorry if I overstepped.
Emma took a deep breath. I apologise for my tone. I was upset.
Margarets voice softened. I understand. Ill return the spare key. I wont pop round unannounced again.
The key was handed back through David. Margaret promised to call ahead before any visits. Their interactions became polite, occasional, and far less intrusive.
Emma and David gradually found a new balance. Emma still kept an eye on the dresser, but the tension eased. Margaret, now more guest than gatekeeper, helped with Lily on weekends when asked. David, caught between mother and wife, learned to listen to both without automatically defending one over the other.
The whole dresser debacle taught Emma that setting boundaries is essential, even when it hurts. It also showed her that once boundaries are respected, healthier relationships can grow. And, she decided, shed never again let a surprise earlymorning rummage through her personal belongings go unaddressed.
