“If you dont want to live by my rules, then leave!” snapped Margaret at the family dinner.
“Mrs. Thompson, maybe we could try the potatoes a different way? I have a lovely recipe with mushrooms,” Emily suggested gently, stirring the soup on the stove.
“I dont need your recipes!” Margaret shot back, not looking up from peeling carrots. “Thirty years Ive been cooking for this family, and now you come along with your bright ideas!”
Emily sighed and kept stirring. It had been six months since she and David had moved in with his mother after their flat burned down. Six months of petty squabbles, disapproving looks, and barbed comments disguised as concern.
“Mum, come on,” David said as he walked into the kitchen, kissing Emilys forehead. “Ems a good cookmaybe we could try something new?”
“Oh, so now youre against me too?” Margaret threw her hands up. “Thirty-two years I raised you, fed you, and now my cooking isnt good enough?”
“Mum, thats not what I said”
“Then what *are* you saying? Margaret slammed the knife down on the cutting board. First, they barge into *my* house, now theyre telling me how to cook!”
Emily felt her chest tighten. *Barge into her house*as if they were freeloaders, not victims of a fire with nowhere else to go.
“Mrs. Thompson, I wasnt telling you, I was just suggesting,” she said quietly, turning off the stove.
“Oh, *suggesting*! Did I ask? This is *my* house, *my* kitchen! And *I* do the cooking here!” Margaret planted her hands on her hips.
David looked helplessly between his mother and wife. Emily could see him torn between them, and it only made the ache worse.
“Ill go set the table,” she muttered, slipping out without slamming the door.
In the living room, fourteen-year-old Lily sat on the sofa, doing homework. She glanced up at Emilys footsteps.
“Arguing again?” she whispered.
“Just discussing,” Emily said, forcing a smile as she took plates from the cabinet.
“Mum, when are we moving back into our own place?”
That was the painful question. The insurance had only covered part of the damage, and they were desperately short on savings. David drove lorries, she taught at a primary schoolneither brought in much. They were scraping by, but it was slow.
“Soon, love. Just a little longer.”
“I cant take it anymore!” Lily burst out. “Shes unbearable! Yesterday she yelled at me for playing musicsaid it was noise, not music! And this morning she complained I walk too loud! Im already tiptoeing!”
Emily stroked her daughters hair. Lily was well-behaved, but even her patience had limits.
“Try to bear with it. Grandmas just used to living aloneits hard for her.”
“*Grandma*?” Lily scoffed. “Real grandmas love their grandkids, but she”
“Shh, shell hear.”
“I dont care!”
A crash came from the kitchen, followed by Davids voice and Margarets shrill reply. Emily hurried back.
“What happened?”
“Your *wife* broke a plate!” Margaret snapped, pointing at the shards on the floor. “My late mother-in-laws china! The last of the set!”
David stood frozen with a dustpan.
“Mum, it was an accidentI was just trying to help carry”
“*Help*? Maybe teach your wife how to handle other peoples things!”
“Whats this got to do with me?” Emilys temper flared. “*David* broke it, not me!”
“And whose fault is that? You waltz in here, take over! Hes a grown man, but now hes clumsy as a boy! Before you, he never dropped a thing!”
“Mum, thats not fair”
“Oh, isnt it? Before marriage, you were a proper, caring son. Now? Now its all about *her*, and your mothers nothing!”
Emilys hands trembled. Six months of pent-up hurt rose in her throat.
“Mrs. Thompson, enough,” she said, quieter than she meant. “We try not to intrudewe help, we pay bills”
“*Pay*?” Margaret sneered. “A hundred quid a month! The electricity alone costs half that!”
“We offered moreyou said this was enough,” Emily reminded her.
“*Offered*! As if Im some beggar! Ive got my pensionI dont need your charity!”
David swept up the pieces, face grim.
“Mum, lets just eat. The soups getting cold.”
“Eat? Whos hungry after this nonsense?”
“We werent the ones shouting,” Emily said.
“*I* was shouting? *Me*? In my own house, I cant raise my voice?”
“You can. But why blame us for everything?”
“Blame you? For *what*? For making my life miserable? Six months I cant breathe in my own home! Music blaring, stomping about, hogging the bathroom, cooking your *quirky* meals!”
“We agreed on bathroom times,” Emily said. “And we only cook when you let us.”
“*Let you*? Hear that, David? *Let you*! As if Im the maid here!”
David sighed heavily.
“Mum, Emily didnt mean”
“What *did* she mean?” Margaret rounded on him. “That Im in the way? In my own home?”
Lily peeked in.
“Can I go to Sophies?”
“No!” Margaret barked. “Homework done?”
“Almost”
“Then *finish it*! No gallivanting about!”
Lily vanished. Emilys last thread snapped.
“Dont shout at her.”
“Dont *tell* me what to do!” Margaret stepped closer. “In *my* house, *I* decide how to speak to children!”
“Lilys *my* daughter, not yours!”
“Then raise her right! Teach her respect!”
“She *is* respectful. But screaming at her for no reason”
“No reason? That girl blares music, stomps aroundshould I just *take it*?”
“Shes studying! Shes a *teenager*its normal!”
“*Normal*?” Margarets eyes narrowed. “You know whats normal? People living in *their own homes*, not imposing on others!”
Silence fell. David stood rigid, fists clenched.
“Mum”
“What? *What*?” Margarets voice shook. “Ive held my tongue for *six months*! And youyou dare tell me how to live?”
Tears spilled down Emilys cheeksfrom exhaustion, from helplessness.
“Were not telling you. Were just *existing*. Trying not to be a burden”
“Burden? You break things, leave dishes, clog the shower with hair!”
“We clean up!”
“Liar! Yesterdayyour breakfast plate in the sink!”
“That was *yours*! *You* ate porridge and left it!”
“*Mine*?” Margarets laugh was bitter. “Now its *my* fault?”
“Mum, stop,” David cut in.
“*You* stay out of it! You married her*you* deal with it! Why should *I* suffer?”
Emily wiped her face.
“Fine, Mrs. Thompson. You wont have to suffer anymore.”
“Whats that mean?”
“It means were leaving. Tomorrow.”
“*Where*?” David paled. “Weve no money”
“Well manage. Rent a room, a flatsomething.”
Margaret faltered.
“Im not *throwing* you out”
“No. But were clearly in the way.”
“Wait,” David pleaded. “Lets talk”
“Whats left to say?” Emily shrugged. “Your mums right. Her house, her rules. We dont belong here.”
“But Im not *kicking* you out!” Margarets voice wavered.
“No. But you make every day miserable. We cant live like this.”
Margarets lips partedthen shut. She hadnt expected this.
“Emily, dont rush” David began.
“Ive thought it through. Tonight Ill call about rentals. Worst case, well stay at a hotel.”
“A *hotel*?”
“Better than daily rows.”
Margaret stared at the floor. Lily hovered in the doorway.
“Mum, should I pack?”
“Yes. We leave tomorrow.”
“*Yes*!” Lily grinned before darting off.
“Mum, say something,” David begged.
Margarets eyes glistened.
“Whats to say? If Im so
