“We didnt invite her,” murmured Emily under her breath as she caught sight of her mother-in-law standing in the doorway.
“Mum, when is Grandma coming?” asked little Sophie, smearing the last of her porridge across her plate.
“I dont know, love. Maybe she wont come at all,” replied Emily, stacking the breakfast dishes.
James looked up from his newspaper, frowning at his wife.
“What do you mean, she wont come? Mums always been here for Sophies birthday. Its tradition.”
“Well, let it stay a tradition in your dreams, then,” Emily muttered, clattering the mugs into the sink.
Seven-year-old Sophie frowned, glancing between her parents. She hated it when they spoke to each other like thisespecially about Grandma.
“But I want Grandma to come! She always brings me presents, and we go to the park, and she tells me stories about princesses!”
“Sophie, go brush your teeth, or well be late for nursery,” Emily cut in.
The little girl pouted but obediently slid off her chair and trudged to the bathroom.
“Emily, what are you doing?” James said quietly, stepping closer. “Shes been looking forward to this.”
“And whose fault is that?” Emily spun around. “Your mother decided she wouldnt visit anymore after that conversation last time.”
“What conversation? You just told her what you thought about her way of parenting!”
“I told her the truth!” Emilys voice rose. “She spoils Sophie rotten! Every time she leaves, it takes me a week to get her back to normal’Grandma lets me’, ‘Grandma buys me’!”
James clenched his fists, then exhaled sharply.
“Mum just loves her. Shes been alone since Dad passedSophies her only joy.”
“Oh, joy! And Im the one who has to deal with the aftermath!”
From the bathroom came the sound of splashing water and Sophie humming a nursery rhyme.
“Lets not do this in front of her,” James pleaded. “She doesnt deserve this.”
Emily dried her hands on a tea towel, slumping into a chair.
“James, Im not a monster. I feel for your mum. But she constantly criticises me, undermines everything I do. Last time, she actually said I was a bad mother because I wouldnt let Sophie have ice cream before bed!”
“She just cares in her own way”
“Her own way!” Emily snapped. “And I dont know whats best for my own child? Shes *my* daughter!”
Sophie burst out of the bathroom, her chin still dripping.
“Mum, Dad, lets call Grandma ourselves! Tell her we miss her *so much*!”
Emily and James exchanged glances. In his wifes eyes, he saw exhaustion, something close to defeat.
“Come on, Sophie, hurry up,” Emily said softly. “Or Mrs. Thompson will tell us off for being late.”
The day passed as usualnursery drop-off, work at the small accounting firm where Emily spent hours punching numbers into spreadsheets. The job wasnt exciting, but the pay was steady, and thats what mattered.
At lunch, her colleague Rebecca raised an eyebrow.
“Youre quiet. Trouble at home?”
“Just family drama,” Emily sighed. “Mother-in-laws upset, wont visit. Sophies crushed.”
“What happened?”
Emily stirred her now-lukewarm soup absently.
“Rebecca, maybe I *am* a nightmare. But she never stops telling me how to raise my child! ‘Emily, why isnt Sophie wearing a jumper? Its chilly!’ ‘Emily, bedtimes too early, let her play!’ ‘Emily, she looks paledo you even take her outside?'”
“Thats just love,” Rebecca offered.
“Oh, I know all about *her* love. When James was little, she dragged him to doctors for every sniffle. Wrapped him up like a mummy, never let him play outsidescared hed catch cold or scrape his knee. And look how he turned outstill terrified of making decisions!”
Rebecca snorted.
“And now she wants to do the same with Sophie?”
“Exactly! Id rather she didnt come at all than have her nitpick everything I do.”
But the words lacked conviction. Deep down, Emily pitied her mother-in-law. And Sophie. Even James.
That evening, after Sophie was asleep, they sat at the kitchen table in silenceJames flipping through a magazine, Emily pretending to solve a crossword.
“Listen,” James finally said. “Should we call Mum? Sophies birthdays next week.”
Emily looked up sharply.
“You want to call her?”
“I dont know. You told her if she didnt like how we raised Sophie, she shouldnt come. She took it to heart.”
“James, I didnt *kick her out*! I just asked her to respect our parenting. But she stormed off, said awful things”
“She was hurt”
“*Mum*! *Mum*!” Emilys voice cracked. “Youre thirty-two! You have your own family, your own child! When will you start being a *husband* and *father* instead of just her *son*?”
James went pale, jaw tight.
“Thats not fair.”
“Isnt it? Your mothers spent your whole life making decisions for you. She even picked your wifeshame I didnt meet her ‘perfect daughter-in-law’ standards!”
“Thats not true”
“Remember what she said when we got married? ‘Well, James, lets see how Emily handles married life.’ Like I was on *probation*!”
James stood, pacing the kitchen.
“Fine. Maybe Mum oversteps. But shes not our enemy. She just worries”
“She wants *control*! And you know ityoure just too scared to admit it!”
“Alright,” James sighed. “We wont call her. If youre that against it”
“Im not against it!” Emily blurted. “I just need her to understand *boundaries*! To visit as a *grandmother*, not a *second parent*!”
“Then what do you suggest?”
Emily sank back into her chair, head in her hands.
“I dont know. Honestly, I dont.”
The next day at nursery, Sophie got into a fight with an older boy, Daniel. The teacher pulled Emily aside.
“Mrs. Carter,” Mrs. Thompson said sternly, “Sophies been very aggressive lately. Hitting, shoutingwhats going on at home?”
Emilys face burned.
“Nothing unusual. Just normal family life.”
“Children sense tension. Sophie keeps asking when Grandmas coming. Today, she yelled at Daniel, ‘Youre mean, like Mummy!'”
Emilys stomach dropped. Sophie had heard everything.
“Ill talk to her,” she promised.
“We have an excellent child therapist”
“No, thank you. Well handle it.”
At home, Emily sat beside Sophie, who was silently building with blocks.
“Sweetheart, lets talk.”
“About what?”
“About what happened at nursery. Mrs. Thompson said you hit Daniel.”
“He said Grandmas never coming back because *you* sent her away!” Sophie burst into tears. “I said hes lying, but he laughed!”
Emily pulled her close.
“Oh, darling, no one sent Grandma away. Grown-ups just disagree sometimes.”
“Whats ‘disagree’?”
“When people see things differently. But we still love Grandma.”
“Then why isnt she coming?”
Emily hesitated. How could she explain what she barely understood herself?
Sophie wiped her eyes.
“Mum, can we *go* to Grandmas? On the bus, like last time?”
“Love, its far, and she might not”
“Lets *call* her! Right now!”
Looking into her daughters hopeful eyes, Emilys resolve crumbled.
“Alright,” she whispered. “Well call.”
The phone rang too long. When Margaret finally answered, Emilys throat went dry.
“Margaret? Its Emily.”
Silence. Then, coolly:
“Yes?”
“Sophies birthday is coming. Shes been asking for you”
“Ill wish her happy birthday over the phone.”
“But she *wants* you here! She misses you”
“And you?” Margaret interrupted.
Emily faltered.
“I I do too. Margaret, lets talk properly. No shouting, no grudges.”
Another pause.
“Put Sophie on.”
“Grandma!” Sophie squealed. “When are you coming? I can read *proper books* now!”
Emily only heard one side, but Sophies face fell.
“But I *want* you at my party! All my friends ask where you are Why cant you come? Whats ‘grown-up problems’?”
Sophie handed the phone back, lip trembling.
“Emily,” Margarets voice was weary. “She shouldnt suffer because of us.”
“I agree.”
“Then tell mewhat do I do thats so *wrong*? Why do you hate me?”
Emily leaned her forehead against the wall.
“I dont hate you. But it feels like you dont trust me as a mother. The constant advice, the criticism”
“I just want to help! I raised James”
“*Shes my child*! *Mine*! And I have the right to raise her *my way*!”
“You do. And I have the right to my opinion.”
Emily forced herself to breathe.
“Margaret, when you criticise everything, it makes me feel like a failure. But Im trying. I love Sophie more than anything.”
A long silence. Then, quietly:
“I love her too. Maybe we just love her differently.”
“Maybe.”
“Emily if I visit, if I step back a littlecould you try to be kinder?”
Something unclenched in Emilys chest.
“I can try.”
“Then Ill come. For Sophies birthday. Just two days.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
“No. Thank *you*. For not cutting me out of her life.”
Hanging up, Emily found Sophie watching her intently.
“Mum, is Grandma coming?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“And you wont be cross with her?”
“Ill try not to be.”
Sophie flung her arms around Emilys neck.
“Ill be *extra good*, so you dont argue!”
That night, telling James about the call, Emily felt strangely calm.
“Maybe we were both wrong,” she admitted. “I overreacted. Your mum overstepped.”
“Shes always struggled with boundaries,” James said.
“And Ive always needed to be in control. Not great either.”
“Dyou think itll work?”
“I dont know. But we owe it to Sophie to try.”
On Sophies birthday, Margaret arrived with a huge cake and a small bouquet for Emily.
“We didnt invite her,” Emily whispered, then smiled and said louder, “But were *so* glad youre here.”
Margaret handed her the flowers.
“Lets start over. Ill be just Grandma.”
“And Ill be a better daughter-in-law.”
Sophie barrelled into the room, flinging herself at Margaret.
“Grandma! You *came*! I thought you didnt love me anymore!”
“Silly girl,” Margaret choked out. “How could I *not* love you?”
Watching them, Emily realisedtheyd kept the one thing that mattered. The love. They just had to learn how to share it.
The party went smoothly. Margaret held back her advice; Emily bit back her retorts. Sophie was happy. That was enough.
As Margaret left, she squeezed Emilys hand.
“Thank you. For the second chance.”
“Thank *you*. For loving Sophie.”
“*Our* Sophie,” Margaret corrected, smiling.
And for the first time in years, Emily believedthey might just make this work.
