Cant you spare an extra bowl of soup for me and your grandson? Honestly, I dont get it!
Yes, Emily. I cant. While you were gone, everything changed, replied Margaret, not even letting her daughter step inside. Remind mewasnt it you who threw me out of your house and your life? Why should I give you anything now?
Emily rolled her eyes like a petulant child being scoldedwhich, in many ways, she still was. The belief that the world owed her something had never quite left her.
Mum, are you serious? I was pregnant back then! Hormones, stress I dont even remember what I said!
I do. Every word. How you hated me, how I had no heart, how I wanted to send my own grandson to an early grave and thats the censored version. If Im so awful, why come crawling back now?
For heavens sake, Mum! Youre a grown womanyou shouldve understood and met me halfway. Youve been through ityou know how emotions swing when youre expecting!
Even now, Emily twisted things as if Margaret were the one at fault. As if she should have smiled, bent over backwards, and danced to Emilys tune. But Margaret had had enough.
Oh, I understood you perfectly, she said slowly, folding her arms. But I didnt forgive. Emily, I can help you with money. A little. But I wont let you back in.
She wasnt just talking about the flat. She couldnt let Emily back into her *life*. Because she knewEmily would push, demand, and shatter everything Margaret had built.
A littlehow much?
Three thousand pounds. Enough to get you on your feet.
That wont even last a month! Fine, *I* can tighten my belt, go withoutbut how can you do this to your grandson? Emily pressed, launching another attack.
Margaret refused to argue further.
When people are desperate, theyre grateful for anything. If this isnt enough, sort it out yourself.
With that, she shut the door.
Fine! I *will*. But remembermen come and go, but its your children wholl bring you a glass of water in your old age. And youll get *nothing*. Youll be aloneand then youll think of me, Emily spat through the door.
Footsteps faded down the hall. Margaret sighed, leaning against the wall, biting her lip to keep from crying. It hurtbut the rift between them had existed for years.
Emily had always been spoiled. Grandparents doted on her, her father indulged her every whimif Margaret said no, Emily ran to him, and he always caved.
James, why did you give her money for tickets? You couldve asked me first! Margaret had fumed. I *told* her she couldnt go to the cinemaand its not about the money! I asked her to help your mother with the garden, and she said, *You two want it doneyou do it.*
James would wincehe knew Emily oversteppedbut wave it off.
Come on. Remember what *we* were like at her age. Let me spoil her while I can. Shell fly the nest soon enough.
In a way, he was right.
James died when Emily was fourteen. After that, everything collapsed. Emily, already difficult, blamed Margaret for *everything*catching a cold, breakups, even bad exam results.
Everyone else got tutors, and I had to manage alone. No wonder my marks were rubbish, Emily grumbled.
Margaret hadnt expected her to get into university anyway. Shed set aside savings for tuitionnot for Emilys sake, but for James.
Why even bother? Emilys no genius, her friend had said. If she drops out later, itll be worse.
She wanted it. And James wouldve wanted her to have it.
Margaret worked two jobs to support them. Coworkers called her heroic. But she was just afraid of being left with no onebecause Emily was all she had.
At nineteen, Emily announced she was moving in with a friend. Turned out, friend was Daniel. A year later, Emily was pregnant.
Mum, were having a baby! shed gushed.
Margarets legs nearly gave way.
Emily neither of you work. Where will you live? How?
The state will help, Daniels parents will chip in, *you* will and hell find odd jobs, Emily said breezily.
Margaret disliked her role in this plan. Shed hoped supporting Emily through university would be the end of her obligations. Now, it was clearthered *be* no end.
Oh, and Mum tuitions due soon. Can you pay?
What tuition? Youll drag a newborn to lectures? Take a gap year or sort the baby out. This isnt the time.
What followed was ugly. Emily claimed half of James savings were rightfully hers, accused Margaret of wanting to get rid of her grandchild, then called her a monster and shoved her out.
Margaret waited for Emily to cool off. She didnt. Next day, Margaret found herself blocked everywhere. She knew Emilys addresscouldve gonebut decided enough was enough.
At the time, it felt like losing her purpose. But nature abhors a vacuum.
After Emily left, Margaret rebuilt her life. She joined a gym, met Roberta widower ten years older, with a son, Anthony, a daughter-in-law, Sophie, and a grandson, Oliver. They welcomed her warmlyespecially Sophie.
Oliver adored her. She spoiled him with toys, baked treats, took him to feed ducks by the Thames. Soon, Sophie brought him over just because *he* asked.
Granny, can we feed the pigeons today? Oliver once asked.
The pure, uncomplicated love warmed her.
Life had colour again. Then, two years later, Emily reappeared.
Daniel had leftdecided fatherhood wasnt for him. Emily needed somewhere to live.
But Margaret wouldnt take her in. Not when Emily returned not with apologies, but demands.
*Youll be aloneand then youll think of me.* The words echoed. It *hurt*like tearing out part of her heart. But shed survived it once. She could again.
Her phone buzzedRobert, asking what to pick up for dinner, suggesting a quiet evening. Then Sophiea photo of three lopsided gingerbread men.
Oliver made these at nursery. One for me, one for Dad. The thirds for you. Can we come over?
Margaret smiled. Warmth flooded her. Which to choosean evening with Robert, or her unexpected family?
It didnt matter. Both were good. What *did* matter was thisshed once clung to Emily, terrified of being alone. Now she knewbeing needed wasnt the same as being loved.
No, she wasnt alone. And perhapsshe never would be again.
