The phone rang so sharply I nearly dropped the kettle. On the screen flashed Agnes. It was the third call that morning from my motherinlaw. I drew a slow breath, steadied myself and hit the green button.
Hello, Agnes, Im listening, I said.
Emily, why arent you answering? she snapped, her tone dripping with accusation. Ive been calling you all morning!
I was making porridge for Poppy, my hands were full, I lied, though the truth was I simply didnt want to argue again about how I was supposedly raising my child wrong.
Again with the porridge! I told you children need meat. My Sam grew up on steak and look how sturdy he is. Your Poppy is so pale, a gust of wind will blow her away, she rattled on.
I closed my eyes and counted to five. Our daughter was only three, and the paediatrician had said she was developing normallyjust a lanky build from his side of the family.
We do give her meat, too. Tonights lunch will be meatballs, I replied.
Thats better! Im calling because Ill bring a pot of chicken broth on the bones, just the way Sam likes it, and Ill fry some cutlets with my own recipe. Not those meatballs you serve, she said, a sarcasm that felt like offering poison.
Dont worry, we have everything we need, I tried to protest.
Worry? Grandmother wants to visit her granddaughter! You wont stop me, will you? she pressed, framing the question so that any answer other than yes would be sheer rudeness.
Of course, come over, I gave in.
When the call ended I rested my forehead against the cool window pane. Snowflakes drifted outside, settling on stark branches. November was bleak and damp.
Mum, who were you talking to? Poppy peeked from the nursery, clutching a wellworn plush rabbit.
Grandma Agnes is coming today, I said, trying to sound cheerful.
Will she tell me again that I dont eat properly? she frowned.
My heart tightened. Even the child sensed the constant criticism.
She loves you very much and just wants you strong and healthy, I soothed. Poppy gave a hesitant nod and returned to her toys.
I set to cleaning. Though Simon and I preferred a creative mess, the flat had to sparkle before Agnes arrived, or else wed hear her liken it to a barn full of germs.
In two hours I swept the floors, dusted the shelves, and even baked an apple crumblethe one dish Agnes always praised.
Simon was due back from work by lunchtime. We both worked from homehim as a software developer, me as a designerbut today he had an important client meeting and was heading to the office.
The doorbell rang exactly at two oclock. Agnes was punctual as a Swiss watch.
Well, look whos here, my little bride! she announced, a short, plump woman with chestnuttinted hair, lugging several bags. Wheres my princess?
Poppy shyly peeked from the doorway.
Come here, sweetheart! Grandmas brought treats! she cooed.
The girl stepped forward and offered her hand for a kissa ritual Agnes insisted girls learn so theyd grow into proper ladies.
Only grownup girls get kisses on the hand, Agnes said, hugging her granddaughter. When youre sixteen youll be the one offering it to suitors. Until then, just say hello to Grandma.
I rolled my eyes behind her back. The contradictions in Agness parenting advice were endless.
May I help with the bags? I offered.
Yes, bring them to the kitchen. Ive prepared a lot! Sam needs a proper diet, not random scraps, she replied.
She immediately began issuing commands.
Emily, fetch a large pot. Not that plastic one, a proper metal one. And wheres the bread? Do you keep it in the fridge? You cantbread gets stale!
I handed over the requested items, trying to stay patient. After six years with Simon, Id learned his mother always knew best.
Poppy looks so pale, Agnes remarked while arranging homemade pickles. Do you take her out? Give her vitamins?
Yes, we go for walks whenever the weather allows, and we give her the supplement the doctor prescribed, I answered.
Doctors! What do those young medics know? she scoffed. Back in my day
I sighed mentally. Back then children spent the whole day outdoors and were hardened by the weather. I took Sam out in every storm, and he grew strong.
I held my tongue, though I could have reminded her that Simon had suffered from bronchitis each winter and chronic tonsillitis as a child.
Ive baked the crumble. Want some tea? I asked.
First lunch, then tea. And wheres Sam? Why isnt he here yet?
The hallway lock clicked.
There he is! she exclaimed as Simon entered, eyeing the shoes piled by the door.
Mum, why didnt you tell me you were coming? he asked, surprised.
How could I? I called Irene this morning! Agnes retorted.
I forced a guilty smile. Id forgotten to text Simon about the visit.
Hey, mum, Simon said, hugging his mother. How are you feeling?
Pressures up, my legs swell by evening, but I dont complain. We manage on our own, she replied, a familiar refrain that always preceded a litany of ailments and a reminder that her son rarely visited.
Lets get you changed; lunch is ready. Ive been at the stove since dawn, cooking your favourites, she added.
Simon shot me a guilty look; I knew how stressful these visits could be for me.
During lunch, Agnes launched into a nostalgic story about Sams early reading.
At four, he could already read! He recited poemslisten, Poppy, do you know any?
Poppy poked at her plate with a fork.
She knows a lot of verses, I interjected. Poppy, tell Grandma about the bear.
I dont want to, she muttered, pouting.
See, Sam? Shes so shy. You should send her to nursery so she can mingle, Agnes urged.
Simon, weve already discussed this. Well wait until shes four before enrolling her, he said calmly. We dont want to push her.
You push? I sent Sam to school at two, and hes fine! Your girl is a shy little thing, barely eats, Agnes shouted, raising her voice.
Can I go play now? Poppy asked.
No, finish your cutlet first, Agnes ordered.
Finish, love, I said gently, though my stomach was churning.
Poppy forced a bite. Agnes nodded approvingly.
Much better. Youre spoiling her, letting her have everything. A child needs routine and discipline. When I raised Sam
More memories of her proper methods poured out.
After lunch, Agnes insisted on putting Poppy down for a nap.
A child must nap in the afternoon! Its essential for a regular schedule, she declared.
I wanted to protest that Poppy no longer slept during the day and forcing her now would ruin her night, but Simon shook his headbetter to acquiesce than argue.
Let her rest a bit, he whispered.
While Agnes wrestled with the stubborn girl, I brewed tea and sliced the crumble.
Useless, shes completely out of hand, Agnes returned half an hour later. In our day every child obeyed!
I almost blurted, In your day you even used a strap for disobedient kids, but held back.
Shes just not tired yet, Simon soothed. Mum, try the crumbleI made it especially for you.
Agnes examined the slice warily.
Hope theres no artificial additives. Those supermarket mixes she muttered.
Nothing artificialjust flour, eggs, apples from our garden, the same you gave us, I reassured.
That softened her a little.
I remember when you first got married you couldnt even fry an egg properly, she said.
I stayed silent, though I could have reminded her of my ten years of independence and solid cooking skillsjust not the way she expected.
Sam, could you pop over next week? The tap in the bathroom is leaking and a bulb blew in the pantry. Im scared to climb a ladder, she pleaded.
Sure, Mum. Ill swing by on Wednesday, Simon replied, looking guilty.
Wednesday? Nina will be visiting then perhaps Tuesday? she suggested.
I have a client meeting Tuesday, Simon protested.
Fine, Ill just deal with the tap myself. Its not the first time, she sighed, a thin veil of selfpity.
I bit my lip. It was always the same thinveiled blackmail, endless accusations.
I can go with you to fix the tap, Simon offered, unable to bear another sigh.
Agness face brightened. Great! And while youre at it, check the hallway wallpaper. Its been up five years; it looks terrible.
Wheres Poppy playing? Its so quiet, I asked suddenly.
In her room, looking at books. I told her not to scatter her toys, Agnes answered.
I peeked into the nursery and was stunned. Poppy was carefully cutting pictures out of a brandnew storybook wed bought just yesterday.
Poppy! What are you doing? I cried.
She raised her head, unfazed. Grandma said I could cut pictures and make an album. She gave me scissors.
I snatched the expensive bookits illustrations were gorgeous, ordered online just last week.
Poppy! Thats a new book! We just started reading it! I exclaimed.
Tears welled in her eyes. Grandma said, she hiccuped.
I inhaled deeply, trying to stay calm. Its all right, love. Next time you want to cut something, ask Mum or Dad first, okay?
She nodded and clung to me as I returned to the kitchen, where Agnes was animatedly gossiping about a neighbour on the fifth floor whod had a serious health scare.
Agnes, I interrupted, keeping my voice even, did you give Poppy the scissors?
Yes, why not? Kids should learn handy skills. We used to glue and cut all the time as kids. Now everyones glued to their phones
But she ruined the new bookthe very one we just received from the online shop, I protested.
Books are just paper. Itll make a lovely album and spark her creativity, she waved it off.
Simon was caught between us.
Mum, she could have asked us first, he said cautiously.
Oh, so now I need permission to spend time with my own granddaughter? she snapped. Who am I here, an intruder?
No one speaks like that, Simon tried to calm her.
Yes, thats exactly what Im saying! she rose, flinging her coat over a chair. I come, I cook, and all I get are criticisms!
Agnes, I stood as well, no one is criticizing you. There are just limits.
Limits? she shot back. What limits between a grandmother and her granddaughter? I raised Sam alone! I know how to bring up children, unlike some who cant even make a decent lunch!
Mum! Simon shouted, voice rising. Stop it right now!
The room fell silent. Poppy peered out from the nursery, eyes wide with fear.
Grandma is shouting, she whispered.
Agnes instantly softened. Come here, my dear. Im not shouting, just having an adult conversation. Lets finish our album together, shall we?
No, I said firmly. No more cutting books. Poppy will go watch a cartoon with Dad, and well have a word, Agnes.
She tried to protest, but Simon already had his daughters hand.
Come on, love, lets watch Frozen? he suggested.
As they left, I offered Agnes a seat.
Agnes, I know you love Poppy and want the best for her. Simon and I have our own parenting style, and wed appreciate it if you respected that.
So I should stay silent when I see a child being raised the wrong way? she retorted, curling her lips.
You can suggest, advise, but not decide for us. And please stop telling Poppy she can do things we normally forbidlike cutting books, napping, or eating sweets before meals.
What, I shouldnt spoil my granddaughter? Then why do we have grandmothers? she asked.
I sighed. We were speaking different languages.
Spoiling is fine within reason, just discuss it with us first, I replied.
She pursed her lips, gathered her bags, and said, If thats how it is, Ill go. Theres nothing for me here if I cant even have a proper chat with my granddaughter.
Dont dramatise, I said wearily. Just please, lets respect each other.
Thirty years teaching, raising my son alone, and now I have to ask permission to let my granddaughter cut pictures! she muttered, pulling on her coat.
Simon stepped out, hearing the commotion.
Mum, youre leaving already?
Im going, dear. Your wife doesnt like how Im handling Poppy, Agnes replied.
Dont start, Simon, he winced. Shall I drive you home and check the tap?
Her face softened a little. If you could bring a screwdriver, theres a loose hinge on the cupboard.
When they left, I slumped onto the sofa. Poppy slipped quietly into the room, climbed onto my lap.
Mum, I wont cut books anymore, she said seriously. I didnt know I wasnt supposed to.
Of course, love, I hugged her. Youre not at fault. Just ask Mum or Dad first next time, okay?
She nodded and snuggled into me.
Simon returned an hour and a half later, exhausted but smiling.
The taps fixed, the bulbs in, the cupboards secure. Mum sends her apologies and says she wont interfere with our parenting again.
Should I believe that? I teased.
He laughed, pulled me close. No, but at least weve got a week of peace.
We both chuckled. Maybe one day our relationship with Agnes will smooth out. Maybe not. For now we have our little family, our home, our rules, and well defend them whatever comes.
A week later Agnes called, as if nothing had happened, and offered to teach Poppy how to bake pies. Its time the girl learns a proper ladys skill, or shell end up like modern kidsgood for nothing, she declared. I sighed, exchanged a look with Simon, and saw in his eyes the same resignation: this will never end. Yet well manage. After all, Agnes does want what she believes is best. Its just not the best for us.
