The groom introduced me to his mother, and she handed me a stack of thirty demands.
Emily Clarke, have you lost your mind? This is absurd! I snapped.
It isnt absurd, Emma. Im just saying what I think, her colleague, Sarah, replied.
You cant tell the boss his decisions are idiotic!
Emily leaned back in her swivel chair, a wry smile touching her lips. At thirtyfive shed learned not to stay silent when things went wrong. Sarah fidgeted with her pen, glancing toward the office door.
Emma, if we keep quiet theyll stop seeing us as people. The new project is a disaster, and Im going to say it.
And now?
Now they can think what they like. My conscience is clear.
Sarah shook her head and returned to her computer. Emily checked her phonethree missed calls from Ian. She smiled. Ian had entered her life six months earlier, and everything had shifted. After a failed marriage that ended five years ago, she never expected to fall in love again. But Ian was differentattentive, caring, reliable.
She dialed back.
Hey, sunshine. Hows it going?
All right. Got into it with the boss again.
Youre incorrigible, Ians voice carried a grin. Listen, I need to have a serious chat.
Whats up?
Nothings wrong. Just my mum wants to meet you. Were going to her place this weekend.
Emilys heart lurched. Meeting the mother was a serious step. Ian had spoken of her often. Evelyn Parker, sixtyeight, a widow living alone in a cottage on the outskirts of Kent, was described as strict but fair.
Are you sure? Isnt it a bit early?
Emily, weve been together half a year. Its time. Mum keeps asking when Ill introduce her to the woman I keep talking about.
Fine, Emily sighed. Saturday?
Yes. Ill pick you up at ten. Dont worry, everything will be fine.
The rest of the week blurred into preparation. Emily bought a modest navy dress that fell just below the knee. She selected a box of fine chocolates and a bouquet of chrysanthemumsIan had told her his mum loved those flowers.
On Friday evening she called Sarah.
Can you believe Im meeting his mother tomorrow?
Oh, thats serious! Are you nervous?
Terrified. What if she doesnt like me?
Dont be silly. Youre brilliant. What could she possibly dislike?
Ian says shes strict. What if she decides Im not good enough for her son?
Emily, stop overthinking. Itll be fine.
Still, anxiety gnawed at her. She slept poorly, waking several times for water. In the morning she wrestled with her hairlet it down or tie it upand finally settled on a neat bun.
Ian arrived precisely at ten, looking unusually formal in dark trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a tailored blazer. Emily hardly ever saw him so buttonedup.
You look wonderful, he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Thank you. You too, she replied, feeling a rush of affection.
He smiled oddly, but said nothing more.
The hourlong drive gave Ian a chance to chat about work and holiday plans, but Emily only halflistened. The nearer they got to Evelyns house, the tighter her chest felt.
The cottage was a respectable twostorey home with a welltended garden. At the gate, Evelyn stood on the porcha tall, dignified woman in a sharp suit, her silver hair neatly styled, her expression unreadable.
Hello, Mother, Ian kissed Evelyns cheek. This is Emily.
Good afternoon, Mrs. Parker, Emily extended the flowers and chocolates. Pleasure to meet you.
Evelyn inspected her from head to toe, took the gifts, and gave a curt nod.
Please, come in.
Inside, everything gleamed with clinical neatnessno dust, each item in its place. The drawingroom boasted solid furniture and family photographs in matching frames.
Sit down, Evelyn gestured to the sofa. Would you like some tea?
Yes, thank you.
While Evelyn fetched tea, Emily examined the photosIan as a child, in school uniform, in military dress, at his university graduation, always with his mother by his side; his father appeared only in distant, faded pictures.
My dad died when I was fifteen, Ian murmured, noticing her stare.
Evelyn returned with a trayteapot, cups, sugar bowlall matching. She poured tea and settled opposite Emily.
Emily, Ian has told me a great deal about you.
I hope only good things.
A mix, Evelyn sipped. You work as an accountant?
Yes, for a construction firm.
Were you married before?
Emilys shoulders tensed. Shed expected the question, yet it still felt intrusive.
I was. Divorced five years ago.
Do you have children?
No.
Why did you separate?
Mother Ian shifted uncomfortably. Maybe I shouldnt.
Ian, I have a right to know who my son is involved with, Evelyn said sharply, then turned back to Emily. So why?
Our personalities clashed, Emily answered calmly.
Thats an excuse. Whats the real reason?
Emily inhaled deeply.
My husband was unfaithful. I found out and filed for divorce.
I see, Evelyn nodded. And why no children?
It just never happened.
Health issues?
Mother! Ian raised his voice. If she has fertility problems, I need to know. I want grandchildren.
Emily felt her cheeks flame. The conversation was spiraling far from what shed imagined.
I have no health issues. It was simply a failed marriage.
Fine, Evelyn placed her cup down. Now, to business. You may not have heard, but our family has certain traditions and rules. If you intend to become part of this family, you must know and obey them.
She rose, walked to a side cabinet, retrieved a folder, and handed Emily several stapled sheets.
Whats this? Emily asked, bewildered.
A list of requirements for a future daughterinlaw. Thirty items. Read carefully.
Emily glanced at Ian, who stared at the floor. She unfolded the paper.
Item one: The daughterinlaw must visit her motherinlaw at least twice a week.
Item two: She must be able to prepare every dish from the family cookbook.
Item three: She must bear a minimum of two children within the first three years of marriage.
Item four: She may not work after the birth of her first child.
Item five: All major purchases must be approved by the motherinlaw.
With each clause her eyes widened. The list dictated attire, household chores, childrearing methods, even the hairstyle she should wear.
Is this a joke? she snapped.
Im not joking, Evelyn responded coldly. These are serious demands. My late daughterinlaw adhered to them without question.
You have a eldest son?
I did. He died in a car crash with his wife three years ago. Ian is now my only child, and I will not let him marry an unsuitable woman.
Emily stared at Ian.
Did you know about this list?
He nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor.
And you said nothing?
I hoped Mum would change her mind, or that youd agree.
Agree to this? Emily stood, flinging the papers onto the table. Ian, this is medieval!
Dont dramatise, Evelyn hissed. These are reasonable expectations for a respectable woman.
Reasonable? Item fifteen says I must hand you my salary!
For the family budget. Ill allocate the money appropriately.
Item twentytwo says I cant meet friends without your permission!
A married woman need not flit about with friends.
And item twentyeight? I must live with you for a year after the wedding?
So I can teach you proper household management.
Emily shook her head, tears prickling.
This is madness. How could you bring me here knowing all this?
Emily, lets talk calmly
Talk about what? That your mother wants to turn me into a slave?
How dare you! Evelyn rose, her face flushing. I am offering fair terms. In return you will have a wonderful husband, a secure life, a family.
I am not a commodity to be bought!
All women are for sale; the price just varies, Evelyn said icily.
Emily snatched her bag.
Ian, drive me home. Now.
Emily, wait
If she leaves now without accepting my terms, its over for you both, Evelyn cut in.
Ian stood, looked between his mother and Emily, pleading in his eyes.
Emily, maybe youll reconsider? Not all points are nonnegotiable.
All points are nonnegotiable, Evelyn interrupted. No exceptions.
Emily glanced at Ian, the man she loved trapped between her and his mother, and realised whose side he truly stood on.
Take me home, she whispered.
The drive back was silent. Ian tried to speak, but Emily turned toward the window. At her doorstep, he stopped the car, faced her.
Emily, lets talk.
About what? That you lied to me for six months?
I didnt lie! I just didnt know how to say it.
You took me to restaurants, gave me flowers, spoke of love, yet you knew about this list.
I hoped shed change her mind once she got to know me better.
She doesnt even want to know me. She wants a robot to obey her commands.
Mum is lonely. After my father and brother died shes all alone. Im everything she has.
What do you have besides Mum?
He was silent.
Youre thirtyseven, a grown man. Yet you cant decide without your mothers blessing.
Its not like that
It is, Ian. Im not angry, Im sorry for you.
Emily stepped out of the car, then turned as Ian called after her.
Emily, wait! I love you!
She halted at the entrance, turned back.
If you truly loved me, you wouldnt have subjected me to this humiliation. Goodbye, Ian.
She slammed the door, stripped off her shoes, collapsed onto the sofa. Tears rose, but she held them back. Enough. No more crying over men who dont deserve her tears.
The phone rang. Sarahs voice came through.
So? Did her mum like you?
Sarah, it was a nightmare.
What happened?
Emily recounted everything. Sarah gasped intermittently.
Shes insane! And Ian brought you there like a lamb to the slaughter.
He says he loves me.
He loves his mum. To him you were just a pastime.
Dont say that.
Its the truth. A decent man would never allow this.
Emily knew Sarah was right, but the heart does not obey logic. She still loved Ian, and love does not switch off with a snap.
That evening Ian texted: Emily, lets meet, Ill explain everything. She didnt reply.
Later: Ill talk to my mum, convince her to soften the list.
Silence again.
Later still: I cant live without you. Please answer.
Emily switched the phone off.
The next morning at work she forced herself to focus on numbers, but the thirtyitem list haunted her. How could anyone in the twentyfirst century demand such things?
A secretary knocked.
Miss Clarke, theres a visitor.
Who?
An elderly lady, says its a personal matter.
Emilys brow furrowed. Could it be?
In the reception sat Evelyn Parker, immaculate in a tailored suit, handbag perched on her knee.
What are you doing here?
We need to talk.
We have nothing to discuss.
There is something. Five minutes.
Emily wanted to refuse, but curiosity won. She led the woman into a meeting room.
Im listening.
Evelyn sat, smoothing her skirt.
Yesterday you left before I finished speaking.
I heard enough.
No. You dont know the whole story.
I dont want to know.
My eldest son Andrew married against my wishes, Evelyn began, gazing out the window. I opposed his partner; she was frivolous, flighty. I knew it wouldnt end well.
And?
They married. Within a year she cheated. He forgave her, again and again. Then they died in an accident. She was with a lover at the time.
Emily stayed silent.
I found their letters after they were gone. She mocked my son, called him a rag, used his money, loved someone else.
Im sorry, but
I do not want history to repeat. Ian is my only son. I must protect him.
Protect? Youre strangling him!
Im caring for him.
Youve turned him into a puppet who cant step out without your approval.
Evelyn pursed her lips.
Ive made him a proper man.
A man at thirtyseven still living with his mother, terrified to defy her.
He doesnt live with me. He has his own flat.
But you make the decisions.
Evelyn stood.
I see this conversation is futile. Remember, if you dont accept my conditions, Ian will find someone elsesomeone who will.
Let him look. Hell probably find someone as spineless as himself.
Evelyn left, her disdain evident. Emily sat, the weight of the story pressing down, but it didnt excuse the cruel terms.
The day dragged on. Ian called several times; she ignored him. That evening as she left the office, she saw his car in the lot. He waited, hopeful.
Emily, please hear me out.
About what? That you lied to me?
I didnt! I just didnt know how to say it.
You took me to restaurants, gave me flowers, spoke of love, yet you knew about this list.
I hoped shed change her mind when she got to know me better.
She doesnt even want to know me. She wants a robot to obey her commands.
Mum is lonely. After my father and brother died shes all alone. Im everything she has.
What do you have besides Mum?
He fell silent.
Youre thirtyseven, a grown man. Yet you cant decide without your mothers blessing.
Its not like that
It is, Ian. Im not angry, Im sorry for you.
Emily walked away, Ian followed.
Emily, wait! I love you!
She stopped at the foot of the stairs, turned.
If you truly loved me, you wouldnt have put me through this. Goodbye, Ian.
She locked the door, stripped her shoes, sank onto the couch. The tears threatened, but she held them back. Enough. No more weeping for men who dont deserve her tears.
Later Sarah called.
Howd it go with the mum?
Sarah, it was a nightmare.
What happened?
Emily poured the story out; Sarahs gasp punctuated the tale.
Shes mad! And Ian brought you there like a lamb to the slaughter.
He says he loves me.
He loves his mum. To him you were just a diversion.
Dont say that.
Its the truth. A decent man would never allow this.
Emily knew Sarah was right, but the heart does not obey logic. She still loved Ian, and love does not switch off with a snap.
Weeks later, Ian sent a message: Emily, lets meet, Ill explain everything. She ignored it.
Then: Ill talk to my mum, get her to ease the list.
Silence again.
Later: I cant live without you. Please answer.
Emily turned the phone off.
At work she forced herself onto spreadsheets, but the thirtyitem list loomed. How could anyone in the twentyfirst century make such demands?
A secretary knocked.
Miss Clarke, a visitor is here.
Who?
An elderly lady, says its a personal matter.
Emilys brow furrowed. Could it be?
In the lobby sat Evelyn Parker, immaculate in a tailored suit, handbag perched on her knee.
What are you doing here?
WeEmily stood, walked out of the lobby, and reclaimed her own future.
