“Dont even think about moving in with me.”
*”Why on earth should I be looking after some random old woman? Shes nothing to me!”* snapped the daughter-in-law, arms crossed defiantly.
Olivia felt a sudden rush of heat, her breath catching in her throat. There was Julia, sprawled across the sofa in *their* living roomhers and Simonsbelly swollen with the baby due any day now. And yet, despite having barely a penny to her name, she carried on as if she owned the place.
Simon, meanwhile, sat beside her, holding her hand in silence. Whether he agreed or just hoped the problem would sort itself outas usualwas anyones guess.
*”Julia, love, dont you think youre making a mountain out of a molehill?”* Olivia kept her voice steady. *”Margarets perfectly capableshe cooks for herself, and you know shed do the same for you.”*
*”Yeah, *now*,”* Julia scoffed. *”But who knows what shell be like in a year?”*
*”Exactly. No one knows,”* Olivia pointed out. *”And God forbid *you* need help in a years time? Thats what familys forhelping each other, not making demands.”*
*”Oh, so you just want to dump your elderly mum on us!”* Julia shot back. *”What if she starts losing her marbles? I wont feel safe leaving her alone with the baby!”*
Olivia and Simon exchanged glances. This was *his* mother they were talking about. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair but bit his tongue. Losing his temper would only make things worse.
Olivia, though, had had enough.
*”Julia, no ones forcing you,”* she said coolly. *”Margaret offered out of kindnessshe wanted to take you under her wing. If you dont like it, carry on as you are.”*
No wonder Olivia was furious. Margaret had never made *her* such offers. Back when she and Simon were first married, struggling in a rented flat with dodgy neighbours, Olivia had hoped they could all live together. But Margaret had adjusted her glasses and said firmly:
*”Olivia, Ive got nothing against you, but dont even think about moving in with me. This is *my* home, and it always will be. My mother used to say: the farther apart a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law live, the better they get on. So visit all you likeIll help with money if you need itbut we *wont* be sharing a roof. Two women running one kitchen? Never works.”*
Olivia had been hurt at the time. But years later, she realised Margaret had been right. Their relationship *was* goodmaybe not warm, but never bitter. Margaret helped from a distancebirthday money, babysitting, advice when askedbut never interfered.
With Julia, though? A very different story was unfolding.
*”Simon, love, why the rush?”* Olivia had asked when he announced the wedding. *”Youve only been on your own two monthswhy not live together properly first? See if it works?”*
*”Mum, its just a piece of paper. Makes Julia feel secure. I can always divorce her,”* hed shrugged.
Now, seven months into that *”piece of paper,”* their baby would soon be waking them at all hours.
When Olivia found out Julia was pregnant, she nearly lost it. *How* could they afford a child? They could barely feed *themselves*!
Then, out of nowhere, Margaret stepped in.
*”Olivia, Ive been thinking”* she said. *”Let Simon and Julia move in with me. Theres a spare room, and theyll need to savefor the crib, maternity leave”*
*Maternity leave.* Olivia knew Simon wouldntcouldntsupport them alone. He floated between jobsshop assistant, waiter, call centreno career, no real drive.
Margarets offer was a lifeline. But Julia? She wanted more.
*”Its a nice idea,”* she told Olivia later, *”but wouldnt it be better if *you* took Margaret in instead?”*
Olivia blinked. *”Why on earth?”*
*”Well, youve got three bedrooms, just the two of you With us, itd be cramped. And with the baby coming”*
Olivia was speechless. Then Julia outright said it: *”I dont want to look after your mum.”*
And when Olivia suggested they drop the whole thing, Simon finally spoke upnot to defend his mother, but to *agree* with Julia.
*”Mum, dont overreact,”* he said, as if *she* was the one causing drama. *”It just makes sense. If Gran wont move in with you, then well, *you* could move in with *her*. You dont need all that space. But well have a *son*.”*
Olivia stared, stunned.
Thats when Simon *snapped*. *”Kids, get out. Well talk later.”* His voice was icy. They knew that toneone more word, and hed throw them out himself.
Simon led Julia away, despite her protests. Later calls were tensetesting the waters. But Olivia stood firm: take Margarets offer or fend for yourselves.
They chose the latter. Didnt even invite Olivia and Simon to the hospital when the baby was born. It stung, but Olivia shrugged it off.
Then, six months later, Margaret called, cheerful as ever.
*”Olivia, darling! Im doing a big clear-outfancy helping? Freeing up the spare room. Simons finally moving in! Ill get to spoil my great-grandson. Not *completely* useless yet!”*
Olivias heart sank. Shed never told Margaret the truth. But now? She had to.
*”Margaret Can I be honest?”*
*”Go on, then.”*
Olivia told her everythinghow theyd talked about her like some senile burden, Julia calling her *”some random old woman.”*
*”I see. Thank you for telling me,”* Margaret said quietly.
The next day, Simon texted:
*”You made Gran change her mind, didnt you? Didnt think youd stoop so low.”*
Olivia didnt hesitate. *”Thank Julia. She didnt want to live with her. Now she wont have to.”*
Then she turned her phone to silent and got ready to leave. She was going to visit Margaret. Funny, reallyher mother-in-law had ended up *closer* to her than her own son. Because Margaret never schemed, never demanded. And shed been right all along.
Distance *did* bring them closer. Not alwaysbut in *this* family, it had.
