Dont you dare dress like that in my house, hissed the mother-in-law just before the guests arrived.
Marjorie, have you seen my reading glasses? I think I left them on the side table, Edith called into the kitchen, where her daughter-in-law was preparing the evenings salad.
Check the case, Edith. I tidied the sitting room earlier and put them there, Marjorie replied without looking up, carefully slicing each vegetable into perfect slivers.
Edith pressed her lips together but said nothing. In her mind, no one should touch anothers belongingsno matter how well-intentioned. Especially not hers. Still, she bit back her words. Tonight was important, and unnecessary quarrels would only spoil it.
Today marked exactly thirty years since Edith had moved into this grand house with its high ceilings and antique furniture, passed down from her own mother-in-law. Over the decades, every corner had been shaped to her hand, every object placed just so. Though the house now legally belonged to her son, James, she still regarded herself as its true mistress.
Marjorie had lived with them for barely two years. For Edith, the marriage had been an unpleasant surpriseJames had brought home a woman hed known for only three months. Clever, university-educated, and with what Edith considered far too modern an outlook on life.
The salads nearly done, Marjorie announced, arranging the final touches on a large platter. Ill just slip upstairs to change before everyone arrives.
Youre not planning to wear that red gown, are you? Edith remarked casually, smoothing a hand over her immaculately styled silver hair.
Marjorie paused, then slowly lifted her eyes to her mother-in-law.
Thats exactly what I intended to wear, she said evenly. James chose it for me himself, for our anniversary.
Its hardly suitable for a family supper, Edith countered. Far too… revealing. What about that lovely blue dress I gave you last Christmas? The one with the high collar?
Marjorie exhaled deeply. That blue dresswhich resembled something a schoolgirl might wearhad been donned exactly once, at Ediths insistence, and then banished to the back of the wardrobe.
Edith, Im thirty-two. I think I can decide what to wear, dont you? she said, her tone gentle but firm.
Of course, Edith replied with a stiff smile. Just remember, my friends are coming tonight. People of a certain generation. They have particular ideas about propriety.
Without waiting for an answer, she swept from the kitchen, leaving Marjorie simmering with unspoken resentment.
Upstairs, James was buttoning his freshly pressed shirt. Seeing his wife, he grinned.
All set for the grand occasion?
Nearly, Marjorie said, reaching for the red gown in question. Your mothers at it againcriticising my choice of dress.
James sighed.
Ignore her. You know shes just worried about appearances in front of her friends.
Appearances? Or mine in particular? Marjorie studied the gown. It was undeniably strikingslim-fitting, with a modest décolletage and a daring slit. But hardly scandalous.
Not tonight, love, James said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. This evening means the world to her. Thirty years in this houseits been her whole life.
And Id like to keep my dignity, Marjorie murmured. Im not a child to be told what to wear.
James hesitated, torn between loyalty to his wife and reluctance to upset his mother.
Wear what you like, he conceded at last. Youd look beautiful in anything.
Marjorie kissed his cheek, swallowing her irritation for his sake.
By six oclock, the guests had begun arrivingfirst Margaret and her husband, old friends from Ediths days at the architects office, then the sharp-witted neighbour, Beatrice, followed by others of Ediths long-standing circle.
James and Marjorie greeted them in the hall, exchanging pleasantries as coats were taken. Edith presided over the dining room, arranging dishes while regaling her guests with tales of her youthful travels.
When the last of the starters had been served, Marjorie excused herself to fetch the main course. In the kitchen, she found Edith pulling a golden pie from the oven.
Ill bring the hot dishes through, Marjorie said. Theyre asking after your famous beef Wellington.
Edith nodded, but her gaze lingered on Marjories gown. The red silk clung elegantly to her figuretasteful, yet in Ediths eyes, indecent.
Couldnt you have found something more… modest? she muttered.
Edith, weve been over this, Marjorie replied, keeping her voice steady. Theres nothing improper about this dress.
In my day, a family dinner didnt call for such… exhibitionism, Edith snapped, slamming the pie onto a tray with unnecessary force.
Marjorie felt her cheeks burn. She bit back a retortnow was not the time.
Shall we return to our guests? she said instead, lifting the tray.
The dining room was alive with laughter as James recounted some office mishap. Marjorie set the dishes down and moved to take her seat, but Edith intercepted her.
Marjorie dear, would you fetch more bread? I think weve run out.
The bread basket was nearly full. Still, Marjorie nodded and turned back toward the kitchen. As she left, she overheard Edith murmur to Margaret:
Takes time to train them, these modern girls. No notion of decorum.
Marjorie froze, her fists clenching. Then she exhaled slowly and returned empty-handed.
Theres plenty of bread left, Edith, she announced, sliding into her chair beside James.
Edith shot her a sour look but held her tongue. The evening wore ontoasts, reminiscences, debates over the latest news. Marjorie played her part, smiling at jokes and fielding questions, but the tension between them thickened like storm clouds.
When dessert was served, Beatrice suddenly leaned toward Marjorie.
Youre a vision in that red, my dear! Just like one of those magazine models!
Edith forced a smile.
Yes, Marjorie does love her fashions. Though Ive always thought modesty the greater virtue.
Oh, nonsense! Beatrice waved a hand. In my day, Id have worn the same if Id had your figure! Wear what you like while youre young, I say!
Marjorie smiled gratefully. Just then, the kettle began whistling in the kitchen.
Ill make the tea, she said, rising.
Edith followed.
Ill help.
Once the door was shut, Edith rounded on her, eyes blazing.
How dare you humiliate me like this? she hissed. That dress is vulgaran insult to me and my guests!
Marjorie stepped back, stunned.
Edith, whats gotten into you? Its just a dress.
Dont play the fool! Ediths voice was low but venomous. You wore it to spite meto flaunt that my rules mean nothing to you!
That isnt true, Marjorie said firmly. I wore it because its beautifuland because your son loves it.
James is too soft! And you twist him around your finger!
The door opened, and James stood there, his expression dark.
Whats going on?
Nothing, darling, Edith said sweetly. Just discussing… fashion choices.
I heard you, Mother, James said quietly. And I dont like it.
Edith paled.
James, you dont understand
No, you dont understand, he said, stepping to Marjories side. Shes my wife. And I wont have anyonenot even youspeak to her like that.
But this is my house!
No. Its ours. Yours, mine, and Marjories. And we all deserve to feel at home here.
Silence fell, broken only by laughter from the dining room.
I never meant to cause a scene, Marjorie said. If Id known this dress would upset you so, Id have worn something else.
Edith stared between them, anger and shame warring in her eyes.
Mother, James said gently. Marjories worked all day to make this evening perfect for you. She respects you. But you must respect her tooher choices, her right to dress as she pleases.
Edith looked away. At last, she met Marjories gaze.
Perhaps I… overreacted, she admitted stiffly. But in my day
Times change, Edith, Marjorie said softly. But kindness never goes out of style. I dont want to fight. I want us to be a family.
The kettle boiled again, a reminder of the waiting guests.
Lets rejoin them, James suggested.
Edith nodded, but as Marjorie reached for the teapot, she stopped her.
Wait. I… I owe you an apology, she said haltingly. You do look lovely in that dress. Beatrice was rightwear what you like while youre young.
Marjorie stared. In two years, Edith had never once admitted fault.
Thank you, she said simply. That means a great deal.
When they returned to the dining room, the conversation had turned to the latest plays. Only Beatrice seemed to notice their absence, her sharp eyes flickering between them, though she said nothing.
The evening softened. Edith even asked where Marjorie had bought the dressfor my friend Vera, shed suit something so elegant.
As the guests departed, Beatrice lingered in the hall, waiting for James to hail a cab.
You know, Edith, she said when they were alone, Ive known you fifty years. Never once heard you apologise. Until tonight.
Whatever do you mean? Edith feigned ignorance.
Oh, spare me, Beatrice chuckled. I saw your faces when you came back. Something happened, and you admitted you were wrong. Thats progress.
You always were too perceptive.
Nojust observant, Beatrice said, patting her hand. Youve a fine daughter-in-law. And your boys happy. Isnt that what matters?
The cab arrived, and Beatrice left with a wink. Edith returned to the dining room, where James and Marjorie were clearing the table.
Leave it, she said. Well manage tomorrow. Tonight was too pleasant to end with chores.
James and Marjorie exchanged glances.
But you always say dishes mustnt sit overnight, James reminded her.
Rules are made to be broken, Edith said, smiling. Isnt that right, Marjorie?
Right, Marjorie agreed, feeling something shift between themsomething important. Especially if it makes us happier.
James embraced them both, and for a moment, they stood therethree generations, three worldviews, but one family. With all its clashes, misunderstandings, and perhaps, a new beginning.
You know, Edith mused suddenly, I think I saw a gown much like yours in Harrods, only in blue. Would it suit me, do you think?
And they laughedtogether, truly, for the first time in years.
