Happiness Came Knocking
“Mum, how much longer?” snapped Emily irritably. “Jack is twenty! Hes a grown man and shouldve been living on his own ages ago. But you still coddle him like hes some precious treasure. Its sickening to watch.”
“If it sickens you, dont look,” retorted Lydia. “Mind your own life, not ours. Youve got Oliver to raise, dont you?”
“And I *am* raising him!”
“Poorly,” Lydia cut in. “That boys running wild these days.”
“He is *not*! Hes just at *that* age! As if Jack was some perfect little saint as a teenager!”
“He wasnt a saint,” Lydia narrowed her eyes, “but he studied hard, helped around the house, never talked back. Oliver only knows how to beg for money. Thank you seems beyond him.”
“So what? Youre his grandmother!”
“And that means he doesnt have to be grateful? Just take and take? Though why am I surprised Hes just like you!”
“Whats *that* supposed to mean?!” Emily exclaimed.
“Only that Ive never heard a kind word from you. Just complaints and blame.”
“Mum!”
“What, Mum? Am I wrong? Youre raising your son to be just as selfish. Everyone owes him something. Everyones at fault. Now hes even pestering JackDont you see I need a new laptop? Ive put up with his nonsense so far, but mark my words: my patience wont last forever.”
“And then what?” Emilys eyes flashed with anger.
“Ill cut him off. Not another penny. And Ill tell Jack not to give him a thing.”
“Oh, *terrifying*,” Emily scoffed. “I thought youd come up with something worse.”
“I dont *need* to come up with anything,” Lydia frowned. “Hes my grandson, I love him. But I wont tolerate his cheek. Ill put him in his place so hard hell forget the way to our house.”
“And how will your precious Jack cope without his darling nephew?”
“*My* Jack?” Lydia spun around and fixed her daughter with a glare.
“Well *ours*,” Emily faltered. “Whats the difference? Hes so attached to him.”
Silence fell. Lydia bit back the words fighting to escape her lips.
The door creaked open, and Jack walked intall, lanky, his hair slightly ruffled. He glanced tiredly at his mother and sister.
“Again?” he asked. “Will you two ever stop?”
“Stay out of it,” Emily snapped. “This isnt about you!”
“Not me, Mum. But *that* tone! And Ive every right to step in. Who else will defend her?”
“*Right*?” Emilys lips twisted. “Your only right is to live off her and pretend everythings fine.”
“Live off her?” Jack stepped closer, voice sharp. “I work, I help around the house, I dont cause scenes. Youre the one who turns every visit into a circus.”
“Mum just doesnt see youre becoming a freeloader!” Emily exploded. “She spoils you rotten! Everythings for you, *always*!”
“Emily!” Lydia cut in sharply. “Enough. Youre being unfair.”
“Unfair?” Emilys voice cracked. “I never got half of what he has! All the care, all the affectionits all his! What did *I* get? Scraps!”
“Whats any of that got to do with me?” Jack asked quietly, stunned. “Youre the one making up grievances. Maybe thats why everyone keeps their distance?”
“Oh, *now* its *my* fault!” Emilys eyes blazed.
Jack opened his mouth to retort, but Lydia stepped between them.
“Dont you dare. Emilys your elder sister. Show some respect.”
“She doesnt respect *anyone*!” Jack shot back. “She storms in, picks fights, insults everyone. Mum, its high time someone put Emilyand Oliverin their place. Last week, Oliver took a fair bit of cash from my wallet without asking.”
A heavy silence followed.
Emilys cheeks burned. Her eyes held more than angersomething desperate, reckless.
Lydia braced herselfanother word, and Emily would snap.
But instead, Emily cried, “Thats a lie! Oliver wouldnt do that! Hes *my* sonhes no thief!”
“Emily,” Lydia said firmly, “Jack doesnt lie. But Olivers behaviour? Thats questionable. You need to talk to him. Gently.”
“Dont you *dare* accuse him!” Emily seethed.
“And dont *you* accuse *my* son of lying,” Lydia shot back.
“Your *son*?” Emilys voice turned icy. “*What* son? Hes *not* yours!”
Lydia froze.
Jack stiffened. “What Mum, whats she saying?”
“Its true,” Lydia whispered. “Im not your mother.”
For a moment, Jack just stood there, the words ringing in his skull.
Emily slumped onto the sofa, breath ragged. She hadnt meant to say it. Not like this.
***
Jack swayed slightly, unsteady. His gaze darted between Lydia and Emily, struggling to process it.
Emily opened her mouththen closed it. The words caught in her throat.
Memories crashed over her.
Shed been young. Just left school.
Fell head over heels.
Didnt realise she was pregnant until it was too late.
The boy had shrugged: “You sure its mine?”
Her parentsher still-living fatherhad been furious. Threatened to throw her out.
But theyd softened. Supported her.
When Jack was born, they doted on him.
Then her father died. Money grew tight. Emily left for London, promising to send funds. Lydia agreed to raise Jack.
The first year, Emily visited. Sent money.
Then she vanished.
A new man. A new life. A second sonOliverwho Lydia and Jack knew nothing about for years.
Even her new man didnt know about Jack.
When he kicked her out, she returned home.
Jack was ten. Oliver, five. Lydia forgave her but refused to live with her. She saw the truth: Emily felt nothing for Jack. How could she? Theyd last met when he was two. Hed called Lydia “Mum” for years.
So Lydia proposed a lie: Emily would be his sister, returned from afar.
***
Jacks voice pulled her back.
“Then who *is* my mother?” he asked, quiet, wary.
Emily shuddered. The words wouldnt come.
Lydia stepped forward, embracing him.
“Sweetheart, dont panic. The truth is Emily is your mother.”
Jack went still.
He looked at Emilycrumpled, weepingand felt only disgust.
“So you,” he said to Lydia, “are my grandmother? Or are we not even related?”
“Of course we are!” Emily burst out. “Were mother and daughter! Olivers your *brother*!”
Jack laughed bitterly. “Lucky me.”
The hatred in his eyes made her flinch.
“Right. I need time alone.”
He left.
The door clicked shut. Silence swallowed the flat.
***
Emily sat trembling. “What have I done?” she whispered. “I got my son back only to lose him. Hell hate me. And Oliver How do I explain Jacks his *brother*? He wont understand. Wont forgive Mum, why didnt you stop me?”
Lydia said nothing. Emily was mourning her own delusions. Scolding her now was pointless.
She sat beside her. “Itll be alright. Jacks kind. Hell come round.”
***
Two days passed. No calls. No word.
Then Jack returned.
He asked for the full story.
Emily tried to speak, but Jack cut her off: “Let *Mum* explain.”
Lydia did, softening Emilys choices where she could.
Jack listened.
Then, finally, he spoke.
“I get it. Youre both wondering what happens now. Heres the answer: *nothing changes*. My mum stays my mum.” He looked at Lydia. “My sister stays my sister.” A glance at Emily. “And my nephew stays my nephew.”
Emily opened her mouth
“And *you*,” Jack said coldly, “if you keep upsetting my mum, know this: Ill manage just fine without a sister.”
