Emily lingered at the kitchen table, eyes fixed on the glossy apple slices glinting on the board as Margaret, her motherinlaw, wielded a knife with theatrical flair, humming a halfremembered rhyme about a traditional apple cake. The chatter from Margarets mouth drifted like steam, but Emily heard only the ticking of the old wall clock.
For a month now Margaret had lodged with them, and the air in the modest terraced house in a leafy suburb of Oxford had grown thick with unspoken pressure. Emily loved James; their fiveyear marriage had been a quiet garden of content, yet the recent weeks had planted a seed of doubt, a whisper that perhaps she had married too quickly into the family of her motherinlaw.
Emily, youre not listening! Margaret snapped, pausing midstory and pursing her lips. Im saying James needs a new job. That design firm is a circus! I spoke to my friend, shell take him into her construction company better pay, clear promotion path. He could be a foreman in a year, and you could stay at home.
Emily inhaled deeply, battling the sting of irritation. Mum, James chooses his work. Hes an adult.
Of course hes an adult, but youre his wife! You must steer him, advise him. Those sketches of yours thats not a mans work! Margarets voice rose, a swirl of disapproval.
James is an architectdesigner and hes brilliant, the firm is reputable, and he loves what he does, Emily said, teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Hes happy.
Happy? What about the money? That firm pays peanuts! And children? Youll need to raise them someday. What will you teach them?
Were not planning children yet, Emily whispered, though the topic had been revisited many times. We have enough saved.
Not planning? Margaret set the knife down, turning her gaze sharply to Emily. I knew it! Five years and no little ones. I was raising James at your age!
Emily fell silent. She longed for children, dearly, but not now. She had just defended her doctoral thesis and secured a senior lecturer post at the university. James had promised total support; she needed three more years to cement her academic career before any thoughts of a nursery.
Margaret, interpreting the hush as acquiescence, continued, Look at Lucy, my friends daughter three kids already, and her husbands a solid builder who put a roof over the family.
Margaret, James and I will decide our own path, Emily tried again, gathering composure. I respect you, but
What do you mean decide ourselves? Margaret snapped. Im his mother! I know whats best for both of you. Youre still young, inexperienced. A mothers advice never errs.
Emily shook her head and slipped away from the kitchen. The argument evaporated as she climbed the narrow staircase to the upstairs bedroom of the little house theyd bought two years earlier with a mortgage. She flopped onto the bed, eyes closed, feeling the weight of university lectures, grading scripts, and the relentless nagging of her motherinlaw pressing down like a heavy duvet.
That evening James returned, weary yet smiling. You wont believe it they promoted me to lead designer on a new project! he announced, planting a kiss on Emilys cheek.
Congratulations, love! she beamed.
James, whats the project? How much are they paying? Margaret interjected, eyes bright with curiosity.
Its a highend residential development. The pay will rise, James replied, buoyant.
By how much? Margaret pressed.
Mom, its not the point, James muttered, a faint frown creasing his brow. Were fine.
Fine? And the mortgage? The car? Your old clunker is about to fall apart! Margarets tone turned militant. Look at Sarahs son
Im not Sarahs son, James cut her off, laughing nervously. Lets just eat.
During dinner Margaret resumed her lecture series. James kept mostly silent, while Emily felt a bubbling irritation growing like a storm cloud. After the meal, alone in their bedroom, she could no longer hold back.
James, I cant take this any longer! Your mum is everywhere your work, our plans, our life! When will she leave?
Emily, she just wants whats best, James sighed. Shes always like that.
I know, Emily nodded. But its one thing when she visits on weekends, another when she lives with us fulltime!
Its temporary, James tried to soothe. Shes renovating her flat.
How long does a oneroom flat take to renovate? A month already passed!
You know how Mum is everything must be perfect. Hang in there a little longer, okay?
Emily swallowed, realizing she could not drive her motherinlaw out. Patience was all she had left.
The next morning, as Emily prepared for work, Margaret appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.
Emily, we need to talk, she said, perching on the edge of the bed.
Im in a rush, perhaps this evening? Emily tried to deflect.
No, no, its important. Ive been thinking you should quit your job.
What? Emily froze, hairbrush in hand. Why?
Because you need to have children! You cant keep postponing forever. I spoke to James yesterday, he also wants a baby.
James? Emilys heart pounded. Did he actually say that?
Well, not outright, Margaret mumbled, but I can see it in his eyes. He dreams of a son!
Emily set the brush down, meeting Margarets earnest stare.
Margaret, I appreciate your concern, truly. But James and I have already agreed to start a family in three years. Now isnt the right time.
Not the right time? When will it be? When youre forty? I raised James at your age Margarets hands fluttered.
I know you raised him, but the world has changed, Emily replied. Career and family can coexist.
Exactly! In my day the family came first, now everyone chases a ladder. Youth today! Margaret lamented.
Emily checked the clock. I must go. Well discuss this again tonight with James.
The day slipped by in a blur of lectures, student consultations, and a departmental meeting. Emilys mind drifted back to Margarets words, wondering if perhaps the motherinlaw was right, if James secretly yearned for a child now, afraid to voice it.
When they returned home, a festive dinner was laid out. Is there a celebration? James asked, slipping off his shoes.
Of course! Margaret announced, clinking a glass. A family council!
Emily felt a knot tighten; she sensed the topic before it unfolded.
Margaret poured wine, then declared, I have news! I spoke to Mrs. Green, the director of a large construction firm, and shell offer James a senior position!
James choked on his drink. Mum, what are you talking about?
Your new job! she beamed. Mrs. Green wants you as head of the design department. Double the salary!
What department? James asked, bewildered.
The design department, of courseyoure an architect! Margaret rattled off, handing him a stack of glossy pamphlets.
James pushed the papers away. Im happy where I am.
But James, think of the future! Think of children! How will you raise them on this salary? Margaret pressed.
We have no children yet, James reminded her.
Thats why its urgent! Emily, youre planning to leave your job, arent you? Margaret blurted.
What? Im not leaving! Emily shouted, flustered. I never said that!
But we discussed it this morning! Margaret seemed genuinely shocked. You said youd consider my suggestion!
I said wed revisit it tonight, Emily clarified. And were not quitting. Were waiting three years.
James nodded, his face a mix of frustration and resignation. Emily saw the pressure weighing on him.
Three years? Thats absurd! Youre already thirty! In three years youll be thirtythree, thats risky! Margaret exclaimed.
Many people have children after thirty, James tried to calm her. I was twentytwo when I was born, that worked fine.
Its not right! Margaret insisted. I want the best for you both. I want grandchildren!
James spoke gently but firmly. We understand, Mum, but this is our life, our decision.
Your life! Margaret rallied. And I want it happy! Emily, you must see that a career isnt everything. Family is.
Emily inhaled deeply. Margaret, I value both my career and a future family, but on my own timetable.
The dinner ended in a quiet, tense hush. Margaret retreated to her bedroom, James sat staring at his plate, and Emily whispered, James, do you really want a baby now?
He looked up, eyes weary. No, love. We agreed on three years. I just feel the pressure from your mum.
Maybe we should talk to her, Emily suggested. Explain that we cherish her care, but need space.
Ill speak to her tomorrow, James said. Tonight wont help.
The next morning Margaret behaved as if nothing had happened, asking about Emilys schedule and preparing breakfast. That evening Emily found her at the computer, typing furiously.
Good evening, Emily said, stepping into the room. What are you doing?
Oh, Emily! Margaret startled, closing the browser. I was just writing to a friend.
Emily caught the screens title: How to convince people to have children.
Margaret, can we talk? she asked.
About what, dear? Margaret feigned innocence.
About your need to control our lives, Emily replied, voice steady. Youre a mother, but not ours.
Control? Margaret gasped. Im helping! Advising! Thats what mums do!
Yes, youre Jamess mother, not mine. Were adults who make our own choices.
Margaret shook her head. A mother always knows best.
Perhaps, Emily conceded, but ultimately the decision rests with us.
James returned, looking uneasy. My director called today, asking about my salary and prospects.
What? Emily asked.
The director said some odd woman was inquiring about me, James explained, fists clenched. Mum, you crossed a line.
I was just checking you were okay! Margaret protested, hands outstretched. Why did I call?
This is beyond caring, James said, voice low. We need boundaries.
Boundaries? Margaret echoed, confused. Im your mother! There are no boundaries.
Exactly, there should be, James replied calmly, his grip tightening. We deserve privacy.
Margarets eyes welled. I only want whats best for you both.
Emily placed a gentle hand on Jamess shoulder. Mum, we love you, but we must live our own lives.
Silence settled like a thick fog. Emily suggested, Shall we have a cup of tea?
James nodded. Tea sounds perfect.
Margaret, still teary, gave a small, reluctant smile. The next morning she announced she was moving back to her flat, her renovation finally complete.
Emily approached her at the door. Youre always welcome to visit, just dont interfere with our lives.
I understand, dear, Margaret said, hugging Emily tightly. I only ever wanted the best.
Emily returned the hug, feeling, for the first time, a genuine connection.
When Margaret finally left, the house fell into a calm hush. Emily and James breathed a sigh of relief, savoring the freedom to decide their own future. Three years later, as they held their newborn daughter, Lily, Margaret cradled the tiny hand, eyes shining.
Shes perfect, she whispered. You made the right choice after all.
Emily and James exchanged a smile. Their journey had been tangled with love, control, and misunderstanding, but they had arrived at the place they wanted.
Later, over tea, Margaret said, Ive learned that best is different for everyone. Its when each of us decides our own path.
James chuckled, You always wanted whats best, Mum. We appreciate it.
Emily added, Its not just about wishes, but about what actually happens. And we have a wonderful family now.
Margaret looked around the roomher son, his wife, and her granddaughterrealising this was the dream shed always held, only the road to it had been far more winding than she imagined.
