Emily watches the spilled flour on the kitchen floor, trying not to let tears slip. In the dim glow of the undercabinet light, the white streaks on the linoleum look like odd snowflakes. Theres no time for poetrythe guests will arrive in an hour, and the apple cake hasnt even been started.
Making a mess again? Jamess voice cuts into the kitchen as he steps in. My mothers coming, and youre… as usual.
Emily purses her lips.
It wasnt on purpose, James. The bag tore.
Everything in your house is always breaking, falling, spilling, James snaps, flinging open the fridge and grabbing a bottle of sparkling water. Thirtyfive years old, and still as clumsy as a child.
Emily scoops the flour into a dustpan, keeping any resentment hidden. Ten years of this life have taught her to swallow her hurt.
Alright, Im off to meet my mother, James checks his watch. Have the table set by seven. Try not to embarrass us today, okay? Its her anniversary after all.
When James slams the door behind him, Emily perches on a stool and takes a deep breath. She recalls meeting James at the municipal library where she worked. He seemed attentiveshowing up daily, borrowing books she recommended, staying late to chat. Then he invited her to the theatre. She felt like a heroine from a romance novela single mother from a previous marriage who had been won over by a handsome, independent man. No one could have guessed the fairy tale would end so abruptly.
Their son, Harry, appears silently in the doorway, like a ghost.
Is that you again? he asks, nodding toward the front door.
Enough, Emily snaps. Dont bring up your stepfather.
The one who treats you like a servant.
Emily has nothing to argue with. At sixteen, Harry sees everything too clearly.
You should be doing your homework, not eavesdropping on adult conversations, she mutters, returning to the cleaning.
Harry huffs but doesnt argue. He rolls up his sleeves and starts helping his mother.
Mom, we need to talk, he says seriously. I want to apply to a university in London to study programming after school.
London? Emily freezes, holding the rag. But we agreed on the local college, the dorm, everything
And James, who will keep nagging you whenever he can, Harry interrupts. I cant watch that any longer, Mum.
Harry, thats adult life. Families have their ups and downs, Emily replies.
Its not a family, Mum. Its, he trails off, waves his hand, and stalks out of the kitchen.
By the time the guests arrive, Emily has managed to tidy up, set the table, and even bake a perfect apple tarther culinary pride. Margaret Hughes, her stately motherinlaw in an elegant dress, inspects the spread with a critical eye but says nothing. That alone feels like a small victory.
Please, sit down, Margaret, Emily says, bustling. James and Sophie will be here any minute.
Margaret eases herself into a chair, adjusting her silvergray hair.
And wheres your boy? she asks, as if talking about a pet.
Harrys in his room; Ill fetch him.
Studying, I see, she replies, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Whats the point of all that schooling? Hell end up like his father.
Emily stays silent. Margaret often dismisses her late husband, though she never even met him. Insulting a dead man feels indecent, yet Emily dares not contradict her motherinlaw.
The doorbell rings, saving Emily from further remarks. Sophie and her husband David arriveJamess sister and her successful businessman partner, whose presence always seems to set James on edge.
Happy birthday, Mum! Sophie exclaims, hugging Margaret. You look stunning! You could pass for thirtysomething!
Margaret lights up; Sophie always knows the right words.
Emily, David kisses Emilys hand, you look lovely. New haircut?
Yes, thank you, Emily replies shyly, catching Jamess irritated glance.
James begins pouring champagne, deliberately ignoring Harry, who stands off to the side.
Heres to the birthday girl! he announces. To the most wonderful mother in the world!
And to Grandma! Sophie adds. By the way we have a surprise for you.
What surprise? Margaret asks, wary.
Sophie and David are expecting a baby! Sophie declares triumphantly.
Margaret throws her hands up and weeps with joy. David beams. James forces a tight smile.
Congratulations, Emily says quietly. Thats wonderful news.
Why arent you having children yourself? Margaret asks, turning to Emily. James is almost forty and has no kids of his own. Only someone elses child lives here.
Silence falls. Emily feels a flush rise to her cheeks.
My dear, weve talked about this, James mutters through clenched teeth.
What did we talk about? That your wife is building a career? Margaret huffs. What career does a librarian have, I ask you! All my grandchildrens mums are stayathome, and Im stuck watching your son Harry. And a nice boy would be nice, too
Enough, Margaret! Emily finally snaps. Harrys right here.
Am I lying? Margaret turns to her grandson. Always skulking in your corner, never speaking. Youre thinking of London, are you? What nonsense?
Emily stares at Harry, stunned. How could Margaret know his plans?
Ill earn my own money, Harry says calmly. Ive already found a remote gig building websites.
Websites? James interjects. You should be focusing on proper studies, not this nonsense.
Its not nonsense, its my future profession, Harry replies firmly. And the pay is decent.
Who gave you permission? James raises his voice. You live under my roof, you obey my rules!
Your roof, your rules Harry mutters. Im not even your son, so I dont have to obey.
James turns beet red.
Thats the point! Not my son! And youll never be one!
James! Emily shouts. Stop this right now!
What did I say? James throws his hands up. Im speaking the truth! Ive fed and clothed him for ten years, and he gives me nothing but sits in his room staring at a computer. Now he wants to go to London behind my back!
Behind your back? Harry smirks. I dont care about your opinion. Youre nobody to me.
Harry! Emily, desperate, looks from son to husband. James, please, not today. Margarets birthday is today.
No, nows perfect! James insists. Ive tolerated your brat for ten years, and now I have to fund his London studies too?
Margaret nods approvingly, Sophie and David stare at their plates, and Harry stands pale but composed.
Ill earn it myself, Harry repeats. I dont need anything from you.
Really? James scoffs. What about a roof over your head? Food? Clothes? All mine! If you want to live like that, no London for youstudy here under my watch. Thats my condition.
Emily feels something snap inside her. Ten years of tolerating criticism, neglect, and control, all for stability, for a roof, for Harry. Now James is setting terms for her son.
Maybe thats enough, she whispers. Its Margarets birthday, and weve turned this into a circus.
Its your son who caused the scene, James retorts. As always, its his fault. And you always cover for him! Ungrateful whelp and a henlike mother. Is this how youll keep living off my neck?
Emily slowly rises from the table. The room falls into a heavy silence.
Ive spent thirtyfive years working in the public library, she says suddenly, voice steady. I have two university degrees. I never asked you to support my sonwe managed before you.
Is that so? James taunts. Seems I missed that.
Because I didnt want to see it, Emily replies. You needed a docile housekeeper, not a wife. I became that, but Im done.
What does that mean? James asks, frowning.
It means, Emily turns to Harry, that Harry and I are leaving.
Dead silence fills the room.
Youre out of your mind, James finally stammers. Where are you going?
First to my sisters place, Emily says calmly. Then well find a flat. Ill get a better jobmaybe even in London.
Harry looks at his mother with awe. Hes never seen her like this.
Thats nonsense, James laughs nervously. Youll starve without me. How much do you earn at the library? Pennies! How will you pay rent?
Thats none of your business, Emily snaps. By the way, Im not just a librarian; Im the head librarian, and my salary is respectable. You never bothered to ask.
Dont speak to me like that! James turns to Margaret. Did you hear? We have a careerwoman in the house!
Your mother has heard enough, David interjects. And perhaps thats enough. Its her birthday, not a circus.
What are you doing, James? he snaps. Youre ruining a family.
What family? David shakes his head. The way you treat your wife and stepson, there are no words.
David, stop, Sophie tries, but its too late.
Dont, Sophie, James snarls. Well see about that.
Its time, David says firmly. Ive watched this nightmare for ten years. Enough. James, youve become a tyrant. If Emily leaves, thats the best thing she can do.
Margaret gasps in outrage.
How dare you! My son does everything for them, and they
Mom, Sophie cuts in softly. David is right. Look at whats happening. Its horrible.
Without waiting for the argument to swell, Emily quietly walks out, Harry following. In the bedroom she grabs a suitcase and begins packing the essentials.
You serious? Harry asks, eyes wide.
More than serious, Emily nods. Gather your things. Were leaving.
But he stammers, we cant just walk out. We need money, a place to stay
I have savings, Emily pulls a small tin box from the wardrobe, one James never knew existed. Not much, but enough for a start. My sisters been asking me to move in for ages, and I have yousmart, talented, wanting to be a programmer. Well manage.
A knock at the door. Sophie stands there.
Youre really leaving? she asks quietly.
Yes, Emily says firmly. Weve had enough.
Sophie hesitates, then pulls a wallet from her bag and hands Emily an envelope.
Take this. Its from David and me. Weve wanted to help but were afraid James would find out.
Olya, I cant
You can, Sophie interrupts. Youve endured my brothers bullying for ten years, and my mothers nonsense too. Accept this, not as charity, but as compensation for the hurt youve endured.
Emily pauses, then takes the envelope, gratitude and relief mixing in her eyes.
Thank you, she whispers. And sorry for ruining the celebration.
Celebration? Sophie waves her hand. Maybe now James will finally think about his behaviour. Though I doubt it.
When Emily and Harry step into the living room, tension hangs heavy. James sits scowling, Margaret purses her lips, and David watches with a faint smirk.
Were leaving, Emily says simply. Thanks for everything, James, and sorry if anything went wrong.
James tries to stand, but his words choke.
No drama, David says, grimacing. Were done. Need a ride?
No, thanks, Emily shakes her head. Well take a taxi.
The door closes behind them, and Emily feels an extraordinary lightness, as if a tenyearheavy backpack has been dropped. Harry squeezes her hand, just like when he was a child.
Youre amazing, Mum, he whispers. Im proud of you.
Thanks, love, Emily smiles. You know, maybe London really is the right move. A new city, a fresh start
They descend the stairs and step into the courtyard. Early May drifts by, the hawthorn trees filling the dusk with a sweet scent.
Emilys phone buzzes. The display shows Jamess number.
Dont answer, Harry says quickly.
Emily shakes her head and picks up.
Emily? Jamess voice roars through the line. Come back right now! I wont let you walk out! If you want to keep that child, you stay. Thats my condition!
Emily laughs, a sound she hasnt heard from herself in years.
You no longer have the right to set conditions for me, James, she says firmly. No more conditions. Never.
She hangs up, flags down a taxi, and they drive away toward their new life.
Back in the flat on the fourth floor, James throws the phone against the wall in fury, then turns to Margaret, expecting support. Margaret looks at him with a strange, dawning expression, as if seeing him clearly for the first time.
You really are unbearable, James, she finally says, a faint smile breaking through. How did I not notice before?
She weeps, not out of spite but from a deep, quiet sorrow for the mistakes that raised a selfish son who cant love. And perhaps, just perhaps, its not too late to change.
