Surprise! Im moving in with you, my motherinlaw announced, wheeling a massive suitcase into the hallway of our twobed flat.
Emily froze, clutching a dishcloth. Shed just finished the dishes after dinner, savoring a rare quiet evening James had gone to the corner shop for a loaf, the kids finally drifted off after endless coaxing. And then, boom, the front door opened and in she came, suitcase in tow.
Hello, Mrs Thompson, Emily stammered, trying to process the shock. Why didnt you tell us?
Helen Thompson waved a hand, shrugging off her coat. Why bother? I came to see my son, not to bother strangers. I thought, whats the point of being alone in my little flat? Sergei and Emily are struggling with the kids, so Ill help. Decision made, suitcase packed, and here I am!
Emily swallowed hard. This couldnt be happening. Theyd only just started to settle into married life after their second child arrived. Little Lucy was three, baby Oliver was eight months. Their cramped tworoom flat was already tight for four, and nowher mothermoving in permanently?
Does James know? Emily asked, hoping it was some mistake.
Nope, not yet, Helen winked, scanning the hallway. Hell love it! He always says he misses my pies. Ill bake every day, watch the kids while youre at work. Everybody will be happy.
Just then the front door opened again James was back. Emily opened it, eyes wide with worry. He carried a grocery bag and froze when he saw his mother.
Mum? he said, bewildered. Whats going on?
Sweetie! Helen threw her arms around him. Ive decided to move in with you. For good!
James glanced from his mother to Emily, his expression pleading. Emilys eyes silently begged for a lifeline.
How for good? James asked, hugging his mum. What about your flat?
I rented it out for a year, Helen announced proudly. You told me you were short on cash and the kids were a handful, so Ill collect rent and pass the money on to you. Ill stay here, cook, clean, look after the grandchildren. Hows that for help?
James scratched his head, clearly taken aback. Hed complained about the workload, but never imagined his mum would take it that seriously.
Darling, weve got a tiny flat, he began gently. Even were cramped
Dont worry! Helen cut in. I wont take up much space. We could put a sofa in the lounge, or I could stay in the kids room with Lucy while you and Oliver use the main bedroom.
Emily let out a quiet sigh. The thought of splitting the family across rooms was exactly what she feared.
Tea? she offered, buying a moment.
Delightful! Helen replied, rummaging through her suitcase. Ive got some treats for you.
While Helen dug around, Emily pulled James into the kitchen.
What are we going to do? she whispered, halfclosed the door. I cant survive if she stays!
Calm down, James muttered, eyes darting to the hallway. Im shocked, but shes my mum. I cant just turn her away.
Its impossible, Emily pleaded. The nursery is Lucys crib, Olivers cot. Our bedroom is a squeeze. The sofa is already tiny. Where could another adult possibly fit?
I get it, James sighed. Maybe its only temporary? Until she settles down? Then we figure something out.
Temporary? Emily snapped. Shes got a yearlong lease! Imagine if she lives here for a year shell interfere with everything. Ill lose my mind!
Dont blow it out of proportion, James frowned. Mum means well.
For whom? Emily choked, tears threatening. For herself? Decent people ask first, then move.
Before they could finish, the kitchen door burst open and Helen walked in, smiling, a box of chocolates in hand.
Whats all the whispering about? she asked cheerfully. Planning a surprise?
Just household stuff, Emily forced a smile. Have a seat, Mrs Thompson, teas coming.
Tea didnt smooth things over. Helen chattered about a neighbour whod also moved in with her son, about the tidy tenants shed taken on a young, quiet couple. Emily nodded, stealing glances at James, who looked drained.
Where do you plan to sleep? James finally asked.
I thought the lounge sofa, Helen replied. But I could stay in the nursery with Lucy if you prefer. Shell love having Grandma around.
The nurserys already packed, Emily warned. Two cribs, a wardrobe, barely room for a chair.
Fine, the lounge then, Helen said breezily. Im not picky. Ill get up early, make breakfast, so youre not rushed for work.
Emilys mind raced. Helens reputation for oversalty soups, burnt meatloaves and brickheavy pies was well known. This was the smallest of her worries.
Mrs Thompson, Emily began, gathering courage, we really appreciate your help, but didnt we need to discuss this first? Our flat is tiny, the kids are little
Whats there to discuss? Helen waved a hand. Grandmas a blessing! I see James looking exhausted, you looking tired. Ill cook, watch the kids, run errands. Thats what Im here for.
And your flat? Emily pressed.
I already rented it for a year! Helen snapped, the edge in her voice turning steel. Its decided. Would you leave your own mother out on the street?
James cleared his throat, laying a hand on Emilys shoulder. No ones getting thrown out, Mum. Its just unexpected. Well have to get used to it.
Exactly, get used to it, Helen smiled, heading to the lounge to unpack.
Emily turned to James. What now?
I dont know, he admitted. Lets see how it goes. Maybe shell realise its too cramped and move back.
She deliberately signed a yearlong lease! Emily snapped. No way out!
Dont panic, James tried to soothe her. Well sort it out.
The next morning, Helen was up at six, clanking pots, waking the kids. Lucy whined, not wanting to rise, Oliver bawled. Emily, exhausted from a sleepless night, shuffled into the kitchen to find Helen had reorganised every cupboard and drawer.
Ive put everything in order, Helen announced proudly. Your pantry was a disaster!
Emily stared at the nowchaotic shelves, where years of careful placement had vanished.
My system is gone, she whispered. I dont even know where anything is.
Youll get used to it, Helen brushed her off. Breakfast is ready scrambled eggs with tomatoes. James loves that!
Emily stared at the burnt edges of the eggs. James detested tomatoes in his eggs, preferring onions and cheese, but she didnt have the energy to argue.
The day unfolded in tension. Helen kept pointing out how Emily wasnt folding Jamess shirts properly, how she changed Olivers nappy wrong, how she was too lenient with Lucy. By evening Emily was on the brink of a breakdown.
When James came home, Emily pulled him into the bathroom the only private spot.
I cant take this, she whispered, tears welling. Shes remaking everything! Lucys been crying all day because Grandma wont let her play with her favourite doll, saying its too worn and unhygienic!
Emily, hang on a bit, James sighed. Mum means well, she just doesnt know her limits.
Talk to her! Emily begged. Explain you cant have her barging in and changing everything.
Ill try, James promised, though he didnt plan to do it that night. Shes already made dinner again, oversalted borscht and hard meatballs. Ill at least eat it so she doesnt feel hurt.
Dinner was barely edible, but James forced himself through it, giving a halfhearted compliment. Emily barely touched her plate, each bite feeling like a choke.
That night was even worse. Oliver refused to sleep, Helen kept popping into the bedroom with advice. He finally drifted off at two in the morning, and at six the kitchen erupted again.
The chaos went on for a week. Emily was a fog of sleep deprivation and stress. The kids suffered from the new rhythm imposed by their grandma. Even James, whod initially defended his mum, began to see the strain.
Mom, we need to talk, he said one Friday night after the kids finally slept and Emily had locked herself in the bathroom.
Honey, whats up? Helen asked, pausing her knitting shed claimed the armchair in the lounge as her favourite spot, knitting a sweater James absolutely hated.
Its about you living here, James began cautiously.
What about it? Helen bristled. Am I a burden?
No, not at all, James waved his hands. Its just we have our own routine, our own way of raising the kids.
And you think thats wrong? Helen shot back. Kids sleep whenever, eat whatever. Im trying to bring some order!
The kids are ours, James replied. We have our own parenting style.
My style is better! Helen snapped. Youre not grateful for my help. Im trying to do whats best.
Mom, Im grateful for everything you taught me, but times have changed. We need to find a balance, James said, his patience wearing thin.
Fine, Helen said, pausing her knitting. So what now? Im supposed to just stand back?
Maybe we can work out some ground rules, James suggested. No moving things without asking, no changing the kids schedule, no criticism of Emily. In return, well gladly accept your help where its actually needed.
Helen pursed her lips. So Im doing everything wrong?
Yes, James said softly. Just sit quietly, like a mouse. Dont jump in on the grandchildren unless we ask.
Emily watched from the sofa, feeling a tiny spark of hope.
Okay, Helen finally murmured. Ill try.
James sighed in relief. Great. Lets see how it goes.
The next day they started hunting for a flat nearby. Within a week they found a modest onebedroom somewhere on the same street. The rent was reasonable, especially with the income Helen still received from her former tenants. She moved out, still coming over each morning to watch the kids and each evening to cook, but now she had her own space.
A month later, Helen was indeed there every day, looking after Lucy and Oliver while Emily and James were at work. With her own roof over her head, she was calmer, her critiques softened. Emily learned to appreciate the help where it genuinely fit, and the household settled into a new rhythm.
One evening, after the kids were tucked in and Helen had gone home, James pulled Emily into his arms.
You did brilliant thinking with the flat, he whispered. Moms happy, were happy, the kids get their grandma every day.
Emily laughed. I was terrified when she first showed up with that suitcase.
You just didnt get to taste her famous pies yet, James teased, and they both chuckled, recalling the first disastrous attempts at her cooking.
Later that weekend the whole family gathered at Helens new place for a proper Sunday roast. Helen finally managed a decent borscht, Emily stopped snapping at every little thing, the children romped with Grandma without fear of having their toys taken. Watching it all, Emily thought, sometimes the most unexpected surprises turn out for the bestif you meet them with a bit of patience and a dash of cleverness.
