Ivy Clarke was startled by the abrupt ring of her phone. The screen flashed Agnes Hart. It was the third call that morning from her motherinlaw. Ivy drew a long breath, steadied herself and pressed the green button.
Hello, Mrs. Hart, Im listening, she said.
Evelyn, why arent you answering? Ive been calling all morning! Agness voice was tinged with thinly veiled reproach. Im calling, Im calling!
I was making porridge for little Ethel, my hands were busy, Ivy replied, while in truth she simply didnt want to hear another lecture about how she was raising her child.
Again with the porridge! I told youchildren need meat! My son Tom grew up on steak and look how sturdy he is. Your Ethel is as pale as a sheet; a gust of wind will blow the colour right out of her, the matriarch scoffed.
Ivy closed her eyes and counted to five. Her daughter was only three, and the paediatrician had confirmed she was developing normally. Her slight frame was a sidenote from her fathers side.
Mrs. Hart, we do give her meat as well. Tonight shell have meatballs for lunch, Ivy said.
Good! Thats why Im calling. Ill drop by today with a chicken broth, bones and all, just the way Tom likes it. Ill also make my special cutlets. Your meatballs will have to wait
Ivy winced. The word cutlets sounded like a thinly veiled threat, as if she were offering the child poison.
Dont worry, we have everything we need, Ivy tried to reassure herself.
Worry about what? Grandmother wants to see her granddaughter! You wont stop me, will you? Agness question left no room for a no.
Of course, come on over, Ivy surrendered.
When the call ended, she rested her forehead against the cool window pane. Outside, occasional snowflakes drifted down, landing on bare branches. November had turned a dull, damp gray.
Mum, who were you talking to? Ethel peeked from the bedroom, clutching a threadbare plush rabbit.
Grandma Agnes is coming today, Ivy replied, forcing a cheery tone.
Is she going to say I dont eat enough again? the little girl frowned.
Ivys heart ached. Even the child sensed the constant criticism.
Grandma loves you very much and wants you to grow strong and healthy, Ivy said, though Ethel only gave a halfhearted nod before returning to her toys.
Ivy set about tidying. Though she and James preferred a creative, slightly chaotic home, the flat had to sparkle before Agnes arrived, or else shed be sure to remark that in such a mess, germs would throw a party. In two hours Ivy swept the floors, dusted the surfaces and even baked an apple crumblethe one dessert her motherinlaw always praised.
James was due back from work at lunchtime. Both worked from homeJames as a software developer, Ivy as a graphic designerbut today he had an important client meeting and was heading into the office.
Exactly two hours later the doorbell rang. Agnes Hart was as punctual as a British railway timetable.
Well, look whos here, my dear daughterinlaw! the short, plump woman with chestnutcoloured hair declared, stepping into the flat laden with bags. Wheres my little princess?
Ethel shyly emerged from her room.
Come here, sweetheart! Grandmas brought treats!
The girl walked over and extended a tiny hand for a kiss, a habit Agnes had insisted on, believing girls should grow up as proper ladies.
Only grownup ladies get handkisses, Agnes murmured, bending to hug her granddaughter. When youre sixteen youll be the one offering a hand to gentlemen. Grandmothers just say hello.
Ivy rolled her eyes just out of sight. Contradictory instructions were a daily feast from Agnes.
Mrs. Hart, may I help with the bags? Ivy offered.
Yes, put them in the kitchen. Ive prepared a lot! Tom needs proper meals, not whatever you toss together.
In the kitchen Agnes immediately began issuing commands.
Evelyn, fetch the large pot. Not the plastic oneget a proper metal one. And where do you keep bread? In the fridge? Thatll turn it stale!
Ivy fetched the requested items with practiced patience. After six years of marriage she was accustomed to her motherinlaws insistence on the right way of doing everything.
Ethel looks a bit wan, Agnes noted, arranging jars of pickles on the counter. Are you taking her for walks? Giving her vitamins?
Yes, we go out every day if the weather allows, and we give her the supplement the paediatrician prescribed, Ivy replied.
Paediatricians! What do those young doctors know? Agnes scoffed. In my day we kept children outdoors from dawn till dusk and they grew up tough as old boots. Id take Tom out in any weather.
Ivy kept silent, remembering that James had suffered chronic bronchitis each winter and a bout of tonsillitis as a child.
Ive baked a crumble. Want some tea? she asked.
First lunch, then tea. We do things in order. And wheres Tom? Why isnt he here yet?
Just then the hallway door clicked open.
Here he is! Agnes exclaimed.
James entered, looking flummoxed at the pile of shoes in the entryway.
Mum? Why didnt you tell me you were coming? he asked.
How could I not? I called Ivy this morning! Agnes retorted.
Ivy gave James a guilty smile; she had forgotten to forward the message about the visit.
Hey, Mum, James said, hugging his mother. How are you feeling?
Oh, the blood pressures up, my legs swell by evening, but Im not complaining. We manage ourselves, dont want to be a burden, she replied, the sort of line that always came with a litany of ailments.
Come, get undressed, Ill heat up the lunch. Ive been standing over the stove all morning, making your favourite dishes, she added.
James shot a apologetic glance at Ivy, knowing how stressful these visits could be.
At the table Agnes launched into stories of Toms early reading and poetry recitals.
At four he could read! Hed recite verses that would make you swoon. Ethel, do you know any poems? she asked.
The girl pushed her cutlet around with a fork.
She knows many verses, Ivy interjected. Ethel, could you tell Grandma about the bear?
I dont want to, the girl muttered, pouting.
See, James? Shes so shy, she needs a playgroup. More children would make her chatty, Agnes said.
Weve decided to wait until shes four before we enrol her, James replied calmly. No need to rush her development.
Rushed? I handed Tom over when he was two and he turned out fine! Your girl is like a shy fawn, wont eat, wont speak, Agnes snapped.
Ethel pushed her plate away.
Can I go play now? she asked.
Not until you finish your cutlet, Agnes declared.
Finish it, love, Ivy encouraged, though she felt a storm brewing inside.
Ethel forced a bite, and Agnes nodded approvingly.
Much better. Youre spoiling her too much. A child needs routine and discipline. When I raised Tom
The afternoon drifted into a chorus of oldtime advice. After lunch, Agnes insisted Ethel take a nap.
A child must nap in the day, no exceptions! How can you break a routine? she proclaimed.
Ivy wanted to argue that Ethel no longer napped and that forcing her would ruin her nights sleep, but James gave a gentle shake of his head. Let her lie down awhile, itll do her good, he whispered.
While Agnes tried to settle the stubborn girl, Ivy brewed tea and sliced the crumble. Half an hour later Agnes returned, looking disgruntled.
Useless, shes completely out of my grasp. In our day kids obeyed, she grumbled. Ivy almost blurted, Maybe she just isnt tired yet, but held her tongue.
Try the crumble, Agnes. I made it especially for you, James suggested.
Agnes examined the piece suspiciously.
Hope there are no artificial additives. Those storebought mixes are terrible, she warned.
Its all naturalflour, eggs, apples from our garden, the same garden you gave us the seedlings for, Ivy assured.
That softened her a little. Youve learned, I see. When you first married, you couldnt even fry an egg properly, she teased.
Ivy stayed silent, though she could have reminded Agnes that shed run her own household for ten years before marriage and was perfectly capable in the kitchen, just not the way Agnes preferred.
Tom, could you pop over next week? The kitchen tap is leaking and the cupboard light is out. Im scared to climb a ladder; I might fall, Agnes said, eyes pleading.
Sure, Mum. Ill swing by Wednesday, James replied, already feeling guilty.
Wednesday? I have Nicky visiting then maybe Tuesday? Agnes pivoted.
I have a client meeting Tuesday, James replied, arms spread.
Fine, Ill just deal with the tap then. Its not the first time, she sighed.
Ivy bit her lip; the thinveiled blackmail and endless reproaches never ceased.
I can go with you today, James offered, trying to defuse the tension.
Agness face lit up. Great! And while youre up, could you look at the wallpaper in the hallway? Its been there five years; its getting shabby.
Wheres Ethel playing? Its too quiet, Ivy asked suddenly.
In her room, looking at books. I told her not to scatter her toys, Agnes answered.
Ivy peeked into the bedroom and froze. Ethel was carefully cutting pictures from a brandnew picture book theyd bought the day before.
Mum! What are you doing? Ivy exclaimed.
Ethel looked up, unfazed. Grandma said I could cut pictures and make a scrapbook. She gave me scissors.
Ivy snatched the ruined bookan expensive, beautifully illustrated volume James had ordered online. Ethel, thats a brandnew book! We just started reading it yesterday! she said, tears welling in the girls eyes.
The Grandma said Ethel whispered, sobbing.
Ivy breathed deeply, trying to stay calm. Its alright, love. Next time you want to cut something, ask Mum or Dad first, okay?
She returned to the kitchen where Agnes was animatedly chatting with James about a neighbour on the fifth floor who had a serious health scare.
Mrs. Hart, did you give Ethel the scissors? Ivy asked, keeping her voice even.
Yes, why not? Children should learn handy skills. We used to glue and cut all the time. Now everyones glued to their phones, Agnes replied.
But she destroyed a brandnew book we ordered, Ivy said, fighting frustration.
A book is just paper. Shell have a lovely album now. It builds creativity, Agnes retorted.
James stepped between them. Mum, could you have asked us first? he said gently.
Ah, so now I need permission to spend time with my own granddaughter? Who am I, a stranger here? Agnes shot back.
No ones saying youre a stranger, James tried to soothe.
Youre saying I shouldnt intervene? Agnes countered. I raised Tom alone! I know how to bring up children, unlike some who cant even make a decent lunch!
Mum! James raised his voice. Stop this right now!
Silence fell. Ethel peeked out, eyes wide. Grandma is shouting, she whispered.
Agnes instantly softened. Come here, my sweet. Im not shouting, just talking. Lets finish our scrapbook together, alright?
No, Ivy said firmly. No more cutting books. Ethel will watch cartoons with Dad now, and well have a word with you, Agnes.
Agnes opened her mouth to protest, but James already had his daughters hand.
Shall we watch Frozen, princess? he suggested.
As they left, Ivy invited Agnes to sit down.
Mrs. Hart, I know you love Ethel and want the best for her. James and I have our own approach to parenting. Wed appreciate it if you could respect our boundaries, Ivy said.
So I should stay quiet when I see something I think is wrong? Agnes asked, lips pursed.
You can suggest, you can advise, but the final decisions are ours. And please, dont tell Ethel she can do things we normally forbid, Ivy added.
For example?
Cutting books, staying up late, eating sweets before meals, Ivy replied.
So Im not allowed to spoil my granddaughter? Then why do grandmothers exist?
Ivy sighed. You can indulge, just in reasonable limits and in consultation with us.
Agnes pursed her lips, began gathering her bags. If thats how it is, Ill be on my way. Nothing left for me here if I cant even have a proper chat with my granddaughter.
Dont dramatise, Ivy said, weary. Just please, lets respect each other.
Thirty years teaching, raised my son alone, and now I must ask permission to teach my granddaughter to cut pictures! Agnes muttered, pulling on her coat.
James emerged from the hallway, hearing the commotion.
Mum, youre leaving already?
Yes, darling. Your wife doesnt like the way Im with Ethel.
Dont start, Mum. Let me give you a lift and check the tap while Im at it? James offered.
Agnes brightened a little. If its not too much Bring a screwdriver; the cupboard hinge is wobbly.
When they left, Ivy sank onto the sofa. Ethel slipped onto her lap.
Mum, I wont cut any more books, she promised solemnly. I didnt know it was wrong.
Of course, love, Ivy hugged her. Youre not to blame. Next time, ask Mum or Dad first, okay?
Ethel nodded, snuggling close.
James returned an hour and a half later, tired but smiling.
The taps fixed, the bulbs replaced, the cupboards steady. Mom sends her apologies and says she wont interfere with parenting again.
Should I believe that? Ivy teased.
James sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her. We cant be sure, but at least well have a quiet week. They laughed.
Perhaps one day their relationship with Agnes would smooth out, or perhaps it never would. Yet they had each other, their home, and their own rules. They would protect that, no matter what.
In the end, Ivy realized that love from a family member, however overbearing, is still lovebut love must be balanced with respect for each others boundaries. Only then can a household thrive in harmony.
