This isnt your celebration, snapped my daughter-in-law, eyeing my dress with disapproval.
Lydia Whitmore froze in the kitchen doorway, a tray of scones clutched in her hands. The new blue dress with lace trimbought specially for her granddaughters birthdaysuddenly felt ridiculous.
What do you mean, not mine? she asked, bewildered. Sophies turning fifteen. Im her grandmother.
Youre a guest, Julia cut in, not looking up from chopping salad. Im the host. And I decide how guests should dress.
Edward, Lydias son, sat peeling potatoes at the table. At the sound of the argument, he glanced up but quickly dropped his gaze again, pretending not to hear.
Julia, love, what are you saying? Lydia set the tray down. Sophies my granddaughter. I have every right to dress nicely for her party.
You do, Julia agreed, still slicing. But not like that. Do you really want everyone staring at you instead of the birthday girl? Sophie should be the centre of attention.
Lydia sank into a chair beside her son, fighting back tears. Shed spent ages picking that dress, trying it on again and again, thrilled at how youthful it made her look at sixty-two.
Mum, maybe you could change? Edward suggested quietly, eyes fixed on the potatoes. Youve got other dresses.
Old ones, she corrected. This is new. I bought it just for Sophie.
Exactly, Julia interjected. You bought it specially, without considering that youre not the only woman at this party. Ive got a lovely dress too, and I wont have us looking like rivals.
Lydia stared at her daughter-in-lawtall, slim, twenty years younger, with a trendy haircut and expensive makeup. What rivalry could there possibly be?
Julia, this isnt a competition. Were family.
Which is why Im asking you to change. Theres a hierarchy. Im the mother. I should look my best.
Edward finally lifted his head.
Jules, come off it. Mum looks lovely. Whats the harm?
None, she replied coolly. I just dont want people thinking Ive let myself go if my mother-in-law outshines me.
Lydia stood.
You know what? Ill just go home.
Dont be dramatic, Julia waved her off. Just wear something plainer. That grey dress you wear to the office.
Thats for work, not a birthday party!
And the blue ones for a daughter-in-laws party, not a mother-in-laws.
An awkward silence fell. Edward set down the knife, glancing between them.
Enough. Its Sophies day. No scenes.
Just then, the birthday girl burst into the kitchena tall girl with plaits, glowing with excitement.
Gran! She threw her arms around Lydia. You look gorgeous! Like a princess!
Thank you, sweetheart, Lydia murmured, hugging her back.
Mum, show Gran your dress! Sophie turned to Julia. You tried it on yesterday.
Julia forced a smile.
Later. When Ive changed.
Why not now? Sophie frowned.
Go tidy your room, darling. Guests will be here soon.
Sophie shrugged and dashed off. Julia turned back to Lydia.
Lydia, Im asking politely. Is it really so hard to compromise?
Try seeing it from my side, Lydia said. Imagine your mother-in-law telling you not to dress nicely for your own childs party.
I dont have a mother-in-law, Julia said flatly. Eds mother died when he was little.
Edward flinched but stayed silent. Lydia knew the storyJulias father had left, and Edwards mother had passed from cancer when he was ten. Maybe that explained Julias sharpness about older women.
Julia, Lydia said gently, I understand its hard. But Im not competing with you. I just want to look nice for my granddaughter.
And I wont be overshadowed in my own home.
Sophie reappeared.
Mum, why does Gran have to change? I love her dress.
Sophie, grown-ups are talking.
But its my birthday! I want Gran to look pretty!
Go to your room!
Sophie stormed out in tears.
See what youve done? Julia accused.
You upset her, Lydia shot back.
Me? I just want to look my best for my daughter!
By stopping others from looking nice?
Edward slammed his fist on the table.
Thats enough! Both of you! Jules, who cares what Mum wears? Its Sophies day, not a fashion show!
Easy for you, Julia muttered. You dont care how I look in public.
Whats that got to do with anything? Youre always beautiful.
And your mums not?
Julia, stop.
Lydia stood.
Ill change. For Sophie.
Mum, dont
Its fine, Edward.
Upstairs, she dug out the grey office dressstaid, forgettable, worn for three years at the bank. Changing, she felt like Cinderella in reverseturning from a princess into a shadow.
When she returned, Julia gave a satisfied nod.
Much better. Age-appropriate.
She looks like shes at a funeral, Edward muttered.
But respectable.
Guests arrived soon afterclassmates, parents, neighbours. The flat buzzed with chatter. Lydia busied herself serving food, barely noticed in her dull dress.
Lydia, wheres your lovely outfit? asked Margaret, a friends mother. Saw you in town earlieryou looked smashing!
Changed, Lydia said shortly.
Shame. It suited you.
Then Julia swept ina vision in a red cocktail dress, heels, gold jewellery.
Julia, youre stunning! Margaret gushed.
Julia preened, shooting Lydia a pointed look.
Sophie tugged Lydia onto the dance floor later, laughing as they twirled. Guests cheereduntil Julia intervened.
Grans tired. Dance with your friends.
But I like dancing with her!
Now, Sophie.
Lydias patience snapped.
Julia, dont you think youre going too far?
This is my home. You follow my rules.
Edward tried mediating, but Julia was immovable.
Youre secondary here. Know your place.
Lydia grabbed her coat.
Youre right. This isnt my celebration.
Edward chased her out.
Mum, dont go!
She made it clear Im not wanted.
Sophie sobbed, clinging to her.
Gran, stay! Its my birthday!
Lydia kissed her forehead.
Come tomorrow, love. Ill make pancakes.
Outside, she blinked back tears. The blue dress would stay unworna reminder of rejection.
The next morning, she returned it.
Didnt suit the occasion, she told the clerk.
With the refund, she bought a theatre ticketfor one.
Sophie visited the next day, hugging her tightly.
You were the prettiest at my party, she whispered. Even in grey.
Lydia smiled, flipping pancakes.
That was enough.
And shed prove nothing more.
