Emily arrived home later than usual. The flat was eerily quiet—no hum of her husband’s voice, no familiar muttering from her mum.
“Mum? Alex?” she called, peeking into each room. Nothing.
“Probably fiddling with something in the garage shed,” she thought. “But Mum… Surely she hasn’t stormed off in a huff?”
Grabbing her jacket, she stepped into the garden. A warm yellow glow spilled from the slightly open garage door, along with the sound of chatter. Inside, she froze.
Alex and her mum, Margaret, were deep into restoring an antique mirror. Her husband was carefully painting the frame, while her mother—wrapped in a floral headscarf and an ancient apron—was enthusiastically demonstrating something.
“Just look at the grain on that wood now!” Margaret beamed. “You’ve got a real knack for this, Alex!”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” he chuckled. “Just a bit of tinkering.”
“Tinkering, he says!” She huffed. “This is proper craftsmanship!”
Emily sank onto a stool, blinking in disbelief. That morning, they’d been at each other’s throats…
It all began when Margaret had moved in “temporarily” after the care home she’d been at closed for renovations.
“Mum’s only staying a fortnight,” Emily had assured Alex. “Just till they sort things out.”
“A fortnight,” Alex had grumbled. “Living under the same roof as her.”
He’d paced the kitchen, fists clenched, before exhaling sharply. “Couldn’t we just book her a nice B&B? I’ve got that bonus coming—”
“Are you mad?” Emily had hissed. “And spend the rest of my life hearing how I abandoned my own mother?”
Then the doorbell rang—Margaret, of course, arriving an hour early to “assess the situation.”
From the doorstep, the inspection began: “Emily, love, these walls are crying out for a fresh coat… And this coat rack? Alex, tighten those screws, would you?”
Alex had retreated to the loo without a word.
Within a week, her mum had rearranged the furniture, scrubbed the kitchen to a shine, reorganised every cupboard, and—inevitably—meddled with Alex’s paperwork.
“Margaret!” he’d barked when a crucial folder went missing. “Where are my documents?”
“Chucked the crumpled lot,” she’d shrugged cheerfully. “Sorted them proper, alphabetically!”
Alex had slammed the door on his way out.
At work, Emily had struggled to focus. Her mother, stubborn as an oak; her husband, immovable as stone. And her, stuck in the middle.
After her shift, she’d rushed home to an empty flat—panic rising—until she heard voices from the garage.
And now here they were: the two people she’d played referee to that very morning, bonding over varnish and wood stains, laughing like old mates.
“Mum?” she ventured.
“Oh, there you are!” Margaret glowed. “Alex has got magic hands, he has! And here I was, nagging like a daft old bat…”
She pulled a plate of crumpets from the workbench.
“Made these as a peace offering. Turns out, wasn’t even needed!”
“You’ve no idea!” Alex cut in, bouncing like an eager schoolboy. “Your mum’s a wizard with antique finishes! I was racking my brains over the frame, and she goes, ‘Try linseed oil,’ and—bam! Perfection!”
Emily gaped. “Mum… You never said you knew about furniture!”
“Oh, just a hobby,” Margaret waved it off.
“Hobby? No way!” Alex held up a delicately painted jewelry box. “Look at the detailing! I’d have taken weeks to figure this out.”
He brightened. “D’you reckon there’s more like this back in your village?”
“Barn’s full of ‘em! Dressers, vanities, shelves… Come down and have a gander!”
“Brilliant!” He turned to Emily. “Love, we’re going this summer! Imagine the projects!”
Margaret clasped her hands. “Really? You’ll come?”
“Absolutely!”
They gathered round the makeshift table—a sheet of oilcloth over the workbench, topped with crumpets, a teapot, and a jar of jam.
“After this, I’ll show you another trick,” Margaret winked. “Got an idea for the mirror’s trim.”
Emily watched them—her sharp-tongued mother, her once-sullen husband—now chatting like siblings. Her chest tightened. Funny, that. Sometimes happiness turns up where you least expect it: in a dusty garage, smelling of paint and sawdust, where a mother-in-law and son-in-law finally found common ground.
