“Dad, I’d like you to meet someone. She’s going to be my wifeyour daughter-in-law,” beamed Marcus, his face alight with joy.
“Excuse me?” Professor Roland Ashworth, PhD, stared in disbelief. “If this is a joke, it isnt the least bit funny.”
His gaze flickered with disdain over his future daughter-in-laws rough hands, the dirt stubbornly lodged under her nails. She looked as though soap and water were foreign concepts.
*Good Lord, thank heavens my dear Eleanor isnt alive to see this disgrace! We raised this boy with proper manners!* he thought bitterly.
“This isnt a joke!” Marcus said firmly. “Emily will stay with us, and well marry in three months. If you refuse to come to the wedding, Ill do it without you.”
“Hello!” Emily flashed a friendly smile and bustled toward the kitchen. “Ive brought pasties, blackberry jam, dried mushrooms” She listed the contents of her worn-out sack as she unpacked them.
Roland clutched his chest when a smear of jam ruined the pristine white tablecloth.
“Marcus! Snap out of it! If this is some twisted revenge, its too cruel Where on earth did you find this simpleton? Shes not staying under my roof!” the professor shouted.
“I love Emily. And my wife has every right to live in my home!” Marcus smirked, clearly mocking him.
Roland realized his son was toying with him. Without another word, he turned and retreated to his study.
Lately, their relationship had soured. After his mothers death, Marcus became recklessdropping out of university, speaking disrespectfully, living carefree. Roland had hoped hed return to his old, sensible self. But with each passing day, the rift widened. And now? This country girl in his home. He knew his father would never approve, so Marcus had brought home the one person he couldnt stand.
Soon after, Marcus and Emily married. Roland refused to attend, unwilling to accept this unwanted bride. He seethed, furious that Eleanors placeonce the heart of their refined homehad been taken by this uneducated girl who could barely string two words together.
Emily ignored his disdain, trying to win him over but only making things worse. Roland saw nothing good in herjust ignorance and poor manners.
Marcus, playing the dutiful husband briefly, fell back into drinking and rowdiness. Roland often overheard their arguments, secretly hoping Emily would leave.
“Roland, your son wants a divorcehes throwing me out, and Im expecting a child!” Emily burst in one day, tears in her eyes.
“First of all, why the streets? Surely you have somewhere to go And pregnancy doesnt grant you the right to stay here after a separation. I wont interfereforgive me,” Roland said, privately relieved to finally be rid of her.
Emily, heartbroken and baffled by his hatred from the start, packed her things. She couldnt understand Marcus crueltytreated like a stray dog, abandoned. Just because she was country-born didnt mean she lacked a heart.
***
Eight years passed Roland now lived in a care home, his health failing. Marcus wasted no timehe swiftly committed his father to avoid any burden.
Resigned to his fate, Roland accepted there was no turning back. Hed spent his life teaching thousands about love, respect, and care, receiving grateful letters from former students Yet his own child remained beyond his reach.
“Roland, youve got visitors again,” his roommate announced after a stroll.
“Who? Marcus?” he croaked, though he knew better. His son would never comehe despised him.
“Dunno. They asked for you. Why sit here? Go see!” his roommate chuckled.
Roland grabbed his cane and shuffled toward the dim hallway. Halfway down the stairs, he recognized her.
“Hello, Emily,” he murmured, head bowed. The guilt still gnawed at himhow hed failed that honest, simple girl all those years ago.
“Roland!” The elegant woman gasped. “Youve changed so much Are you ill?”
“A little” He managed a sad smile. “How did you find me?”
“Marcus mentioned it. He refuses to speak to his son, but the boy begs to see his grandfather. John isnt to blame for your rejection. He needs family” Her voice trembled. “Forgive meI shouldnt have bothered you.”
“Wait!” Roland pleaded. “How is he? The last photo you sent, he was only three.”
“Hes here, by the entrance. Shall I call him?” Emily asked softly.
“Please do!”
A boy with chestnut hair entereda miniature Marcus. John hesitated before approaching the grandfather hed never met.
“Hello, lad! Look how tall youve grown” Rolands voice cracked as he embraced his grandson.
They talked for hours, strolling through the autumn leaves in the care homes garden. Emily spoke of her strugglesher mothers early death, raising a son alone, managing their small farm.
“Im sorry, Emily. I failed you. I thought myself wise, educated but only recently learned that a persons worth lies in their heart, not their upbringing,” Roland admitted.
“Roland, we have a proposal,” Emily said nervously. “Come live with us! Youre alone, and so are we Wed love to have family near.”
“Grandad, please! Well go fishing, mushroom hunting The countrysides beautiful, and theres plenty of room!” John tugged his hand eagerly.
“Lets go!” Roland smiled. “I failed raising my sonperhaps I can give what I withheld from him. Besides, Ive never lived in the country. Might just like it!”
“You will!” John laughed.
