Emily and her mother-in-law, Margaret, sat huddled on an old bed, bundled up against the winter chill. The fireplace had only just been lit, and the house was still cold.
“Dont worry, Mum,” Emily reassured her. “Well be alright. We wont starve. Let me get your medicine.”
Emily did her best to comfort the older woman, though Margaret wasnt her real mothershe was her mother-in-law, and nearly an ex at that.
It had once been the three of themMargaret, her son David, and his wife Emily.
Emily had married late, at thirty. She was Davids second wife, though she hadnt broken up his first marriagetheyd met after his divorce.
Margaret had taken to her immediately, and Emily had come to love her too. Warm and kind, she was the mother Emily had lost too young.
“Thick as thieves,” David used to say about them.
Five years passed in a blink. Then David grew cruel, shouting at both women. The reason was another woman. He came home late, reeking of drink.
One day, he demanded a divorce and gave Emily only two days to leave. Before she could even pack, his mistress, Bianca, arrived with a suitcase.
Perhaps shed come to gloat. But she was just a leggy blonde with pouty lips and lashes so thick she could barely blink.
Emily couldnt help but laugh.
“You left me for this cow-eyed doll? Good luck with herI wont miss you.”
“At least shes fun,” David sneered. “You and Mum are just a pair of old hens.”
“Fine, insult mebut why her?”
“Darling,” Bianca simpered, blinking slowly, “why should his mother stay? Let her take her. We dont need her here.”
David shrugged. “Mum, its time you left too.”
“Where will I go?” Margaret clutched her chest. “I gave you every penny from selling my flat to build this house!”
“No theatrics. You can staybut keep to your room. Bianca runs things now.”
“Sweetheart, make them both leave.”
“Shes my mother!”
“Your mother?” Bianca gasped. “You expect me to live with her?”
Emily had heard enough.
“Margaret, come with me to the countryside.”
“Better there than with him and that creature.”
“Rest. Ill pack your things.”
“Dont forget my medicine, my trinket box, my handbag.”
Emily grabbed a suitcase, tossing in clothes, documents, everything theyd need.
“Take it all,” Bianca snapped. “We dont want your junk.”
David watched silently, knowing his mother would never forgive him.
Within half an hour, Emily stood by the car. Margaret sat inside, wiping silent tears. She didnt look back.
Its hard to accept when the child you gave everything to casts you aside.
“How will we manage, dear?”
“Well be fine. Ive savings. Your pension will cover us till I find work. We wont starve.”
They drove to the village where Emily had grown up. The cottage was freezing, but she lit the fire, boiled water for tea.
“Youre so capable,” Margaret murmured.
“My grandfather taught me. Good thing we shopped firstI hate village gossip.”
As the house warmed, a knock came.
“Back for winter, Emily?” A neighbour, George, peered in. “Everything alright?”
“Fine, Uncle George. This is Margaret. Margaret, meet George.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
A week passed. The cottage was clean and cosy.
“Im a village girl too,” Margaret confessed. “I married a city man. He died when David was twenty-three. I sold my flathe promised Id always have a home with him.”
“Dont cry,” Emily said gently. “Perhaps youll have grandchildren yet.”
“Not from *her*.”
“George lost his wife years agoshe drowned saving a child. Never remarried.”
A month later, no word came from David. Then an unknown number called.
“Emily? Your husbands dead.”
“Youre mistaken.”
“He crashed his cardrunk. The girl with him survived. Come identify him.”
*Poor Margaret.* Emily turned to George. “Help me tell her.”
Margaret wailed. “I abandoned him!”
“He threw you out!”
“Im his mother. This is my punishment!”
At the funeral, they decided to visit Davids housenow theirs. George insisted on coming.
The place was a wreck. Clothes and dishes everywhere, the stench of alcohol and rot.
Bianca stormed out, followed by a half-dressed man.
“This is *my* house!” she shrieked.
“Show me the deeds,” George demanded.
“We were practically married!”
“Prove it.”
After legal checks, locks were changed. Much was thrown out.
George stayed close. “Ill miss you both.”
“Visit us,” Emily said. “And Margaretyouve noticed how he looks at you?”
A year later, George and Margaret married. Emily, now fostering two siblings, remained part of their family.
Blood doesnt always define familysometimes, life brings the right people together in unexpected ways.
