**The Family Recipe**
You truly mean to marry someone you met on the internet? Edith Harper regarded her future daughter-in-law with scepticism, as though the girl might slip counterfeit notes into the household. Her gaze, heavy and appraising, swept over Alices simple hairstyle and modest dress. You barely know each other!
Alice felt a shiver run down her spine. They sat in the cramped but spotless kitchen of the council flat where Edward had grown up. The air smelled of vanilla and old floorboards.
Mum, enough, Edward cut in, sliding an arm around Alices shoulders. We didnt meet onlinewe met at the book club. We just talked there first. Six months, Mum. And Alice is wonderful.
Their story had begun when Alice, who ran a small blog about forgotten classics, posted her thoughts on *Wuthering Heights*. Edward, a software engineer with a quiet passion for literature, had stumbled upon it. Their debate spilled into private messages, then lengthy phone calls. They discovered they laughed at the same jokes, cherished the same thingssilence, honesty, the scent of old paper. Their first meeting, by the statue of Shakespeare, wasnt a date but a continuation of their conversations. With her, Edward felt at ease, as if hed always known her. She saw in him a shy man with depths few noticed.
*Wonderful*, Edith sniffed, clattering her spoon pointedly against her teacup. And yet shes from another town, no job herewho *knows* what shes after? I raised my son, taught him better than this
Alice clenched her jaw but held her tongue.
She had already realised: Edith didnt see *her*, only an intrudera stranger come to steal her son away. Since her husbands passing five years prior, Ediths world had shrunk to Edward alone, her care rigid as iron, her rules unwavering.
Every attempt Alice made to bridge the gap failed.
When she baked an apple pie with cinnamon and star anisejust as her grandmother hadEdith took a tiny bite and muttered, Too sweet. We dont make it like this.
When Alice offered to help clean, Edith replied curtly, No need. I know where everything belongs. Id spend months finding things otherwise.
Alone with Edward in his room, surrounded by model ships and physics textbooks, he could only sigh. Dont take it to heart. Shes always been like this. Loving, but prickly as a hedgehog.
Im trying, Alice murmured, staring at the rows of identical balconies outside. Living like were in a cold war is exhausting. And we cant move out yet.
But Alice refused to surrender. She believed every fortress had a hidden door.
One Saturday morning, Edith dusted the shelves and pulled out an old photo album. Alice asked to join her. On one yellowed page, a younger, smiling Edith stood beside a dark-haired man.
Whos this? Alice ventured.
Edith stiffened, as if caught in something forbidden. My brother, Arthur, she sighed, the usual sharpness gone from her voice. We quarrelled. Twenty years ago, if not more.
What happened? Alice pressed gently.
Foolishness. A patch of land from our parents. Both too stubborn to yield. He said cruel things, I answered in kind. And that was that. We live in the same city but might as well be worlds apart.
Alice said nothing, but a plan took shape. Edward had mentioned his mother growing colder after that fight.
A week later, Alice *happened* to chat with the talkative neighbour, Mrs. Thompson.
Oh, Edith and Arthur! the woman exclaimed. Thick as thieves, they were! Arthur lives over in the new estate now. Had heart surgery last yearpoor man, all alone, his children up in Edinburgh.
That evening, as Edward read and Edith knitted, Alice said softly, Edith did you know your brother had heart surgery last year?
The needles stilled. Edith paled. *What?* How do you know that?
Mrs. Thompson mentioned it. Said hes been alone, no one to help him
Edith left without another word. Alice heard her pacing all night.
The next morning, Edith, usually slow to rise, was dressed in her best coat by dawn.
Visiting a friend, she muttered.
She returned by dusk, her eyes red but softer than Alice had ever seen. In the kitchen doorway, she paused.
Thank you, she said hoarsely, then hurried away.
Later, Alice learned Edith had taken the bus to Arthurs flat, stood outside half an hour, then knocked. When he answered, they simply staredtwo greying, stubborn soulsbefore crumbling into each others arms. They wept, laughed, and marvelled at how petty their feud seemed now.
You were right, Edith admitted days later over tea, watching the steam rise. Sometimes you must take the first step. Twenty years lost over a scrap of land what nonsense.
From then on, Edith softened. No longer treating Alice as an outsider, but as family. Once, while sorting the pantry, she asked quietly, Alicethat pie of yours, with the star anise. Could you teach me? Edward mentioned liking it.
Hands trembling, Alice fetched the flour. Together they worked in that tiny kitchen, Edith silently assisting without a single correction. The apples were sliced, the dough rolled, the pie set to bake.
You know, Edith said, wiping her hands on her apron, Arthur hes glad we made amends. Asked who put the idea in my head.
Alice only smiled.
When Edward returned from work, he found them side by side. Well then, he grinned. Did you two manage something together?
Alice leaned into him and nodded. She knew: sometimes, to mend a rift, one need only remind people of the love that existed long before you arrived. You just had to find the right thread to pull.
