My mother always complains that my wife spoils every celebration, I told my son, trying to keep my voice steady.
Emily says we could meet tomorrow at a restaurant or a café, I said brightly over the video call, hoping the news would lift my mothers mood.
Sounds fine, but let Emily pick the place herself beforehand, so we dont keep changing the venue while ordering, my mother, Natalie Thompson, replied calmly.
Weve already found a spot, dont worry. Theres a new eatery opening in our neighbourhood; well try it tomorrow, I continued, trying to sound reassuring.
New place alright, send me the address and tell me what time we should arrive, Fatherinlaw, my mother said resignedly.
Consider it done, I replied, ending the call.
A short while later Natalie received a message with the address and the time. She has two daughtersinlaw and a soninlaw, and her relationships are generally smooth, except with Emily.
She never meddles in Emilys affairs; on the contrary, she keeps her distance and talks less. The trouble is Emily simply doesnt know how to behave at a table and lacks any sense of propriety.
A few months earlier the whole family had dined out, and instead of pleasant conversation we endured Emilys whims.
One minute she complained the dish was unsatisfactory, the next she grumbled that the waiter didnt smile, then she found the menu too meagre.
Because of the last complaint we had to change restaurants several times that evening.
Even then she managed to find something to nitpick. She ordered a salad and asked that no onion be added.
Your salad, just as you requested, without onion, the waiter announced, placing the plate before Emily.
Whats that on the salad? she asked, pointing a manicured nail at a sprig of dill.
Its a garnish, the young man replied, puzzled.
Did I ask for dill in my salad? Emily pursed her lips, continuing her protest.
If youd like, I can remove it. Theres no dill inside the salad itself, the waiter suggested, thinking hed solved the problem.
Take the whole salad away; youve ruined my appetite. Bring me a milkshake instead, Emily ordered haughtily, turning dramatically toward the window.
All her demands were met, and none of the staff seemed perturbed. Of course the evenings atmosphere was ruined.
Emily sat there, lips puffed and a hurt expression on her face while the rest of the family ate and chatted, making any outing with her feel like a punishment.
Even family gatherings werent free of mishaps. Her petulance and capriciousness poisoned every meal.
She even caused a scene at Aunt Margarets funeral.
Who cooked these pancakes? Theyre as rubbery as soles! she shouted loudly during the remembrance.
Darling, theres no need to make a scene; just dont eat them, Natalie tried to calm her, noticing the sideways glances from relatives.
Whats left now? I could make something better for my dog, and the booze and juice are cheap anyway. Ugh, Emily grimaced.
Were not here to eat; were here to remember the departed, so please show some respect and stop complaining, the motherinlaw said softly.
Thats the point! They called us to remember, yet theres nothing to remember! Emily muttered sadly.
It seemed the unpleasant episode had passed, but it was only an illusion.
Later that day several relatives called Natalie, indignant about how Emily had complained about the food wherever she went.
Emily felt ashamed and swore never to accompany her daughterinlaw to such events again.
Her birthday was approaching, and Emily and I were supposed to attend the family dinner.
Knowing this, Natalie announced she was feeling under the weather and postponed the celebration indefinitely.
She knew I would be away on a business trip at the end of the month and had been waiting for that moment.
She had already devised a clever plan to celebrate her birthday without Emily.
As soon as I rang my mother from the hotel in Manchester, she began sending invitations to the rest of the children.
Naturally, Emily was left out of the notice.
Natalies birthday passed in a cheerful setting, with no disgruntled guests.
No one had to listen to complaints about food or drink, and for the first time in two years I could relax with the kids.
But the happiness was shortlived. The next day a guest posted photos of the party on social media, and Emily saw them.
Hello, Natalie, did you have a birthday party? Emily asked, sounding hurt.
Yes, we went ahead. It was delayed for weeks, Natalie replied without trying to hide it.
Why wasnt I invited?
James was away for work, and youd have been bored on your own
Im never bored with you lot, youve got it wrong. Why didnt you wait for James to return? Emily pressed.
Because because his wife ruins every celebration with her sour face! Natalie snapped, instantly regretting her words.
What? Me? I thought you were a good woman, and youre a snake, Emily sobbed before hanging up.
A few hours later I called my mother, ready to scold her.
Why are you treating my wife like this? What have we ever done to you? I demanded, furious.
You havent done anything, but Emily constantly spoils celebrations, and you cant put her in her place, Natalie shot back.
How does she spoil them? I asked, bewildered.
Her endless complaints and nitpicking. You cant even go to a restaurant or sit at a family table without her whining. Shes never satisfied, she finally vented.
Shes just straightforward and honest, unlike you, and shes always treated you like a mother, I retorted.
Being blunt isnt the same as being rude. If she wants to be like a daughter to me, she should behave accordingly, not act like a petulant child! Natalie snapped.
Fine, Ill keep an eye on her and teach her how to behave. In return, promise youll always invite Emily to the celebrations, I said, softening my tone.
Alright, but only if you take responsibility. Well see at the next gathering, she agreed, though her heart seemed heavy.
Of course Emily didnt change; she tried to be restrained but kept causing scenes.
Natalie had no choice but to wave her hands and try to ignore the daughterinlaws outbursts.
She didnt want any more fights with me, so she chose the lesser of two evils.
