Cooking for Everyone
“I’m not planning a huge celebration for my milestone birthday, so I’m only inviting a small number of guests,” said Nina to her son and daughter-in-law over dinner.
“How many?” asked William, knowing his mother’s penchant for grand parties.
“Twenty-three for sure, with a couple more undecided,” the elderly woman calmly replied.
“Hang on,” Olive pieced it all together. “So, you’ve already invited everyone, knowing who will definitely come, and now we’re just being informed?”
“Well, I’m turning seventy, it’s my house, and I believe I have the right to invite whoever I please,” retorted Nina. “It’s just children, grandchildren, and sisters with their families. I’m not inviting neighbors or distant relatives.”
“But why all the fuss and expense?” William didn’t understand. “Our place isn’t big enough for everyone. We’ll have to buy groceries, clean up, and organize everything.”
“Well, it’s fine to live in my house, but throwing me a party once is already too much for you,” Nina started her speech. “This might be my final milestone birthday; I have the right to make decisions on my own.”
“You know she can’t manage the preparations herself?” William asked later. “My older sister Catherine has been estranged from her for ages, so she might not even show up. My younger sister Linda lives out of town and definitely won’t help, so it’s all on you.”
“Great, so I turn into staff for a week,” Olive grumbled.
“Well, we don’t have much choice. We want to honor mother, and we live in her home,” William reminded.
Olive didn’t want to do anything but felt compelled because they lived together. Otherwise, Nina would not grant them peace and would fray her nerves. Two weeks prior, Olive cleaned the entire house, achieving a shine and deciding to just touch it up closer to the event.
“I don’t like the menu you suggested,” Nina said, looking over her daughter-in-law’s notes. “Not enough meat dishes, and no one needs those trendy sandwiches. Guests can’t go hungry.”
“There are plenty of dishes here, all calorific, requiring much time and money to prepare,” Olive defended.
“Fine, I’ll add something extra, and then we’ll decide,” Nina replied.
After her additions, the menu and costs almost doubled. Nina intended to cover part of the banquet herself, relying on the support of her son and daughter-in-law for the rest.
“First of all, we are one family, and that’s normal,” she declared decisively. “Secondly, I haven’t decided anything about the house yet. Even if I leave it to you, it’ll still benefit you, so a bit of effort wouldn’t be amiss.”
Olive held back her words not to offend her husband. William dutifully followed his mother’s whims. Olive didn’t want to buy everything from one store, finding it not cost-effective.
“But we’ll waste petrol and spend time and effort buying butter from one store, cream from the market, and eggs from the farm,” Olive didn’t understand.
“That’s no problem,” insisted the mother-in-law. “I want assurance in the quality of products, so we need to buy them from where I always do.”
Though short on health and energy for cooking, Nina insisted on overseeing purchases, demanding her son drive her around. William spent his post-work hours carting his mother through stores and enduring her lectures.
“Do you have a trusted baker for the cake?” Nina asked her daughter-in-law.
“I thought we’d just buy a ready-made cake or some pastries,” Olive faltered.
“Of course, we could just grab a loaf for my milestone birthday,” the pensioner theatrically scoffed. “You wouldn’t dream of doing that to your own mother.”
“My mom’s milestone was last year; she didn’t celebrate it,” Olive blurted. “We simply spent the evening with parents and my brother’s family.”
“Well, that’s up to you. Every family has its rules,” Nina held firm. “You joined ours, so kindly respect the rules.”
Olive genuinely tried to please her mother-in-law, spending lunch breaks browsing cake designs and recipes and running to the store after work for endless last-minute items. With guests set for Saturday, she took leave from work starting Thursday to prepare.
“It seems you have no sense,” Nina fumed again. “Sure, William’s a man and clueless, but you could’ve offered to help me.”
“What’s the issue?” Olive tried to understand the discontent.
“I have a party, guests coming, and I should greet them in a robe and a messy bun?”
Olive had to shop with her mother-in-law for an outfit, arranging a friend to do her hair and makeup at home.
“Why are you baking meat rolls today?” Nina burst into the kitchen. “The celebration is two days away, and they won’t be fresh.”
“Tomorrow’s fully booked, and there’s no way to do everything at once,” Olive reminded. “The cooker and oven will be occupied, and I’ve only two hands.”
“Then get up earlier and stop playing the hero,” Nina pushed.
“You’re trying to do everything through me,” Olive finally broke her silence. “If you don’t like it, I won’t do anything.”
“What?” Nina shouted, red-faced from anger.
“Take your guests to a café or order in,” Olive snapped. “I’m tired of the dissatisfaction and accusations.”
William came home to a tearful wife and furious mother accusing Olive of trying to sabotage the celebration and ruin the day.
“Please, let’s just get through this,” William pleaded. “We’re close. Just a couple more days, and it’ll be over, and we’ll be happy.”
Olive swallowed her pride for her husband’s peace, rested, then headed to the kitchen, spending all of Friday on her feet. By Saturday, everything was ready, and the home sparkled with cleanliness. The guest of honor, dressed to the nines, welcomed the guests and invited them to the table.
“Everything’s made with love and a cheerful heart,” Nina sweetly smiled at her relatives.
“Delicious and beautifully done, as always,” showered the guests with compliments.
“I worked hard, although some tried to cause issues,” remarked the birthday lady, with a glance toward her daughter-in-law and her own daughters.
Olive barely sat during the banquet, constantly running with plates. William’s nerves cracked, insisting his sisters help out in the kitchen.
“Are you a heroine or just a fool?” Catherine, William’s sister, asked Olive in the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” Olive didn’t understand.
“It’s clear mother has you running around, and this entire banquet is at your cost and effort,” Catherine replied.
“Don’t rub salt in her wounds,” Linda, the other sister, asked. “You know Mum, and why we keep our distance.”
“It’s a milestone, respect, we live together and all,” Olive stammered.
“She’s our mum. We’re only here out of fear it might truly be the last one,” said Linda. “But honestly, she’s difficult, and living with her is impossible. If you think she’ll leave you the house, that’s unlikely. It’s just a method to control; we’ve seen it all.”
Guests stayed late, praising, emptying plates, and taking packed pastries as they left. After the last had gone, Nina, with a regal air, retired without thanking her son and daughter-in-law. Olive washed up until morning before finding rest, but her attempt to sleep was interrupted when Nina burst in at ten with a shopping proposal to spend her gift money.
“I can’t take it or do this anymore, understand?” Olive asked her husband once the door closed. “I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t care about her reaction.”
William also chose not to go. Nina sulked, staging more scenes, telling everyone how her ingrates son and daughter-in-law mistreat her. Two months later, Olive convinced her husband to move to a rented flat away from his mother. Nina didn’t understand and continued maligning Olive, claiming she “ruined her son’s life” and lacked respect for a “perfect mother” whose ungrateful children grew up wrong.
