**Sorting Out Her Love Life**
“Mum, don’t get so worked up—Daniel said he loves me. We’re getting married,” Lily said calmly, more composed than ever.
“How can I *not* be worked up? You’re pregnant, unmarried, haven’t even finished college, and I’ve never met this bloke of yours! Do you think a child is some sort of toy? That Daniel of yours better show up here today, look me in the eye, and swear he’ll take responsibility, you hear?”
“Don’t shout at me—I thought you’d be happy about having a grandchild. I’ll bring Daniel round soon, he’s just finishing work. I’ve got a key to his dorm room. I’ll wait there—you’re in a right state.” With that, Lily flounced out, swinging her handbag carelessly behind her.
Margaret clutched her chest, dropped heavily onto a kitchen stool, and glanced at the photograph of her late husband.
“That’s what comes of growing up without a father!” she muttered to the picture. “Oh, John, why’d you have to leave us so soon? I let our Lily slip through my fingers—reckless girl. What if this lad turns his back on her? How will we manage? My wages barely cover us, and who’ll hire a pregnant girl now? She’s still got six months left at uni. Bloody hell!”
Margaret buried her face in her apron and wept. Life had weighed heavy on her shoulders since she was young. Her husband had died at the sawmill when Lily was just two, leaving them in their little suburban home. Only her closest friend and the neighbours knew how hard she’d struggled, scraping every penny to put food on the table, always giving the choicest bits to her little girl. And now, just when life had seemed to settle, her own daughter dropped this bombshell.
“Right, better get the pastry rolling—seeing as my soon-to-be son-in-law’s coming. Honestly, Lily…”
Once the table was set, Margaret changed into a smarter dress and picked up her knitting to steady her nerves.
Then the front door creaked open, and Lily walked in. Margaret peered behind her, but no one followed.
“Where’s the groom? Left him on the doorstep, did you?”
“Gone,” Lily sniffed. “He’s dumped me.”
“How?!” Margaret sank onto a chair in shock.
“Just like that! Quit his job, packed his bags, and cleared off. That’s what the dorm supervisor said…”
Lily looked lost, tears welling in her eyes. Being a single mother had never been part of her plan.
“What do I do now, Mum?”
Margaret nearly said “I told you so,” but stopped herself. A mother’s heart isn’t made of stone.
“You have the baby—what else? It’s not going anywhere. When’s it due?”
“July. Right around when I graduate.” Lily sighed and rested a hand on her stomach.
…Lily gave birth right on time—a little girl she named Emily. And so the three of them lived, like oak trees in a quiet village.
Emily grew up sturdy and bright-eyed, soaking up the world with curiosity. Margaret doted on her, though Lily treated her daughter with something close to indifference. Emily, annoyingly, took after her cheating father—same ginger curls and big green eyes.
“Mummy’s home!” Six-year-old Emily would race to the door the moment she spotted Lily through the window, arms outstretched for a hug.
“What’d you bring me?” She’d cling to her mother’s arm, eyes shining with hope.
“Nothing,” Lily would snap, exhausted.
“Why not? You promised me ice cream yesterday!”
“Leave it, I’m knackered!” Lily would shove Emily off her lap and vanish into the bedroom.
Emily would stand in the middle of the room, crying. She’d waited so long for a bit of affection, only to be pushed away. Then at nursery, they’d made her draw her family—just her, Mum, and Granny. The other kids laughed and called her “fatherless” because she didn’t have a dad.
Margaret would rush to comfort her, but a storm of sobs would swallow the little girl whole.
“Where’s my daddy? Why’s Mummy always cross?” Emily would wail, inconsolable.
Margaret would just hold her tight.
“Not everyone has a dad, love. We’ll manage—more cake for us, eh? Come on, let’s go get that ice cream.”
At the magic word, Emily’s tears would slow.
“And Mummy too?”
“And Mummy.”
Margaret’s household always made a fuss for Mother’s Day—no surprise, with three generations of women under one roof. The table groaned with food, Lily brought her friends round, and everyone exchanged little gifts. But this year, Lily didn’t bring her mates. She brought a man—without warning.
On the doorstep stood a well-dressed older bloke in an expensive suit.
“Mum, meet Robert. My boss. He’s being transferred for a promotion, and we’re getting married.”
“What?!” Margaret stood frozen.
“Is he my dad?” Emily piped up from the doorway, too excited for manners.
“No, poppet,” Robert smirked. “But look—I brought you a doll.”
Emily turned away, leaving the toy untouched. There was something about him she didn’t like.
The evening dragged. Robert made no effort to charm them, while Lily fawned over him and scolded Emily nonstop.
“Sit properly! What’ll Uncle Robert think? Stop wriggling!”
Margaret stayed quiet, uneasy. Robert, meanwhile, basked in his own superiority, treating them like charity cases. Emily picked at her food, watching her mother nervously.
“Our division’s hit record numbers,” Robert boasted. “So you’re looking at a future regional director. Bit of a move—three hundred miles north. A proper detached house with a garden. Lily’s coming with me.”
“Me too? Is the nursery nice there?” Emily asked.
Robert just shot Lily a look. She caught on quick.
“Mum, how’s work? Maybe retire—you deserve a rest.”
“Retire? I’ve years left—how’d we live?”
“Robert and I will cover you. You’ll want for nothing.”
“Why?” Margaret frowned.
“Sweetheart, off you pop—play with your new doll,” Robert ordered, shooing Emily away.
Emily glanced at Margaret, who gave a tight nod. She left the doll on the floor and trudged off.
“Mum, here’s the thing,” Lily began. “We’re not taking Emily right away. Once we’re settled—”
“Settled? You’ll have a huge house! What’s wrong with your own child?”
“It’s not ideal with a young child,” Robert cut in smoothly. “We’d pay you for the inconvenience.”
“She has a *name*,” Margaret said coldly. “So that’s what the money’s for—to ditch her?”
“Mum, it’s just temporary!” Lily simpered. “Can’t start a new marriage with baggage.”
“Where it starts temporary, it ends permanent. Go where you like—Emily stays with me.”
Robert rose, nose in the air, and strode to his car. Lily lingered, trying to smooth things over.
“Mum, don’t you want me happy? Finally met a decent man, and you’re not pleased. Emily’ll be fine—I’ll fetch her in six months.”
“Do what you want,” Margaret sighed. “But I won’t let you hurt her. I’ll say you’re away on business with Robert. Poor mite already misses having a dad—now her mum’s off chasing some bloke.”
“I’m *not* abandoning her!”
“Aren’t you?”
Lily clamped her mouth shut, avoiding her mother’s eyes, and left without goodbye.
A week later, she was packing. Emily buzzed around, fretting.
“Mum, pack thick jumpers—your throat’ll get sore. And mittens! What if it snows?”
Lily laughed.
“It’s the South, silly. No need for all that.”
Margaret watched, heart sinking, as Emily clung to her mother, doling out advice.
“Mum, take Teddy. He’s my favourite—you can have him.”
Just to hush her, Lily tossed the bear into the suitcase. Emily tucked him in with a jumper, whispering:
“Don’t be sad, Teddy. Mummy’s just upset ’cause she doesn’t want to leave me. Look after her, okay?”
Margaret fled to the kitchen, pressing a tea towel to her face to muffle her sobs. Rage at her daughter, pity for Emily—it choked her.
“Taxi’s here! No need to see me off,” Lily chirped.
“Mum!” Emily lunged, wrapping her arms around Lily’s legs. “Don’t go!”
“Get *off*! I’ll miss my flight! Mum, take her!”
Margaret scooped up the wailing girl and held her close.
TwoYears later, Emily—now a successful woman with a loving family of her own—sat by her grandmother’s side, their hands clasped tightly, knowing no distance or time could break the bond they had built together.
