**Setting the Heart Right**
“Mum, why are you making such a fuss? Daniel said he loves me. We’re getting married, Mum,” Emily said, her voice steady as a rock.
“How can I not fuss? You’re pregnant, not married, still in college, and I’ve never even met this boy! Do you think a child is some kind of game? That Daniel had better show his face here today and look me in the eye while he promises to take responsibility, understand?”
“Stop shouting! I thought you’d be happy about your grandchild. I’ll fetch Daniel—he’ll be back from work soon. I’ve got a key to his dorm room. I’ll wait there—you’re too wound up,” Emily huffed, swinging her handbag carelessly as she flounced out the door.
Elizabeth clutched her chest, sank onto a stool, and stared at the portrait of her late husband.
“There it is—fatherless!” she muttered to the photo. “Oh, Edward, why did you leave us so soon? I failed our Emily—she grew up too fast. What if this lad turns his back on her? How will we manage? My wages barely stretch, and who’ll hire a pregnant girl? She’s still got six months of school left. Oh, what a mess!”
She buried her face in her apron and wept. The burden of life had crushed her shoulders young. Edward had died at the sawmill when Emily was only two. They’d lived in the outskirts of Nottingham. Only her closest friend and the neighbours knew how hard Elizabeth had worked, giving the best scraps to her little girl while keeping the household afloat. And just as life seemed to settle, her own daughter dropped this bombshell.
“Right, better get the pastry started—suppose my son-in-law’s coming. Oh, Emily…”
Once the table was set, Elizabeth changed into her best dress and picked up her knitting, needles clicking nervously as she waited.
Then, the front door creaked open. Emily stepped in. Elizabeth peered behind her—no one.
“Where’s your young man? Left him on the doorstep?”
“Gone,” Emily choked out. “He’s ditched me.”
“How?” Elizabeth staggered back into her chair.
“Just like that! Quit his job, packed his things, and vanished. That’s what the warden at the dorm said…”
Emily stood shell-shocked, tears brimming. Being a single mother wasn’t in her plans.
“What do I do now, Mum?”
Elizabeth bit back the urge to say, *I told you so.* A mother’s heart isn’t stone.
“You have the baby—what else? It won’t disappear. When’s it due?”
“July, just in time to graduate,” Emily sighed, resting a hand on her belly.
…Emily gave birth right on time—a girl she named Lily. And so, the three of them carried on, like three willows on Windmill Lane.
Lily grew up sturdy and bright-eyed, her clever gaze soaking in the world. Elizabeth doted on her, but her mother? Emily treated the girl with cold indifference. Lily, as if cursed, took after the lying Daniel—red curls, freckles, and those same piercing green eyes.
“Mummy’s home!” Six-year-old Lily would sprint to the door the moment she spotted Emily through the window, arms flung wide for a hug.
“What did you bring me?” She’d cling to her mother’s sleeve, eyes hopeful.
“Nothing,” Emily would snap, exhaustion darkening her tone.
“Why? You promised ice cream yesterday!”
“Leave me alone—I’m tired!” Emily would shake her off and retreat to her room.
Lily would stand frozen, tears falling. She’d waited all day for a scrap of warmth, only to be shoved aside. Then at nursery, they’d made her draw her family—just her, Mum, and Gran. The other children laughed. *”No-dad Lily!”* they taunted.
Elizabeth would rush to soothe her, but the hurt would crash over Lily in furious sobs.
“Where’s my dad? Why is Mummy so mean?” she’d wail.
Elizabeth would just hold her tighter.
“Not everyone has a dad, love. We’ll manage—more pies for us. Come on, let’s fetch ice cream.”
The magic word would calm Lily.
“And for Mummy too?”
“And for Mummy.”
In Elizabeth’s house, Mother’s Day was always grand. After all, it was a house of women. The table groaned with treats, Emily brought friends, and gifts were exchanged. But this time, Emily didn’t bring friends—she brought a man. Without warning.
On their doorstep stood a polished older gentleman in an expensive suit.
“Mum, meet William. My boss. He’s being promoted—transferred to another city. We’re getting married.”
“*What?*” Elizabeth stood rooted.
“Ooh! Is this my dad?” Lily piped up, eavesdropping from her room.
“No, poppet. I’m not your dad,” William smirked. “Here’s a doll for you.”
Lily turned away, refusing it. Something about him felt wrong.
The evening dragged. William made no effort to charm them, while Emily fawned over him, snapping at Lily.
“Sit properly! What will Uncle Will think? Stop squirming!”
Elizabeth stayed quiet, uneasy. William revelled in his superiority, oozing condescension. Lily barely ate, watching her mother fearfully.
“Our division exceeded targets. So, congratulations are in order—your future son-in-law’s the next regional director. Pity the office is miles away. Emily’s coming. We’ve a lovely house waiting—two floors, garden.”
“Can I come? Is the nursery nice?” Lily asked.
William’s silence spoke volumes. Emily swiftly changed the subject.
“Mum, how’s work? Maybe retire—you deserve rest.”
“Retire? Pension’s years off—how would we live?”
“William and I will provide. You’ll want for nothing.”
“Why?” Elizabeth’s guard shot up.
“Lily, off you pop—play with your new doll,” William ordered.
Lily glanced at Gran, who nodded. She left the doll by the door.
“Mum, here’s the thing,” Emily began. “We can’t take Lily just yet. Once we’re settled—”
“What’s to settle? You said the house is huge! Why’s she in the way?”
“It’s inconvenient with a child,” William stated coldly. “We’ll pay you to mind her.”
“She has a *name*,” Elizabeth snapped. “So that’s your game? Pay me to abandon your own child?”
“Mum, it’s temporary!” Emily simpered. “I can’t burden my new husband—”
“Where ‘temporary’ starts, permanent follows. Go where you like. Lily stays with me.”
William strode out, dignity intact. Emily lingered, pleading.
“Mum, don’t you want me happy? A decent man finally, and you’re against it! Lily won’t vanish—I’ll fetch her in six months.”
“Do as you please.” Elizabeth waved her off. “But I won’t let you break that child’s heart. I’ll say you’re on business. She’s grieving no dad—now her mum dumps her for a man?”
“I’m *not* dumping her!”
“Aren’t you?”
Emily left without goodbye.
A week later, she packed. Lily hovered, fussing.
“Mum, wear something warm—your throat’ll hurt. Don’t forget gloves!”
Emily laughed.
“It’s the south—no need for gloves.”
Elizabeth’s heart ached as Lily clung, dispensing advice.
“Take Teddy. He’s my favourite—I’m giving him to you.”
Emily tossed it into the suitcase. Lily tucked him in with a jumper.
“Don’t be sad, Teddy. Mummy’s just upset about leaving. Look after her, okay?”
Elizabeth fled, muffling sobs in a towel. Rage at Emily, pity for Lily—it choked her.
“Taxi’s here—no need to see me off,” Emily chirped.
“Mummy!” Lily flung herself at her. “Don’t go!”
“Get *off*—I’ll miss my flight! Mum, take her!”
Elizabeth scooped up the weeping child. Two minutes later, Emily was gone.
So grandmother and granddaughter carried on. Not in six months, not in five years did Emily return for Lily. She sent money, rare calls, but never visited. Elizabeth worked on, stashing the cash for Lily’s future.
At graduation, classmates posed with families—Lily stood only with Gran.
“Proud of you, love,” Elizabeth beamed. “Shame your mother isn’t here. Sorry I raised her wrong.”
“Gran, don’t,” Lily kissed her silver hair. “You’re my family. I won’t leave you. I’ve known for ages—she left me. I’ve forgiven her. You should too.”
…Lily breezed through university, Gran cheering her onYears later, as Lily tucked her own daughter into bed, the worn-out teddy bear still sat on the shelf—a silent reminder that love, not blood, makes a family.
