Service for his mum
Alex, I understand everything, but I didnt sign up to be your mothers kitchen maid, hissed Emily, tossing a tin of peas into the trolley with irritation. Right now, I just want to drop everything, jump in the car and head home. You promised me a quiet family evening, just the three of us, and yet here we are, cooking for an entire battalion of relatives while your mum sits around! Honestly, is this even normal?
Alex looked guilty, scrunching his shoulders and pretending to be absorbed by the ingredients list on the crab sticks. He resembled a naughty dog caught in the act.
Em, please, keep your voice down, people are staring he muttered, trying to take her arm, but she pulled away sharply. Mum just overestimated her energy, it happens to everyone. Lets buy whats left on the list, go back and finish these salads. Just bear with it, for me and the occasion.
“Overestimated”? What a delightful way to put it.
Emily gritted her teeth in frustration. She could see perfectly well that her mother-in-law had calculated everything down to the last detail.
It all began a week ago with a phone call. Margaret Anderson rang to wish the young couple a Happy New Year and, out of the blue, invited them over.
My darlings, Margaret cooed with such sugary sweetness you could get diabetes from listening. Why dont you come to mine for Christmas? I miss you so much! Well sit together as a family, reminisce and chat about old times. Its so lonely here alone within these four walls.
Emily immediately tensed. She felt the trap looming. These “quiet family gatherings” at Margarets always ended up the same way an intense interrogation about grandchildren.
The first time Margaret brought up the subject, Emily and Alex werent even married yet.
Emily dear, have you thought about children yet? she asked when theyd been left alone.
Emily was caught completely off guard.
Well she stammered, desperately searching for an answer. Id love to have kids, but not right now. Alex and I are still just dating.
Oh, Emily, theres nothing stopping children just because you dont have a marriage certificate, Margaret said, waving her hand. But age, thats another matter The clock is ticking, you know. Youre not getting any younger. Neither am I I’ll probably die without ever seeing my grandchildren.
At first, Emily awkwardly laughed it off, then she began biting back. Eventually, without even realising it, she started avoiding her mother-in-law for the sake of her nerves.
So it ended up that Margaret and Emily barely knew or spoke to each other. Emily was quite content with this, had Alex not intervened. He was too gentle-hearted to refuse his mother.
Em, lets just go, he pleaded after yet another call, looking up at her with puppy eyes. Shes getting older. Shes genuinely lonely. Just this once, for me. Please.
Alex, you know I dont celebrate Christmas. Go if you want; I wont hold you back.
Just treat it as a regular family dinner, not Christmas, he persisted. Mum wants to get to know you properly. We are family after all
Emily resisted for ages but finally relented, hoping to get by with a polite smile and afternoon tea with a nice cake. How wrong she was…
Things went wrong the day before. Margaret insisted they arrive by eight in the morning, so they could “spend more time together.” Emily was strictly against this; she wanted a weekend lie-in. After some negotiating, they managed to delay until ten.
Arriving, bleary-eyed, into Margarets flat, they were greeted with nothing. No comforting aroma of roasting meat, no sound of sizzling frying. Their hostess appeared in a stained dressing gown and hair rollers.
At last! Youve arrived, about time! Margaret barked instead of saying hello. Its nearly half eleven! The guests are arriving any minute and not a thing is ready. You shouldve got up earlier! Come on, get in the kitchen youll be helping me.
Emily froze, coat still in hand.
What guests? she asked, bewildered.
Oh, you know, the usual Lucy and William happened to be passing through Oxford, couldnt not invite them. Aunt Linda from upstairs is popping in. My niece promised to stop by… I couldnt possibly refuse them. Anyway, enough chit-chat, lets get to work, were running out of time!
Thats when Emily realised the full scale of the disaster. They hadnt been invited as guests. Theyd been recruited as unpaid help.
The “festivities” descended into chaos. Margaret transformed from a welcoming hostess into a sergeant, wielding a dishcloth for authority, rushing round the flat with orders. She didnt lift a finger herself in the kitchen, not even to peel a potato. Whats more, shed completely miscalculated the shopping missing things, forgetting essentials. She thrust a list into Alexs hand and sent the couple to Tesco.
Emily really was ready to run for it, but decided to stick it out, for Alexs sake.
Soon, they returned to their “workstations”. Emily at the chopping board, Alex peeling spuds in the sink. Instead of the promised festive atmosphere, they got a marathon of tasks. They slaved away in the heat for five hours, with no break.
By four oclock, the guests started pouring in smart, perfumed, cheerful. Emily and Alex, meanwhile, looked battered: red-faced, greasy, their clothes speckled with stains. By the time they dragged themselves to the table, they were exhausted in no mood to celebrate, let alone live.
Margaret, however, had changed into a fine dress and dabbed lipstick on. She sat proudly at the head of the table, accepting compliments.
Oh Margaret, youre fantastic Such a wonderful hostess, so much food! gushed a woman Emily didnt recognise, heaping up a slice of the homemade salad Emily had chopped.
I do try. All for my guests, everything for you, Margaret replied modestly.
Later, Margaret raised her glass and launched into a lecture about “biological clocks” and grandchildren. If it werent for Alex pressing his knee against hers under the table, Emily might have dumped the vinaigrette right into her lap.
Thats the last time, she said bluntly to Alex as they drove home late that night. I wont step foot in your mothers house again. She can invite you over and you can help as much as you like, but youll do it alone. Thats it for me.
Alex didnt argue. He simply nodded quietly.
Three months passed. Emilys back had properly recovered from that fateful day, but the memory lingered. So when Alex mentioned at the beginning of March that his mum was inviting them again, Emily clenched her jaw.
Shes asking us over for Mothers Day. Says itll definitely be just the three of us this time. Maybe Aunt Linda will drop by briefly, but shell just say hi and head out, said Alex, seeing Emilys expression and quickly adding, But Im not forcing you, just passing on the message.
Alex braced himself, expecting anger and accusations, but Emily just gazed thoughtfully out the window and then
Alright. Tell your mum well be there.
Em Seriously? You said
I remember what I said. But if I refuse, shell start guilt-tripping and calling us daily again, like last time. I want to make sure shell stop inviting, stop crying and stop pushing for pity. Just trust me, if youd like to avoid another slog in her kitchen.
Alex looked away. He didnt press for details, keeping a neutral stance…
Mothers Day started far differently from what Margaret expected. Emily and Alex stayed in bed, watching a silly comedy show and munching ice cream straight from the tub. No fuss, no makeup, no desperate search for clean shirts.
At noon, Margaret rang them, worried.
Hello, Margaret? You wont believe it Weve only just woken up, Emily said, her voice full of fake remorse. Stayed up late with friends last night, overslept.
Oh, Emily, how could you? Ive been waiting for you, Margaret said rather sourly. Hurry up now. The roast goose is getting cold.
Were on our way! An hour, hour and a half tops, promised Emily, then returned to the show.
Alex glanced nervously at his wife, but kept quiet. Better to stay warm in bed than sweat over his mothers stove again.
At one oclock the phone rang again. Emily let it ring a while before answering.
Were nearly off, Margaret! Just calling a taxi now, well be there in a flash, she chirped, still in bed.
Another hour passed, and the excuse changed.
Theres been a car accident on the main road, total standstill, Emily relayed, muting the TV. Awful traffic jam. Should clear up soon though.
Around three-thirty, Margaret lost patience.
Where are you anyway?! she barked, all her honeyed tone vanished. How long are you going to take?! Youd have walked here faster!
Emily could hear laughter and voices in the background. She squinted.
Margaret, youre not alone, are you? she asked bluntly.
Alone, not alone What does it matter? Margaret retorted. Relatives popped in to congratulate me. Can’t turn them away. Are you coming or what?! Im on my last legs, its hard on my own!
So, Margaret was once again counting on unpaid helpers but her strategy had failed and shed had to cook herself.
Actually Were not coming, Emily replied calmly.
What?!
I suddenly feel ill. Mustve been the car journey. Were going home instead.
Silence on the line, then Margaret erupted.
How dare you?! Ungrateful brat! Ive been slaving in the kitchen all day for whom?! For whom?! she shouted. Youre doing this on purpose! Youre taking the mick! If I have a stroke now, itll be your fault! Alex! Put Alex on!
Alex heard it all, but didnt move, simply lowered his eyes. Emily paused, then pressed the red button, ending the call and turning off the phone.
Exactly as expected, she told her husband. Theres a crowd over there. We were meant to serve them all. Let your mum handle her guests herself, since she invited a small army.
That evening, they went over to Emilys parents.
The difference was obvious from the start. There was commotion, but the atmosphere was warm. No one sat around with a sour face, waiting to be waited on. Emilys mother tried to squeeze an enormous salad bowl onto the table. Even her father was slicing up sandwiches.
Oh, the young ones are here! he beamed, seeing his daughter and son-in-law. Alex, fetch some chairs from the bedroom for the lounge so youve got somewhere to sit.
Alex went to oblige. Emily joined her mother, helping lay out the plates.
Yes, they helped, but not under duress. Here, it didnt feel like exploitation; it was simply natural. Everyone pitched in so that everyone could enjoy themselves.
At the table, Emily watched her smiling mother and Alex, chatting cheerfully with her dad, and felt the stress gradually melt away. Justice had finally been served. Harsh as the fallout was, Margaret Anderson would think twice before trying her tricks again. The bridges between Emily and her mother-in-law were scorched beyond repair, but anything was better than being the servant at someone elses party.
If I learned anything that day, it’s this: sometimes you have to draw a firm line so youre not taken for granted, even by family.
