I gave my mother-in-law such a present, it would make her feel ill the moment she saw it! And it would shake her to the core every time she looked at it. But she wouldn’t dare throw it awayoh no, she’d have to keep it, right there on display for everyone to see! That’ll teach her, my miserable Edna Brown! For all the fifteen years I’ve been married to Mark, she’s never said a single kind word to me. Not once. Always so cold and curt. At least some peoples’ mothers-in-law mutter something nice, even through gritted teeth. But not her. She just gives me those piercing dark eyes from across the room. I try to visit her as little as possibleonce a year for five minutes just to keep up appearancesthat’s it, I was telling my friend Lucy.
Lucy listened, nodding along eagerly. She wasn’t all that fond of her own mother-in-law, either.
We’d all decided, as tradition between us three childhood friends, to have our “girls’ afternoons” every other Saturday. Lucy, a chef, always brought a mountain of snacksmy son, Jamie, loved them. I, Sophie, am a hairdresser, so Id refresh everyones look right there in my living room. Our third friend, Alice, is a nurse and had just started working at a new place. We barely knew any details yet, as the conversation had turned toward the topic of mothers-in-law.
“I just can’t stand her! She’s nothing to me. If she wasn’t around, then…” I started again, complaining about Edna.
It was then that Alice, whod been quiet up till then, interrupted.
“And what, Sophie? Would that really make your life easier?” she asked, with a twisted little smile.
“Maybe… I guess,” I muttered, falling silent for a moment.
My mind wandered back to the morning, when I’d left the house with my “gift” all wrapped up, smirking with satisfaction. I’d given the package to Edna and sniffily told her, “But only open it after Ive left.” Well, Id spoiled her birthday all right!
“Aliceyou never did tell us where you ended up working now?” Lucy prompted, changing the focus.
The others perked up.
“Private clinic?” I guessed.
“Rolling in it now, I suppose!” Lucy giggled.
“No,” Alice replied simply. “Im working at a hospice.”
The room fell quiet.
“But why?” Lucy finally choked out, surprised.
“Its a place for people who are… terminally ill, Alice. Isnt it dreadful? And what about money?” I shook my head.
“You twohonestly. All you talk about is money. Sophie, dont take this the wrong way, but I need to say ityoure being foolish,” Alice whispered bitterly.
“Excuse me? Whos foolish? Edna?” I snorted.
“No, you, Sophie. What youre doing and saying is just spiteful. I dont know Edna well, but you say she never says a kind word to you? Tell me, when you and Mark needed money to buy a bigger place, who sold her flat in the centre and moved to a cottage out in the sticks so you could afford it? Wasnt that your Edna? And when your little Jamie got so ill, who took him to the best doctors? Wasnt it her old friends son who saved him?
And that night you had too much at your school reunion and woke up at your old classmates? Mark would never have forgiven you if hed found out, but Edna covered for you, saying you were at hers all night. Isnt that so?” Alice pressed on, her voice rising.
“And all those times weve come to yours, and youve served us Ednas homemade pickles, her courgette chutney, her jamswhat about those? You can’t tell a tomato plant from a weed! She does it all because she caresfor all of you. Some people just show their love in what they do, not with grand speeches or fancy words. Others talk and talk but do little in the end,” Alice said.
“Thanks for nothing, Alice. I thought youd support me, not call me foolish!” I got up, indignant, but deep inside something squirmed.
It was as if a tiny worm had woken up inside me, wriggling uncomfortably, spoiling my feeling of victory over Ednas torment. I wanted it to hush, to let me enjoy my “revenge,” but it wouldnt quit. Lucy, anxiously munching through five cheese and onion pasties in a row, was uncharacteristically silent and didnt rush to defend me either.
I felt I should storm out with a slam of the door. Yet I stayed, the unseen worm pinning me to the spot.
“I suppose youve all forgotten that I havent got a mum, then? Ive lived with that for fifteen years too, Sophie, just like you and your mother-in-law. But you spent all that time moaning about Edna, who genuinely cares for you, while Ive just missed my own mum every single day. Sometimes I call her old number, just to see Mum flash up on my phone, just to hear the silence. I curl up in her old blanket and pretend shes hugging me. Theres an emptiness nothing fills,” Alice said softly.
“So yes, forgive me, but I couldnt stay quiet. You have a mum and a mother-in-law. Why treat her like that, Sophie? Why act as if youre so much better than her? Remember how often you called her a country bumpkin? And one more thingwhen did you last give Edna a haircut or help her with her hair colour? You do us all the time,” Alice went on, her voice mild but relentless.
The worm inside twisted sharply at that, and I heard myself, almost against my will, say, “Never.”
Lucys jaw dropped. “Really? Never? Thats not on, Sophie! I always bake for mine, and she loves it, clapping her little hands in delightshes such a sweetheart, really. Always so grateful when I bring cakes and biscuits round. You have it good, you know.”
The worm was silent now, but I was suddenly able to move. I could leave. It didnt stop me anymore.
That morning flashed through my mind againLucy talking about soft, plump hands. My mother-in-laws were the oppositestrong, veined, rough. I used to call them “claws”unkindly. And her wrinkled face, Id called it “old potato” behind her back. What did I really know about Edna? Very little, it seemed.
Yet she was always there, in every crisis. Mark once told me hed had two sisters who both died young, just like their dad. Edna nursed them all, worked all her life. Her pride and joy is Markher one remaining child, my husband. And truth be told, I still love him fiercely after all these years. Hes wonderfula loyal, loving, hard-working man.
“And hes that way because his mother raised him well! He could have turned out a brute or a layaboutor run off with someone else! Not every womans so lucky! And why havent you ever said anything kind to Edna? What stopped you? You scold her but why? You treat everyone to haircutswhy not her? Are you ashamed of her? Fool!” The worm inside me suddenly screamed.
A jolt ran through me.
“Sophie, are you alright?” Alice asked, leaning over in concern.
I nodded, desperately trying not to burst into tears. It felt as though everything I had kept bottled up was about to spill over. I wanted to change the subject, to escape.
“So, Alice, hows your job?”
“Ill never forget the look in their eyes,” Alice mused. “Its dreadful sometimes, yes, but theres so much kindness and hope, too. I hear a lot about what really mattersthings left unsaid, things people wish theyd done differently. There was a young man, so busy and successful, whose mum was with us. He spared no expense for her but she just wanted to visit her childhood home. He kept putting it off. She died, and he wept, begging her to come backWell go now, anywhere you want, Mum! But it was too late.
“And an elderly father, proud as an old soldier, whose daughter lost her hair to illness. Hed bring her pretty hair clips every visitdespite there being no hair to use them on. Shed beam as he gave them, dreaming of future seaside trips together when her hair grew back. She never recovered, but he found comfort, believing she was with her mum now, both waiting for him. Thats the thingsome people weep at graves, undone by grief. Others waste their chances, bickering and scheming until fate catches up with them. People think theyre in full control, but really… we arent,” Alice finished with a sigh.
Lucy glanced at her empty plateno pastries left. She messaged her husband to say theyd have a family night, and to make sure his mum and dad were coming too, for dinner and a sleepover.
“Right, girls, Im off. Emergency family meeting at mine! See you!” And with that, Lucy zipped out the door.
I too stood up, shakily rooting through my bag before dropping everything on the floor. Alice helped me silently, and we parted without another word.
I had things to see to, and my evening was fully booked. ButI couldnt stop thinking about Edna, alone in her little cottage on the outskirts of town, looking at that present Id given her. The very one Id meant to spite her with. How would I have felt, if anyone had done the same to me?
I called everyone up, apologising and promising them extra perks next time, cancelling my appointments, and drove out to Ednas. Marks phone was off. Nerves jangling, I wondered what hed saythis was his mum, after all. By the time I arrived, dusk had settled, and the cottage windows were glowing. Where I used to sneer at the daisy chintz curtains and the geraniums in the window, now they looked welcoming and homely.
I tried to plan out my apologyshould I have brought another gift? No time now. All I could do was promise to make it up to her. Oh, what have I done? I wondered, making my way up the front path.
The door was open. In the cosy living room, a painted platter of dumplings, a dish of cold summer soup (Marks favourite), and stacks of filled pancakes were set out. For a moment, I just watched it all. My husband was chatting with our son, who was tucking into his nans stuffed cabbage rolls. Edna stood by the wall in a blue dress with a white lace collar, her long plait hanging down her back, with two elderly neighbours and a sprightly old gent as guests.
“Look, isnt it lovely?” Edna was saying, holding up my present.
She went on, “Its from our Sophie, Marks wife. Shes like a princess, so fair and delicate, a real beauty. Whenever I look at her, I feel a song in my heart. God does make such marvels! Now Sophie will always be with me, thanks to this wonderful portrait the artist painted of her. I wept for joy when I saw itits the loveliest thing I could ever receive!”
My cheeks and ears burned crimson. The shame flashed through me, just like when I broke my childhood keepsake and blamed my brother.
My present to Edna was a portrait of mea picture Id thought shed hate. I believed Edna disliked me, never praised or complimented me, so I convinced myself that she hated me, toothat she was my enemy. I thought the portrait would annoy her, but shed be too polite to throw it away. But things were so different…
“Sophies so lovely, I sometimes feel shy just talking to her. Shes like a living dollthose cornflower-blue eyes, features like a painting. Not like meawkward, wrinkled, words never come easy. But I do what I can. Sometimes when she stayed over, Id tuck her in, smooth the blanket as she slept. God took my girls too soon, so he sent me Marks wife instead, my very own Sophie. I always tell Mark, his wife is pure gold!”
Live with that! squeaked the little worm insideand then vanished forever.
I never even had a chance to promise that I would make things right, that there was still time. Id already been spottedmy son ran up to me, and Mark came to meet me.
“I thought you had work. Mum said you came round this morning to congratulate her,” he whispered.
“I… I cancelled everything. Edna… May I call you Mum now? Happy birthday!” The lump in my throat made the words wobble.
I almost wanted to fall to my knees, like that man in Alices storyto beg forgiveness from her, from the kindness, from the wisdom in her.
“Sophie! You found time to come back to see methank you, my dear. For an old woman like me. See, everyone! My Sophie came after all!” Edna beamed, looking up at me.
The old gentleman guest gave me an approving nod, glancing between me and my portrait.
Suddenly the room was buzzing with laughter, everyone cheerily making a fuss.
And at last I truly felt gratefulto be alive, to be healthy, to have both my own mum and a mother-in-law whos quietly cared for us, to have a wonderful husband and a son, and work I love. I realised I am, in fact, incredibly lucky.
“Come on, everyone, to the table!” bustled Edna.
“Splendid! And, later, well have a Beauty Day! Would you all like your hair done? And if anyone needs a trim, a colour, anythingjust ask! Itll be my pleasure!” I smiled.
That, I realised, was my real giftto all of them.
We often focus on what we are not given, not realising the love around us is shown in quiet acts, not loud words. Before its too late, learn to value those who quietly, steadfastly love yousometimes, their ways say more than a thousand speeches.
