You know, my mother-in-law was never exactly the warm and fuzzy type.
“Emily, did you leave that wet towel on the hook in the bathroom again?”
Id only just stepped inside after a long day at the office, and Susans voice echoed from the hallway with that signature disapproval of hers. She stood there, arms folded, practically glaring right through me.
“Its drying,” I replied, kicking off my shoes. “Thats what the hooks for.”
“In proper homes, towels go on the airing rack. But I suppose you wouldnt know about that.”
I didnt bother responding as I walked past. Here I was, twenty-eight, two degrees under my belt, running a whole department, and still getting lectured about towels every single day.
Susan watched me leave with that familiar dissatisfied look. She never liked me, not from day onealways thought I was too reserved, too stand-offish. Poor Oliver deserved someone warmer, she always muttered under her breath. Someone more homely. Not me.
Over the next few days, Susan was in full observation mode. Noticed everything. Remembered everything.
“Jamie, tidy up your toys before tea.”
“Dont want to.”
“I didnt ask if you wanted to, Jamie. Put them away, please.”
My six-year-old, Jamie, puffed his cheeks, but still shuffled over to pick up his scattered toy soldiers. I carried on chopping vegetables, barely glancing over.
Susan watched all this quietly from the living room. There it was againthe coolness that had always bothered her. No smile, no cooing, just orders. Poor little boy.
Later that evening, Jamie snuggled next to Susan once Id gone off to put some washing away.
“Gran, whys mum always so grumpy?”
She smoothed his hair, seizing the perfect moment.
“Oh, love, some people just find it hard to show how much they care. Its sad, really, but thats how it is sometimes.”
“But youre not like that, are you?” he asked.
“Of course not, darling. Gran loves you very much. Gran isnt grumpy at all.”
Jamie clung to her a little tighter. Susan smiled, pleased as punch.
Whenever they were alone, Susan would gently add more layers to her story, taking great care to never push too hard, too fast.
“Mum wouldnt let me watch cartoons before bed,” Jamie complained one day.
“Bless you. Mummy is a bit strict, isnt she? Sometimes Gran thinks shes a touch too firm as well, but dont you worry, sweetheart. You can always come to me. Gran understands.”
Jamie nodded, soaking up every word. Grandma was kind. Grandma understood. Mum… not so much.
“Did you know,” Susan would whisper conspiratorially, “some mums just arent naturally cuddly. Its not your fault, Jamie. Youre a wonderful boy. Its just that your mum… well, she could try a bit harder.”
Jamie hugged his gran, but there was something new brewing inside him, something cold and hard to make sense of when it came to his mum.
A few weeks went by before I noticed anything had really changed.
“Jamie, love, come here for a cuddle?”
He pulled away.
“Dont want a cuddle.”
“Why not?”
“Just dont.”
He bolted off to his gran. I was left standing in Jamies room with my arms open, feeling like a piece of our life had quietly snapped, and I had no idea when it had happened.
From the hallway, Susan watched, hiding a triumphant little smirk.
That evening, I knelt next to Jamie.
“Are you cross with me, sweetheart?”
He shook his head, but his eyes looked distant.
“Why dont you want to play with me anymore?”
He just shrugged. “I want Gran.”
And that was that. The hurt sat heavy in my chest.
Later, when Oliver came home, I confided in him as we sat at the kitchen table, my mug of tea long gone cold.
“Ollie, I justI dont know Jamie anymore. He avoids me. It was never like this before.”
“Come on, Em. Kids change their minds every day. Dont go reading too much into it.”
“Its not a phase. He looks at me like Ive done something awful.”
“Youre worrying too much. Mums been looking after him while we work. Maybe hes just gotten a bit attached.”
I wanted to say more, but he already had his nose in his phone.
Meanwhile, Susan was upstairs putting Jamie to sleep whenever Oliver and I worked late.
“Your mum loves you, Jamie, she just… shes not very good at showing it, is she? She can be a bit stern. Not all mums are soft, you know?”
“Why?” he asked, little voice so small.
“Sometimes people just are that way, petal. You know Gran would never treat you like that. Gran will always look after you. Not like mum.”
Hed fall asleep with those words in his ear, and each morning hed eye me a little more warily.
It was clear as day who Jamie preferred now.
“Jamie, shall we go for a walk in the park?” I offered, holding out my hand.
“I want to go with Gran.”
“Jamie…”
“With Gran!”
Susan quickly took his hand.
“Dont pester him, Emily. He doesnt want to go with you. Come on, Jamie, lets get some ice cream instead.”
Off they went, and I just stood there, something heavy settling in my chestmy own son turning his back on me, running to my mother-in-law, and I still didnt know why.
That evening, Oliver found me in the kitchen, staring into my now cold tea.
“Em, Ill talk to him. I promise.”
I just nodded. I was all out of words.
He sat next to Jamie that night in his room.
“Jamie, tell me, son. Why dont you want to spend time with Mum anymore?”
Jamie looked away from him.
“No reason…”
“There must be something. Has Mum upset you?”
“No…”
“Then what is it, Jamie?”
He just stayed quiet. At six years old, he couldnt explain the jumble inside himGran had said Mum was grumpy, cold. That must be true. Gran never lied.
Oliver left the room with no answers.
Susan, meanwhile, was preparing her next move. I was looking more and more beaten down, and she could see it. It wouldnt be long now before Id pack my things, she thought. Oliver deserved better. A real woman, not some ice queen.
“Jamie,” she caught him in the hallway next day while I was in the shower, “You know Gran loves you more than anyone, dont you?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And your mum… well, shes not very good, is she? Never hugs you or says sweet things, always telling you off. Poor boy.”
She didnt hear the steps behind her.
“Mum.”
Susan whipped around. Oliver stood in the doorway, pale as a sheet.
“Jamie, go onback to your room,” he said quietly, but so firmly that Jamie scurried off without a word.
“Mum, I heard the whole thing.”
A sharp silence settled between them.
“You… youve been turning Jamie against Emily? All this time?”
“Im looking out for my grandson! Shes too harsh with him!”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Susan stepped back. Oliver had never looked at her with such disgust.
“I was only trying”
“No. Listen to me.” He stepped closer, voice tight with anger. “You have been poisoning my son against his mother. My wife. Do you realise what youve done?”
“I just wanted whats best!”
“Best? Jamies scared of his own mum! Emilys been beside herself. Thats what you call best?”
Susan stuck out her chin in defiance.
“I never thought she was right for you. Shes too cold, too strict”
“Enough!”
His shout froze them both. Oliver was breathing hard.
“Pack your things. Today.”
“Youre kicking me out?”
“Im protecting my family. From you.”
Susan opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She could see from his facethere was no going back. No bargaining. No second chances.
Within the hour, she was gone. No goodbyes.
Oliver found me in the bedroom.
“I know what happened. I know why Jamies changed.”
I looked up at him, eyes stinging red.
“It was my mum,” he said. “Shes been telling Jamie youre mean, that you dont love him properly. Shes been turning him against you, Em. All along.”
I just stared at him. Then let out a long, shaky breath.
“I honestly thought I was losing my mind. I thought I was just a terrible mother.”
Oliver wrapped his arms around me.
“Youre a brilliant mum. I dont know what got into her. Jamie wont have to hear another word from her, I promise.”
The next few weeks were a slog. Jamie kept asking for Gran, not understanding why she wasnt there anymore, and I swear it nearly broke me. We did our best to explain, gently and with patience.
“Sweetheart,” I said, stroking his hair one evening, “what Grandma said about me… it isnt true. I love you very, very much.”
Jamie looked at me, a little suspicious.
“But youre grumpy.”
“Not grumpy, just firm. Because I want you to be a good boy. Being firm is another way to show that I care, do you understand?”
He thought for a long moment.
“Will you give me a cuddle then?”
I scooped him up and held him tightly, and he laughed in surprise.
Day by day, bit by bit, Jamie began to come back. Hed run over, waving a new drawing for me to see. He started nodding off to my lullabies again. Oliver would watch us playing in the living room, and I knew he was thinking about his mum even if he didnt say it. She rang a few times, but he never answered.
Susan was left by herself in her little flat. No grandson, no son. Everything shed done to protect Oliver had only ended up isolating her.
I rested my head on Olivers shoulder.
“Thank you for fixing things.”
“Im sorry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me.”
Jamie bounded over and climbed into Olivers lap.
“Dad, Mum! Can we go to the zoo tomorrow?”
Life, at last, felt like it was starting to mend itself.
