A Storm in the House: The Drama of Jessica
Jessica had just seen her husband off to work and, longing for a moment of peace, returned to the bedroom of their cozy flat in Manchester. But before she could settle, a sharp knock rattled the door.
“Open up, now!” came the commanding voice of her mother-in-law from the other side.
Jessica, unsettled by the harsh tone, obliged. There stood Margaret Williams, her eyes blazing with determination.
“Margaret, is something wrong?” Jessica asked cautiously, her heart tightening with unease.
“Were you asleep? Get up—we’re preparing my room! I’m moving in!” Margaret declared, as though issuing a challenge.
“Moving in? Why?” Jessica froze, unable to grasp the words.
In Jessica and David’s household, joy had reigned—Jessica was five months pregnant. But their happiness was shadowed by David’s mother. Ever since Margaret learned of her grandchild, she had smothered Jessica with suffocating “care,” leaving her desperate to escape.
Margaret had always doted on her son, but her treatment of Jessica bordered on oppressive. Her words carried the weight of an anvil—each one laced with backhanded praise and venom.
“I look at you and worry,” she announced one day, appearing uninvited yet again.
“Why?” Jessica asked, glancing at herself in surprise.
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?” Margaret narrowed her eyes. “Skinny as a rake! Hands like twigs, narrow hips. How will you give birth? Only your eyes are pretty—must be why my David fell for you. There’s not much else to you.”
Jessica was stunned. Was that a compliment or an insult? She didn’t know how to respond.
“You must’ve been sickly as a child,” Margaret pressed. “Where were your parents?”
“I wasn’t!” Jessica retorted, cheeks flushing. “My parents took me to the seaside every summer!”
“Exactly—because you were frail. You’ve just forgotten!” Margaret snapped, as if settling the matter.
This was her trademark “care”—never a kind word without a barb. The only exceptions were David and his sister, Emily, who lived in another city. For them, she had nothing but adoration.
By the seventh month, Jessica dreaded Margaret’s visits more than childbirth itself. She even considered cancelling her birthday just to avoid her. But David insisted:
“I want to make you happy, Jess. A family celebration should be joyful!”
David, accustomed to his mother’s ways, never noticed the toll her jabs took on Jessica.
“Why not celebrate at home?” he suggested a week before the party. “Restaurants are crowded, and it’s too risky in your condition.”
“Why at home?” Jessica replied flatly.
“You’ll be giving birth soon—no need to catch anything.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “But no big feast. I can’t cook.”
“Mum will come early and help!” David announced cheerfully.
Jessica went still, her eyes darkening.
“Was this Margaret’s idea?”
“What’s Mum got to do with it? It was my decision!”
“Of course it was! Nothing happens without her input!” Jessica snapped.
“Jess, she means well!”
“Enough! We’ll celebrate at home, but my mum will help!”
“Yours has to travel an hour from the countryside. Mine’s just down the road.”
“My parents will come the night before—they’ll stay over!” Jessica cut in.
“Why so cross?”
“One more word, and I’ll ask them to bring the dog!”
“You know I can’t stand dogs,” David reminded her.
“Exactly!” Jessica stormed off, slamming the bedroom door.
The day before the party, Jessica’s parents, Patricia and Henry, arrived with gifts—vegetables from their garden and baby clothes. Patricia knew her daughter wasn’t superstitious, so she’d already bought nursery items. Jessica and David had bought a crib and pram, but kept it from Margaret.
“Mum, don’t mention the baby things around Margaret,” Jessica pleaded.
“Still pushing her superstitions on you?” Patricia asked.
“Barely lets me breathe,” Jessica sighed. “Since I went on leave, I jump at every knock.”
“And David?”
“He’s fine—always at work. But his mother…”
“This isn’t right,” Patricia frowned. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“Mum, don’t!”
“I’ve been a mother for thirty years. I won’t let anyone bully you!”
On Jessica’s birthday morning, her parents were already bustling in the kitchen.
“Happy birthday, love!” Henry was the first to hug her.
“Our beautiful girl—be happy!” Patricia joined in.
Jessica showed off David’s gift—a ring and tickets to an exhibition she’d longed to see.
“Lucky with your husband, dear!” Henry smiled. “I’d never remember which exhibit your mum fancied.”
“I’ll freshen up and help,” Jessica said.
“I’ll set the table,” David offered.
The merriment halted when the intercom buzzed—Margaret had arrived.
“Oh, the in-laws! How rare to see you. Must be a long trek from the countryside to visit your pregnant daughter,” she sneered.
Patricia didn’t hold back:
“Unlike some, Margaret, we don’t intrude uninvited. But we do send money regularly.”
Margaret grimaced but stayed silent—Patricia had struck a nerve. The party was tense, Jessica and David straining to keep the peace.
The next morning, Jessica’s parents left. David went to work, and Jessica, craving rest, headed to bed. But the intercom buzzed again.
“Open up!” Margaret barked.
Jessica let her in, uneasy.
“Good morning, Margaret. Is something wrong?”
“Asleep again? Up! We’re preparing my room—I’m moving in before the birth!”
Jessica was speechless. Living with Margaret? A nightmare.
“Margaret, there’s no need. David and I will manage. Please, don’t move in. Where would you even stay? The living room?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Margaret scoffed. “Buy a sofa bed for the nursery. I’ll sleep near my grandchild—tend to him, set his routine, raise him right!”
Jessica’s skin crawled. Margaret’s suffocating presence was bad enough—now this?
“I lived with David in his student digs! Fed him, ironed his shirts, helped with his dissertation! Thanks to me, he’s where he is today!”
Trembling, Jessica called David. He rushed home and, after one look at his mother, said:
“Mum, go home. We don’t need you to move in. Enough—I’m a grown man.”
Margaret’s face twisted with hurt. She wanted to help, and they rejected her!
“Ungrateful wretches! You won’t see me again!” She stormed out.
Until the birth, Jessica and David lived in peace—Margaret kept away. On the day they brought the baby home, Jessica’s parents arrived, and unexpectedly, so did Margaret. They took photos outside the hospital and returned to the young couple’s flat. There was no grand feast—the baby was too small. Seeing Jessica’s exhaustion, her parents soon prepared to leave.
But Margaret, noticing their departure, announced:
“You go. I’ll stay—they need help!”
Jessica fought back tears. Patricia, seeing her daughter’s distress, stepped in:
“Margaret, when your Emily has a child, help her. Jessica has me. She’ll call if she needs anything. Need a lift home?”
“Who are you to throw me out? You don’t care about this baby—I do! I’m staying!”
The argument exploded. David intervened, driving his mother home with a firm warning:
“Don’t come back uninvited.”
Margaret protested, but David held firm. They argued bitterly. Now, Margaret refuses to speak to David or Jessica, waiting for an apology. But the young couple feel no guilt and aren’t rushing to reconcile.
