**A Baked Truth: How One Cod Turned a Family Upside Down**
William came home from work, tired but happy. A delicious smell wafted from the kitchen. He peeked in, rubbing his hands together:
“Mmm, that smells amazing! What’s cooking, Emily?”
“Just baked some fish,” his wife replied calmly.
Before he could ask about the seasonings, odd noises came from deeper in the flat. William tensed:
“Are the neighbours at it again?”
“Nope, not the neighbours. There’s a surprise waiting for you in the back room,” Emily said with a mysterious smile.
“Surprise? What sort?” he asked, puzzled.
“Go and see for yourself.”
William walked slowly down the hall, cautiously opened the door—and froze. There, sitting in the armchair as if it were nothing, was his mother—Margaret Thompson.
She’d turned up unannounced earlier. Emily, thinking it was a delivery, had answered the door straight away.
“Margaret, hello. Why didn’t you call? What if we hadn’t been home?”
“William’s at work, you’re home. I can manage, I’m not an invalid yet. Where’s my room?”
“Come through here for now, we’ll sort it out.”
“You’ve got three bedrooms, and you can’t decide straight away? And how does he not know?”
“He didn’t know either. You didn’t tell him?”
“Why should I? I’m not visiting. I’m moving in.”
Emily bit her tongue, though she felt everything inside clench. She had to finish her work, so she asked her mother-in-law to wait. Margaret looked around with a smirk, tossing out one last remark:
“The fridge is empty…”
“Groceries are on the way.”
When the delivery arrived, Emily quickly put together a simple lunch—bread, cheese, sliced ham, brewed tea.
“Would you like some porridge? Pancakes?”
“Don’t trouble yourself. If I want anything, I’ll make it.”
Emily nodded and left. Half an hour later, work done, she returned to the kitchen—only to hear that Margaret had “claimed” the room next to the bathroom—William’s gaming den. She’d already announced:
“Mess, dirt, unwashed dishes. Does he even clean up after himself?”
“He works. Relaxes in here.”
“Works? More like plays with his toys. You sit at home, order food online, while he slogs away day and night?”
Emily held her tongue. Too much bitterness had built up, but now wasn’t the time. She remembered a recent chat with her own mum, complaining about William’s gaming habits:
“Well, at least he’s not out gallivanting. Plays quietly,” her mum had said reassuringly.
“And when are we having kids, then?”
“Still a boy at heart…”
And it was true. All the money his mum had given them for the flat, William had blown on expensive tech. A childhood dream, he’d called it. Still, the flat was in Emily’s name, thanks to her parents’ contribution.
After lunch, Margaret dozed off in her “new” room. William got back from work, heard the snoring, and frowned:
“Are the neighbours being loud?”
“No. Your mum. Go on, talk to her.”
She woke up right on cue. No pleasantries, straight to business:
“I’m retired now. Planning to travel—stay with you in between. Selling my flat. Gave you the money, so technically, I’ve got my share here too.”
“Mum, seriously? We wanted this room for a nursery. Emily won’t agree.”
“Then pay me back. Fair’s fair.”
“I already send you money every month. We’ve got our own lives.”
“Your own lives? Emily sits at home. You’re the only one working. Hand over the paperwork. I assume everything’s in order?”
Emily left without a word, returned with a folder.
“Here. The flat’s in my name. My parents paid the deposit.”
“What about mine?”
“Spent. On your precious son. On his ‘childhood.'”
William stood, guilt flashing in his eyes.
“Sorry, Mum. But I really wanted it back then. Now? I’m done. Over it.”
“Finally!” Emily burst out. “And if you don’t stop, I’m filing for divorce. Then you can live with Mum and your gadgets.”
“Emily, don’t! I’ll sell it all. Promise. Let’s have dinner. No computer tonight.”
At the table, Margaret sat in glowering silence.
“So, I’m nothing here? I expected better.”
“You’re William’s mother. But this is our home. And I won’t live by your rules.”
“William, you’re whipped!”
“Better whipped by my wife than controlled by my mum. You’ve decided everything for me my whole life. Enough. I’m grown now.”
Margaret stood without a word, grabbed her bag.
“Call me a cab. I’m leaving. You’ll remember me yet…”
William silently saw her out. When he returned, he slumped into his chair.
“I’ll have the fish and the meat. All of it. I’m starving.”
“About the gaming—were you serious?”
“Yeah. Selling it all. We’ll need the money for kids. I’m ready now. And Mum… we’ll figure it out. Just as long as you’re with me.”
Emily smiled. And deep down, she felt it—that forbidden fruit had finally ripened.
