**The Second Time Around**
“Mum, I dont want to go to Grandmas!” wailed seven-year-old Emily, squirming out of her mothers grip. “She doesnt like me! She only likes Uncle Oliver!”
“Emily, dont be silly,” sighed Charlotte, wrestling her daughters coat buttons into place. “Grandma loves all her grandchildren the same.”
“No, she doesnt!” Emily stamped her foot. “Yesterday, she gave HenryAunt Lucys boyan ice lolly, and I got nothing!”
“Maybe you had a sore throat?” Charlotte offered weakly.
“No! She just doesnt like me because Im not her *real* granddaughter!”
Charlotte froze, hairbrush mid-air. How on earth did a seven-year-old figure *that* out?
“Emily, who told you that?”
“No one,” Emily muttered, turning to stare out the window. “I worked it out. Henry says his dad and *my* dad are brothers. And I know Dad isnt my *real* dad. My real dad lives far away.”
Charlottes heart clenched. She sat beside Emily on the sofa.
“Listen, love. Dad James *is* your real dad. Hes loved you since you were two. And Grandma Margaret loves you too.”
“Then why does she always praise Henry and tell *me* off?” Emilys eyes welled up.
Charlotte bit her lip. Because Emily was right. Her mother-in-law *did* treat her differently from her golden grandson.
“Sweetheart, were late,” James called, striding in. “Emily, hurry up or Grandma will be waiting.”
“I dont *want* to go!” Emily burst into fresh tears. “She *hates* me!”
James shot Charlotte a confused look.
“Whats going on?”
“Later,” Charlotte mouthed. “Emily, coat on. Were *all* going.”
They trudged through the park in silence, Emily dragging her feet behind them. James carried a bag of groceries for his mother, while Charlotte braced for the usual frosty reception.
Margaret had never warmed to her. When James introduced Charlotte and her toddler, Margaret had sneered, “Why raise another mans child? Find a proper girl and have your *own*.”
But stubborn James adored them. He married Charlotte, legally adopted Emily, and gave her his name. Margaret tolerated itbarelyuntil Jamess older brother, Richard, produced a *proper* grandson: Henry.
“Anyone home?” James knocked.
“Coming!” Margaret swung the door open, beaming at her son. “James, my love!” She kissed his cheek, nodded at Charlotte, then peered past them. “And wheres my little granddaughter?”
Emily shuffled forward. “…Here.”
Margaret ushered them inside. “James, youve lost weight!”
“Mum, Im fine,” he laughed. “Charlottes cooking is brilliant.”
“Good.” Margaret turned to Emily. “Hows school? Top marks?”
“Fine,” Emily mumbled.
“Emily, answer properly,” Charlotte chided.
“Oh, let her be,” Margaret waved a hand. “Children these days. *Henry* got a D in maths yesterday. Richard spent *hours* tutoring him.”
“Emily gets straight As in maths,” James said proudly.
“Lovely,” Margaret said flatly. “Richards bringing Henry later. They miss their uncle.”
Charlotte watched Emilys face fall. She *knew* Grandma lit up for one grandchild more than the other.
“Mum, remember last month when Emily recited that poem for you?” James prompted.
“I suppose,” Margaret said.
“Want to hear another?” Emily asked shyly.
“Go on, then.”
Emily stood in the middle of the lounge, reciting a poem about spring. Charlottes chest ached at her daughters desperate effort to please.
“Very nice,” Margaret clapped half-heartedly. “Wash your hands nowlunch is ready.”
As Emily scampered off, Charlotte cornered Margaret in the kitchen.
“Margaret, can we talk? About Emily. She feels… treated differently.”
Margaret slammed a plate down. “Nonsense.”
“Its *not*. Children notice. She cried all morning about coming.”
“And what do I do *wrong*?” Margaret snapped. “I feed her, dont I?”
“But with Henry, you *hug* him. You *spoil* him. With Emily, its like shes… an afterthought.”
“Because shes *not* mine!” Margaret hissed. “I didnt birth her! Shes got her *own* grandparents!”
“Margaret, Emilys been your granddaughter for *five years*. James adopted her. Shes a *Harris* now.”
“Paperwork,” Margaret rolled her eyes. “Bloods blood. Henrys my grandson. Shes… a *guest*.”
Charlottes throat tightened. “So youll *never* love her?”
“Why *should* I? When you two have *real* children”
“Mum?” Emily stood in the doorway, trembling. “Why did you call me a *guest*? Im your *granddaughter*!”
Charlottes stomach dropped. Shed heard *everything*.
“Emily, go to Dad,” Charlotte said quickly.
“No! I want to know why Grandma *hates* me!”
“I *dont* hate you!” Margaret blustered.
“*Liar*! You said Im not *yours*!” Emily fled, sobbing.
In the lounge, James cradled Emily, baffled. “What happened?”
“Your mother,” Charlotte said icily, “called Emily a *guest*.”
James went pale. “Mum. *Tell me* you didnt.”
Margaret wrung her hands. “James, I only meant”
“You *meant* shes not family.” His voice cracked. “After *five years*?”
Emily clung to him. “She said I have *other* grandparents…”
James stood, jaw set. “Mum. *How* could you?”
In the end, after tears and apologies, Grandma Margaret hugged Emily tight, promising to love her properlyand from that day on, Emily never doubted her place in the family again.
