A Sudden Guest
The small village of Willowbrook was fragrant with freshly baked bread from Mary Whitaker’s old oven. A sudden knock shattered the quiet of the kitchen like smoke scattering in the wind. Mary wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the door.
“Mum, meet Emily—my fiancée,” announced her son Daniel on the doorstep, grinning from ear to ear.
Mary froze, thunderstruck. Emily was nearly six feet tall, teetering on sky-high heels, wearing a short skirt, heavy makeup, and clutching an oversized bag.
“Hello,” Mary managed, hiding her shock. “George, come here!” she called to her husband. “Danny’s brought our future daughter-in-law to meet us!”
George shuffled in wearing slippers and a worn-out vest. His jaw dropped at the sight of Emily as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Pleasure,” he muttered before ducking back inside to change.
Mary shot him a reproachful look. When Daniel had mentioned two days ago he wouldn’t be coming alone, she’d been thrilled—her son was in his thirties, after all, past time to settle down. She’d imagined a modest girl, perhaps in a simple dress with her hair tied back. But Emily? This wasn’t what she’d expected. Stiletto heels, neon nails, feathers poking out of her bag—it was a challenge to everything Mary held dear.
“Come in, Emily,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “George, grab her bag—don’t just stand there!”
George, now in a clean shirt, hefted Emily’s luggage and led them inside. Seizing a moment, Mary hissed at Daniel,
“Who on earth have you brought home? What *is* this getup?”
Daniel laughed. “Mum, don’t start. She might look wild, but she’s pure gold underneath—you’ll see.”
Mary huffed, crossing herself. “Lord save us, what a surprise.”
Chaos unfolded in the house. The men muttered at the table while Emily commandeered Mary and George’s bedroom, unpacking an array of feathered hats, swimsuits, and shimmering fabrics.
“What on earth is *this*?” Mary pinched a lacy scrap between two fingers.
“Lingerie,” Emily chirped. “Want some? I’ve got spare.”
“No *thank you*,” Mary snapped, cheeks blazing. “And why are you taking over *our* room?”
“Dan’s place is cramped, and Uncle George said you wouldn’t mind,” Emily smiled sweetly.
“*Uncle George*, is it?” Mary’s glare could have melted steel. “Right.”
She seized George’s arm and dragged him outside.
“Have you lost your *mind*? Handing over *our* room? You’ll be sleeping on the sofa, *hospitality king*!” she spat.
A low *moo* sounded from the barn.
“Blimey—Daisy’s not been milked because of you lot!” Mary threw up her hands and stormed off.
Emily darted after her. “Can I try? I’ve never milked a cow.”
Mary eyed her up and down. “*In those*?” She nodded at the stilettos.
“I’ll change!” Emily dashed inside and returned minutes later in shorts and a T-shirt.
Mary sighed. “Fine, come on. But wear a headscarf.”
“What about a hat? I’ve got a lovely flowery one.”
“*Headscarf*,” Mary snapped. “Honestly.”
In the barn, she thrust a bucket at Emily. “Do it like this. I’ll start breakfast.”
Half an hour passed with no sign of Emily. Mary set the table and marched back—only to burst out laughing. Emily, headscarf askew, was circling Daisy, muttering to herself.
“I looked *everywhere*!” she protested when Mary, still chuckling, showed her the proper way.
After breakfast, Emily stretched out on a blanket in the garden to sunbathe. George, who’d dodged chores all week, suddenly grabbed a scythe and started cutting grass by the fence, sneaking glances at their guest.
“Emily, fancy helping pick raspberries?” Mary asked, saccharine sweet. “We’ll make jam.”
“Of course, Aunt Mary!” Emily beamed.
In the berry patch, Mary handed her a jar. Emily worked with such fervor that Mary almost softened—until the neighbor called her over. They chatted for an hour, Mary fretting about her unconventional future daughter-in-law while the neighbor urged her not to judge too quickly.
Returning to the garden, Mary found Emily missing.
“Emily? *Where* are you?”
“Over here!” came a voice from the nettles.
Emily emerged, hair tangled with burrs, clothes covered in prickly hitchhikers.
“What were you doing *there*?” Mary gasped. “That’s abandoned land!”
“But the berries are bigger,” Emily said proudly, holding up a full jar.
“Oh, you silly girl,” Mary sighed. “Come on, let’s get those burrs out.”
On the porch, comb in hand, Mary gently worked through Emily’s hair, listening as she spoke unprompted.
“I grew up with Gran. Parents were always traveling, then… they were gone. After school, I waitressed, washed dishes. A modelling agency scouted me, but I hated it. Then Dan offered me an office job—fetching coffee. They’re all kind there.”
Mary’s heart softened. Beneath the flashy exterior was a girl who’d known hardship.
That evening, over tea on the porch, Emily hesitated before speaking.
“Aunt Mary… teach me what you know? It’s so *peaceful* here.”
Mary winked at Daniel. “And will you marry my boy?”
Emily blushed. “He hasn’t asked.”
Daniel roared with laughter. “You’re crafty, Mum.”
“You’ve had your fun,” Mary sniffed. “Emily, if he doesn’t propose, come back. I’ll find you a husband.”
“Thanks,” Emily smiled, “but I love *your* Dan.”
Six months later, their wedding was the talk of Willowbrook. Soon after, Emily whispered that Mary would be a grandmother. Gazing at her daughter-in-law, Mary realized—appearances deceive. Emily’s heart was as big as her outrageous hats.
