**With the Best Intentions**
Yes, I know you dont *have* to help, but hes your own flesh and blood! Would you really leave the boy without warm clothes this winter? Alex, is this what I raised you to be? His mothers voice crackled through the phone.
The mobile lay on the table. After a few explosive family rows, Alex had learned his lessonwhen Mum called, it was best to put her on speaker so he and Emma could face her together. Otherwise, Lydia Montgomery would pick them off one by one.
Mrs. Montgomery, were not refusing to help, Emma countered evenly.But if looking after little Jamie is too much for you, let us take him. Sophies fine with it; weve spoken.
Lydia fell silent for a moment, weighing her options: surrender the unwanted responsibility or keep her grip on her daughter. Control won out.
Youve no idea what youre asking for! she sneered.Neither of you has ever raised a childor even a kitten! You both work all hours. Wholl look after him? Or do you think children grow like weeds? They need care, attention, love!
I understand that, Emma said calmly.But given the situation, wed manage. Id quit my job if needed. Consider it my maternity leave instead of Sophies.
And how will you live, then? On fresh air?
Youve always said my salary barely makes a dent. Wed survive without it.
Lydia went quiet. Alex sighed. Emma was still new to the family drama, but he was exhausted by it.
Fine. Issue your ultimatums, Lydia snapped at last.Youre young and foolish. You dont realise what youre getting into. *I* do. Im trying to help, to shoulder the burdenbut no, you insist on making things harder. Just remember: while youre busy asserting yourselves, that boy is freezing and falling ill because of you.
The line went dead. Emma sat beside Alex, resting her head on his shoulder, remembering how it all began.
…At first, Lydia had seemed warm and generous, if a little strong-willed. Shed welcomed Emma with open arms long before the wedding, setting tables groaning under feasts and packing their car with groceries whenever they visited. She called daily, checking in, asking if Alex was treating her right, inviting her over. Once, shed even pulled strings to get Emmas mother into a top-tier hospital. Emma had been deeply grateful.
But there was another side. Miss a call or cut a chat short, and Lydia transformed. Shed sulk for weeks, speaking down her nose, waiting for apologies.
Oh, I see. Too *busy* for me now shed say bitterly.
Emma laughed it off, but the “care” felt stifling, transactional.
Lydia had a daughter, Sophie, who left Emma uneasy. The girl never smiled, flinched at loud noises, and always retreated to her room. Emma assumed it was just teenage moodinessSophie was only sixteen.
What does Sophie like? Emma had asked Lydia before Christmas.Im stumped on her gift.
Oh, nothing, Lydia dismissed with a wave.Glued to her phone all day. Nothings ever good enough for her. Useless…
Thats when Emma knew something was wrong. *Her* mother would never speak of her that way.
Later, she saw how Lydia treated Sophiesmiling at Emma one moment, then screaming at her daughter over a smudged plate. Wrong friends, wrong clothes, wrong music… And that was just what Emma witnessed.
No surprise, then, that at eighteen Sophie rushed into marriagenot for love, but escape.
That foolish girl! Lydia fumed.Tied herself to some good-for-nothing! Thinks happiness is out there? Hell leave her within the month!
With Sophie gone, Lydia turned her attention to Emma and Alex. What once seemed like quirks now felt suffocatingunsolicited advice, surprise visits, the endless “When will you give me grandchildren?”
Emma, love, why not leave that little shop? Lydia suggested one day.I could get you a *proper* job through connections. Better pay, better hours.
By then, Emma knew: accept, and shed owe Lydia forever.
No thanks. I like my job. The girls there are lovely.
Lydias lips thinned.Suit yourself. I only want whats bestbut if youre content scraping by, fine.
About Sophie, Lydia was half-right. The marriage lasted not a month, but eighteenjust long enough for Sophie to have a baby.
Though not close, Sophie once broke down in front of Emma.
Hes never home, she sobbed.Says hes with mates, but Im not stupid. Hes lied before. And its not just thathes raised his hand at me.
Sophie, you need to leave.
And go where? Back to *her*? No. Ill take this over that.
That said everything. Sophie would endure anythingjust not Lydia.
When her husband left, Sophie returned home with Jamie. The cycle began: Lydia berated her for being a failure, a bad mother, doomed to poverty. Still, she watched Jamie while Sophie worked, helping financially.
Until Sophie snapped. One day, she packed a bag and leftwithout her son.
Id take Jamie, but where would we go? she admitted later.Im crashing at a mates. I need to sort myself out first. Maybe see a therapist… Mum used to push me so far, Id… well. Jamie doesnt deserve that. I need time.
While Sophie healed, Lydia turned to Alex and Emma, demanding help with Jamie, citing money troubles and poor health.
Emma saw where this led. Sophie still bore scars of Lydias “love.” Alex, though tight-lipped, always caved.
Quietly, Alex suggested taking Jamie. But confronting Lydia was unthinkable.
Sophie, Emma pressed,do you want Jamie to go through what you did? Bring him to us. Well care for him until youre back on your feet.
Easy for you to say. I cant just *snatch* him.
Contact social services. There must be a way.
Sophie nodded.Ill figure it out.
And she did. Pretending to reconcile, she moved back in. Two weeks later, she took Jamie “for a walk”and brought him to Emma and Alex.
Lydia erupted. Threats, police, hystericsall for nothing. Sophie ended up hospitalised from stress, but the worst was over.
Emma quit her job to care for Jamie, but didnt mind. Theyd already talked about childrennow fate handed them one.
…Five years later, Sophie had a steady job and a flat-share, finally free of shouting and control.
Mum Emma, look! Me and George built a tower! Jamie beamed, pointing at wobbling blocks.
He lived with Sophie now but spent weekends with Emma and Alex, convinced he had two mums, and adored his little cousin. Emma always bought toys in pairsshe couldnt leave Jamie out.
As for Lydia? They no longer spoke. Her money dwindled, her social circle shrankfew tolerated her without gain. Sometimes Emma pitied her, but watching Jamie and George laugh, she knew: thered been no other way.
Lydia wanted a family that marched to her tune, but love isnt a battleground. Now the “deserters” built their own happiness, leaving the past behind.
**And the lesson?**
The tightest grip often pushes people away. True care means letting go.
