“You’re not family,” said the mother-in-law, scooping the meat from her daughter-in-law’s plate back into the pot.
Emily froze by the stove, the plate still in her hands. Only the gravy remained from the beef stew Rachel had just made. Piece by piece, the meat disappeared into the pot, as though her mother-in-law was counting each one.
“Excuse me?” Emily barely recognized her own voice.
“Whats not clear?” Rachel wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face her. “We never accepted you into this family. You forced your way in.”
The kitchen fell so silent that the bubbling soup on the stove sounded deafening. Emily set the plate down and pushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Her hands trembled.
“Rachel, I dont understand. Victor and I have been married five years! We have a daughter”
“And what of it?” Rachel cut her off. “Lucy is our blood, yes. But you? Youll always be an outsider.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Victor walked in, tousled from a nap after work.
“Whats going on?” He glanced between them. “Why the shouting?”
“Were not shouting,” Rachel said calmly. “Just talking. Explaining to your wife how things work in this house.”
Victor frowned at Emily. She stood pale-lipped, fists clenched.
“Mum, what did you say?”
“The truth. That meat isnt for everyone. Big family, small portions.”
Emily felt a lump rise in her throat. So this was it. Five years believing she was part of this family. Five years bending over backward for Rachel, enduring her jabs, hoping time would soften her.
“Vic, Im going home,” she whispered. “To Mums.”
“What home?” Rachel scoffed. “Your home is here now. Or do you think you can come and go as you please?”
“Mum, stop,” Victor stepped toward Emily. “What happened?”
Emily stayed silent. How could she explain that his mother had just made it clearshe was nothing here? That even a plate of stew was too much for her?
“Ill pack Lucys things,” she said instead. “Take her to my mums for the weekend.”
“Why?” Rachel snapped. “Her grandmothers right here! Why drag the child around?”
“Her grandmother thinks her own mother isnt family,” Emily said quietly. “Maybe Lucy deserves better company.”
She turned to leave. Victor grabbed her wrist.
“Em, wait! Just tell me what happened.”
Emily faced him. His eyes were wide, confused. Rachel stood by the stove, pretending to stir the soup.
“Ask your mother,” Emily said. “Shell explain it better.”
In the nursery, three-year-old Lucy played with her dolls. She beamed when Emily entered.
“Mummy! Look, Im feeding Katie!”
“Well done, love.” Emily knelt to hug her. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes! Grandma said were having stew!”
“We are, sweetheart. But were going to eat at Granny Claires tonight.”
Lucy gasped. “Granny Claires? Yay! Is Daddy coming?”
“No, Daddys staying home.”
Emily began packing Lucys bagdresses, tights, toys, enough for a few days. Victor appeared in the doorway.
“Em, this is ridiculous. Over some nonsense?”
“Ridiculous?” Emily straightened. “Your mother just told me Im not family! Took food off my plate! Thats nonsense?”
“Mum says things! You know how she is. Shell forget by tomorrow.”
“But I wont, Vic! This isnt the first time.”
“Oh, come off it! Shes just tired. Works been hard.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“Tired? Five years of being tired? And Im always the target.”
“Well, ignore her!”
“Ignore being called a stranger in my own home? Listen to yourself!”
Victor rubbed his neck, pacing. A familiar gesturehis tell when he had no answers.
“Em, where will you go? Were family. We have a child.”
“Thats why Im leaving. I wont let Lucy hear her mother belittled!”
“Whos belittling you? Mum just shared her opinion.”
“Her opinion?” Emily stopped packing. “She took food from me, Vic! Said I didnt belong! Thats an opinion?”
“Alright, maybe it was harsh. But she raised us alone after Dad died. Shes used to controlling things.”
“And Im supposed to live under her thumb forever?”
Victor sat on the bed, taking her hands.
“Em, lets not fight. Ill talk to her.”
“Talk? Tell her Im human? That I have feelings?”
“Yeah. Ill tell her to back off.”
Emily shook her head.
“Its not about rudeness, Vic. Its that she doesnt accept me. And you let it happen.”
“She just needs time”
“Five years wasnt enough? How much longer?”
Rachels voice rang from the kitchen:
“Vic! Dinners ready! Its getting cold!”
Victor stood.
“Come on, lets eat. Well talk after.”
“No thanks. Ive lost my appetite.”
He hesitated, then left. Emily heard murmurs from the kitchenvoices rising, falling.
She dialed her mother.
“Mum? Its me. Can we stay a few days?”
“Of course, love. Whats wrong?”
“Ill explain later. Were coming now.”
“Alright. Ive made soupplenty for everyone.”
Emily smiled faintly. Her mother always said, “plenty for everyone.” Never counted portions.
Lucy chattered excitedly on the bus, babbling about her dolls.
“Mummy, why didnt Daddy come?” she asked as they neared the house.
“Daddys working, sweetheart. Hell visit soon.”
Claire met them at the door, beaming. She was Rachels oppositewarm, gentle, always ready with a hug.
“Ive missed you!” She scooped Lucy up. “Look how big youve grown!”
“Granny, do you have new stories?”
“Of course! Well read after dinner.”
At the table, Claire ladled soup into bowls.
“Eat up, love. Youve lost weight. Arent they feeding you?”
“They try, Mum. I just havent had much appetite.”
“You will here. Home comforts the soul.”
Home. Emily glanced aroundthe cozy kitchen, the china cabinet, family photos on the walls. Here, no one called her an outsider.
After dinner, when Lucy slept, they sat with tea.
“Tell me what happened,” Claire said, pouring.
Emily recounted the kitchen scene, the stew, Rachels words. Claire listened, shaking her head.
“How did Victor react?”
“Same as always. Said she was tired, to ignore it.”
“I see.” Claire stirred her tea. “And how do you feel?”
“Exhausted, Mum. Five years trying, and she still hates me.”
“Give me examples.”
Emily sighed.
“My cookings wrong, my cleanings wrong, how I raise Lucys wrong. When Lucy was ill last month, Rachel said I was a bad mother.”
“And Victor?”
“He stays quiet. Says shes just worried about Lucy.”
Claire set her cup down.
“Are you happy in this marriage?”
The question stunned Emily. She stared out the window at the evening lights.
“I dont know. I was. Now? I feel like a guest in my own life.”
“Why didnt you tell me sooner?”
“I thought it would pass. That shed accept me.”
“Clearly not.”
Rain tapped against the window.
“Mum, when you married Dad, how did Grandma treat you?”
Claire smiled.
“Your Grandma Mary? Called me daughter from day one. Said, Now I have two girls. Loved me more than her own daughter, sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because she saw I loved her son. And he loved me. Where theres love, theres always room.”
Emily pondered. Did Victor love her? Truly? Or was it just habit?
Her phone buzzed. Victors name flashed.
“Emily, where are you?” He sounded tense.
“At Mums. Like I said.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Dont know. Maybe Sunday.”
“Dont be daft! You have work tomorrow!”
“I called in sick.”
A pause.
“Em, stop sulking. Come home. Well talk.”
“Talk about what? Your mother treating me like dirt?”
“Oh, grow up! Mums just… Mum. She needs time.”
“Five years wasnt enough?”
“Em, dont make this harder. Were family.”
“Your family. Not mine, apparently.”
She hung up. Claire handed her a handkerchief.
