“You’re not family,” said the mother-in-law, putting the meat back in the pan.
Emma froze by the stove, a plate still in her hands. The gravy from the stew Rebecca had just made was all that remained. Piece by piece, the meat disappeared back into the pot, as if her mother-in-law was counting each one.
“Excuse me?” Emma asked, not believing what shed just heard.
“Whats not to understand?” Rebecca wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face her daughter-in-law. “We never accepted you. You pushed your way in.”
The kitchen went so quiet that the only sound was the soup bubbling on the hob. Emma set the plate down and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Her hands shook.
“Rebecca, I dont understand. Vic and I have been married five years. We have a daughter”
“So what?” Rebecca cut in. “Lilys our blood, yes. But you? Youll always be an outsider.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Victor walked in. His hair was tousled, his shirt half-unbuttonedclearly, hed been napping on the sofa after work.
“Whats going on?” he asked, glancing between his wife and mother. “Why the shouting?”
“Were not shouting,” Rebecca said calmly. “Just talking. Explaining to your wife how things work in *our* home.”
Victor frowned, looking at Emma. She stood there, pale, lips pressed together.
“Mum, what did you say?”
“The truth. That the meats not for everyone. Big family, not enough to go around.”
Emma felt a lump rise in her throat. That was it. Five years shed thought she was part of this family. Five years trying to please her mother-in-law, biting her tongue, hoping things would get better.
“Vic, Im going home,” she said quietly. “To Mums.”
“What do you mean, *home*?” Rebecca snapped. “Your home is here now. Or do you think you can come and go as you please?”
“Mum, enough.” Victor stepped toward Emma. “What happened?”
Emma stayed silent. How could she explain that his mother had just made it clear she was nothing here? That even a plate of stew was too much for her?
“Ill feed Lily and put her to bed,” she said instead. “Then Im taking her to Mums for the weekend.”
“And whys that?” Rebecca huffed. “Her grandmothers right here! Why drag the child elsewhere?”
“The grandmother who says her mother isnt family,” Emma replied softly. “Maybe the granddaughter belongs somewhere better too.”
She turned to leave. Victor grabbed her arm.
“Em, wait. Talk to me properly. Whats going on?”
Emma turned back. Her husband looked confused. Rebecca stood by the stove, pretending to stir the soup.
“Ask your mum,” Emma said. “Shell explain it better.”
In the nursery, three-year-old Lily was playing with her dolls. She beamed when Emma walked in.
“Mummy! Look, Im feeding Katie!”
“Good job, sweetheart,” Emma crouched to hug her. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes! Granny said were having stew tonight!”
“We are, love. But were going to eat with Granny Sarah instead.”
“Mummys mummy? Yay! Is Daddy coming?”
“No, Daddys staying home.”
Emma started packing Lilys thingsdresses, tights, toys, enough for a few days. As she folded a jumper, Victor appeared in the doorway.
“Em, this is ridiculous. Leaving over something so small.”
“*Small*?” Emma straightened up. “Your mother just told me Im not family. Took food off my plate. Thats small to you?”
“Mum says things! You know how she gets. Shell forget by tomorrow.”
“*I* wont forget, Vic. This isnt the first time.”
“Oh, come on! Shes just tired. Stressed at work, took it out on you.”
Emma laughed, but it was bitter.
“Tired, is she? Five years of being tired. Always taking it out on me.”
“Then ignore her!”
“Ignore being called a stranger in my own home? Vic, listen to yourself!”
Victor rubbed the back of his necka habit when he was stuck.
“Em, where will you go? Were family. Weve got Lily.”
“Thats *why* Im leaving. I wont have her hearing her mum being treated like this.”
“Whos treating you badly? Mum just spoke her mind.”
“Spoke her *mind*?” Emma stared at him. “Vic, she *took food from me*! Said I dont belong! Thats an opinion?”
“Maybe harsh, butlook, she raised us alone after Dad died. Had to control everything.”
“So I just live with that forever?”
Victor sat on the bed, taking her hands.
“Em, dont fight. Ill talk to her, okay?”
“And say what? That Im human? That I have feelings?”
“Yeah. Ill tell her to back off.”
Emma shook her head.
“Vic, its not about rudeness. She doesnt *want* me here. You know that.”
“She just needs time”
“*Five years* wasnt enough?”
From the kitchen, Rebecca called:
“Victor! Dinners getting cold!”
He stood.
“Come on, lets eat. Well talk later.”
“No thanks. Ive lost my appetite.”
He hesitated, then left. Emma heard murmurs from the kitchenvoices rising, falling.
She dialled her mums number.
“Mum? Its me. Can we stay a few days?”
“Of course, love. Whats wrong?”
“Ill explain later. Were on our way.”
“Alright. Ive made a roastenough for everyone.”
Emma smiled. Mum always said that. Never counted portions.
Lily chattered the whole bus ride about her dolls and tomorrows plans.
“Mum, why isnt Daddy coming?” she asked as they reached the house.
“Daddys working, sweetheart. Hell visit.”
Sarah met them at the door, beaming. Warm, kindeverything Rebecca wasnt.
“My girls!” She scooped Lily up. “Look how big youve got!”
“Granny, do you have new stories?”
“Loads! After dinner, eh?”
At the table, Sarah piled roast beef onto plates.
“Eat up. Emma, youre skin and bones!”
“Im fine, Mum.”
“Youre home now. Home fixes everything.”
*Home*. Emma looked aroundthe cosy kitchen with gingham curtains, the china cabinet, family photos. Here, no one called her an outsider.
Later, with Lily asleep, they sipped tea at the table.
“Tell me what happened,” Sarah said.
Emma didthe words, the meal, the meaning behind it. Sarah listened quietly.
“And Victor?”
“Same as ever. Said shes stressed, to let it go.”
“I see.” Sarah stirred her tea. “How do *you* feel?”
“Tired, Mum. So tired. Five years trying, and she still hates me.”
“Give me examples.”
Emma sighed.
“Never cook right, never clean right. When Lily was poorly last month? She said I was a rubbish mother.”
“And Victor?”
“He says nothing. Or that she worries about Lily.”
Sarah set her cup down.
“Love, are you happy in this marriage?”
The question stunned her. Emma watched the evening lights outside.
“I dont know. I was. Now? Im a guest in my own life.”
“Why didnt you tell me before?”
“I thought itd get better. That shed accept me.”
“Hasnt worked, has it?”
Rain tapped the window as they sipped in silence.
“Mum, when you married Dad how did Grandma take it?”
Sarah smiled.
“Your Nana Mary? Called me daughter from day one. Said shed got two girls thenme and your Auntie Joan.”
“Why?”
“Because she saw I loved her son. And he loved me. Love makes room.”
Emma thought. Did Victor love her? Truly?
Her phone rang. Victors name flashed.
“Em, where are you?” He sounded tense.
“At Mums. Like I said.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Dont know. Maybe Sunday.”
“What? Youve got work!”
“I called in sick.”
A pause.
“Emma, stop this. Come home. Well talk.”
“Talk about *what*? Your mum treating me like dirt?”
“Dont exaggerate! Shes just herself. Needs time.”
“*Five years* wasnt enough?”
“Em, dont make this harder.
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