We dont want you at the wedding, my own children told me.
Mum, for goodness sake, the plates are clean enough! Emily sighed, watching her mother scrub the same china for the fourth time.
What if the guests notice water spots? Margaret squinted, holding a plate up to the light. Its a weddingeverything has to be perfect.
Honestly, Mum, no ones going to inspect the dishes! Theyll be too busy staring at the bride and groom. Youve been fussing in here for hours. Emily moved closer, reaching out to embrace her, but Margaret stepped away.
Dont distract me, love. The salads arent finished, the cake still needs icing. Theres no time.
Emily shook her head and left the kitchen. In the living room, her fiancé, James, waited nervously, adjusting his tie.
Your mums sure she can handle this, right? he whispered. Maybe we shouldve booked a restaurant.
Too late nowall the guests are coming here. She insisted. Said restaurants lack heart. Emily took his hand, squeezing it gently. Just give her a chance. Shes trying her best.
James nodded, though doubt flickered in his eyes. Margaret had spent three months preparingstudying recipes, shopping for ingredients, agonizing over every detail. At first, Emily had been touched by her dedication. But lately, her mothers obsession had turned brittle, her patience worn thin.
Emily! Margaret called from the kitchen. Come taste the salad!
The bride obeyed, stepping inside to find her mother clutching a spoon.
Does it need more salt? I cant tell.
Mum, its fine. Youve asked me ten times already!
Well, pardon me for caring! Margaret turned away sharply, staring out the window. I just want everything to be perfect. I wont have James parents thinking were that we dont measure up.
Emily rested a hand on her mothers shoulder.
Whats gotten into you? His parents are lovely people. Theyre not judging how much mayonnaise youve used.
Arent they? Margaret spun around. Did you hear what his mother said on the phone yesterday? Oh, we always had smoked salmon at home. Smoked salmon! And here I am with egg sandwiches and crisps!
Mum, she didnt mean anything by it. She was just reminiscing.
Dont be naive! I hear the whispers. Margaret lives modestly, doesnt she? Should I be ashamed? I raised you alone after your father left when you were three. I did my best!
Emily fell silent. The old wound still ached, and now, with the wedding looming, her mothers insecurities had resurfaced.
No ones judging you. Everyone knows how hard youve worked.
Do they? Margaret scoffed bitterly. James parents have a three-storey house, new cars. What do I have? A terraced home and a homemade buffet.
I dont care about their house! Emilys voice rose. Im marrying James, not his parents!
Footsteps interrupted them as James appeared in the doorway.
Everything alright?
Fine, just fine, Margaret said quickly, wiping her hands on her apron. Just finalising the menu. Nearly all done.
James glanced around. Platters of sandwiches, salads, and cold meats covered the table. The oven hummed, filling the air with the scent of roasting meat.
Margaret, this is incredible. Honestly, my parents will be blown away.
Oh, stop. She flushed, though the praise clearly pleased her.
No, really. I prefer home cookingrestaurants never taste like this. You can tell its made with love.
For the first time all day, Margaret smiled.
James, dear, would you like tea? Or coffee? Ill put the kettle on.
Mum, guests arrive in an hour, Emily reminded her. You still need to change.
Oh, goodnessI forgot! Margaret gasped. My dress isnt pressed, my hairs a mess
Go shower. Ill finish up here. Emily took the apron from her.
Dont touch the cake! Margaret called from the hall. Ill decorate it myself!
James wrapped an arm around Emilys waist.
Shes really anxious. Should we step in?
She wont let us. She needs to control everythingworried well mess it up. Emily leaned into him. I get it. She wants to impress your parents.
Why? This wedding isnt for them.
Try telling her that. Shes spent her whole life proving shes enough.
James thought for a moment.
You know what? Ill ask James parents to compliment her cooking. Make a point of saying how much better home-cooked food is.
Would you?
Of course. Look how hard shes worked. She deserves to hear it.
Emily kissed his cheek.
Thank you. Itll mean the world to her.
Half an hour later, Margaret emerged in a lavender dress, her hair neatly styled, lipstick carefully applied.
How do I look?
Stunning! James grinned. Right, Em?
Absolutely beautiful, Mum. Emily hugged her. The perfect mother-of-the-bride.
Margaret smoothed her dress, flustered but pleased.
Oh, the cake! I forgot the final touches!
Mum, guests are already buzzing the door. Emily peeked out the window. Leave itits gorgeous as is.
But the icing swirls
Margaret, trust me, its perfect, James cut in. Go greet everyone. Well handle the rest.
James parents arrived first. Eleanor, elegant in a tailored suit, surveyed the room. Margaret stiffened, awaiting judgment.
How cosy! Eleanor smiled. You can tell a family lives herefull of warmth.
Margaret relaxed slightly. Please, make yourselves at home.
As guests trickled infriends, neighbours, distant relativesthe house buzzed with laughter. Margaret darted between the kitchen and living room, refilling platters, ensuring no glass went empty.
Margaret, join us! James father, Richard, beckoned. Youre the hostesswe barely see you!
Oh, I couldnttheres too much to do
Nonsense! Sit. He patted the chair beside him. Lets chat properly.
Margaret perched nervously on the edge.
Did you make this potato salad yourself? Eleanor asked, sampling a bite.
Yes, though its nothing special
Its divine! You must give me the recipe.
Margaret blinked, cheeks pinkening.
The sandwiches too! one of Emilys friends chimed in. Mrs. Thompson, these are amazing!
Quite right, Richard agreed. My wife mostly serves ready meals. Thisyou can taste the effort.
Margarets tension melted. Soon, she was sharing tips, laughing at stories, basking in the unexpected praise.
Shes a different person, Emily whispered to James.
She just needed to feel valued, he murmured back. Look at her.
After toasts and well-wishes, guests lingered, some smoking on the patio, others chatting in the kitchen. Margaret, finally unwinding, sipped her wine.
Eleanor approached her.
Margaret, I wanted to say youve raised a wonderful daughter. James adores herits clear she was brought up with love.
Margarets eyes glistened. Thank you. It wasnt easy, but I tried my best.
And it shows. Shes kind, capable. Any mother-in-law would be lucky.
Margaret ducked her head, touched.
And youre a brilliant cook! Ive eaten so much, my dress might split! Eleanor laughed.
Oh, have more! I made plentytry the roast beef, or the honey-glazed ham
By nights end, as the last guests departed, the little trio collapsed in the living room. Margaret kicked off her shoes with a sigh.
Well, Mum? Emily curled beside her. Happy?
Margaret gazed at her daughter and future son-in-law, her heart full. The worries had been for nothing.
You were right, love. James parentstheyre just people. Kind ones.
James kissed her hand. Thank you, Margaret. Mums already stolen three of your recipes.
She laughed. Theyre nothing special.
They are, he said softly. Because theyre made with love.
Margaret hugged them both.
Be happy, my dears. And rememberIm always here.
We know, Mum. Emily squeezed her tight. Thank you. For everything.
As they retreated to bed, Margaret stood in the kitchen, washing dishes with quiet contentment. All her fearsof not being enough, of falling shorthad dissolved.
The truth was simple: love mattered more than lavishness. And tonight, surrounded by warmth, shed finally believed it.
Tomorrow, Emily would start a new chapter. But Margarets role wasnt endingit was growing. Not just a mother now, but a mother-in-law.
And that, she thought, scrubbing a wine glass with a smile, was a title shed wear with pride.
