**Half the Kingdom for a Grandchild**
«Well, are you pregnant yet?»
«No, Lydia Matthews, not yet,» sighed Lisa, rolling her eyes and keeping the irritation from her voice.
«Oh, for heavens sake!» her mother-in-law huffed. «You two need to get a move on. Times ticking! Ill send you a videovery educational.»
«Uh-huh. Thanks,» Lisa muttered, already dreading another lecture on the «miracle of life.»
The call ended. The knife clattered loudly against the chopping board as Lisa attacked the cucumbers with twice her usual vigour. Venting frustration, one slice at a time.
Lately, Sergeis mother didnt even bother with pleasantriesjust launched straight into *the* question, winding Lisa up something rotten. But it hadnt always been like this.
Once upon a time, Lisa and Lydia had got on rather well. She rarely interfered, called once or twice a week, visited even less. The odd favoura lift with the shopping or a trip to Grandmas cottagewas repaid with homemade jam, grapes from the garden, or cherries from the tree.
Then everything changed. All because of Lydias mother, Margaret.
Even her own daughter joked that Margaret was a general in a skirt. A former schoolteacher, impossibly strict, she ruled the family with an iron fist. Lisa had been luckyby the time she and Sergei got together, Margaret hardly left her flat. Age had caught up with her.
But one day, Grandma Margaret paid a visit. And once was more than enough for Lisa.
«What on earth is this slop? You might as well feed it to chickens!» Margaret sniffed, peering into the simmering pot. «Move over, Ill show you how to make a proper *base*.»
In Lisas family, soup was made without frying onions firsthealthier, fewer calories. Sergei had a bit of a waistline, and while Lisa wasnt policing his diet, she wasnt about to pile on the pounds for him either.
«Margaret, really, its fine. Tastes good like this,» Lisa protested.
«Oh, you young people. No idea what proper cooking is, too busy with your takeaways,» Margaret grumbled but sat down.
It mightve ended there, but then Lisas phone rang. She slipped into the next room for privacy, only to return to the sizzle of onions in the pan. Lips pursed, she shot Margaret a look.
«Why did you do that? We like it plain.»
«Youve never had it done properly. Try ityoull never go back,» Margaret declared, smug as you please.
Lisa bit back a sigh. She *could* have dramatically poured the soup down the loo, but that seemed a bit much. Margaret wasnt a regular guest. For Sergeis sake, she could let it slide.
But Margaret found a way to meddle from afar.
At a family gathering, she suddenly announced:
«Ive decided. My entire estate goes to whoever gives me a great-grandchild first. I want to see the family line continue before I pop my clogs.»
Sergei relayed this with a chuckle. Lisa just smiled. As if theyd rearrange their lives for someone elses whim.
They had *plans*. First, careers. Then, a home. *Then* children. Lydia, funnily enough, had once wholeheartedly agreedno need to rush.
Now they were on step two, chipping away at the mortgage. Lisas calculations said one more year. A year where anything could happen. To Lydia, suddenly, it was «only a year.»
«Lizzie, darling,» she cooed one day. «Why not hurry things along? Youll get the inheritance *and* a babytwo birds, one stone!»
Lisa nearly choked. Since when did anyone dictate her reproductive schedule? Even her own mother knew better.
«Lydia, were still sorting the mortgage.»
«Oh, its just a year! By the time youre due, youll have it sorted.»
«People in 2019 thought that too, and thenwell, you remember. No, we want stability first.»
«Even if the mortgage falls through, theres Grandmas flat! The cottage! Her jewellery boxsolid gold, a *fortune*.»
«We wont be rushed. If it happens, great. If not… well, cest la vie.»
«Suit yourself. Just rememberSergeis got two cousins. Theyll beat you to it while youre dilly-dallying.»
From then on, these chats became routine. Lisas patience wore thin. She tried explaining, asking nicely, downright pleadingnothing worked.
«Just humour her,» Sergei said once. «Shell drop it eventually.»
Easier said than done. Lydia took silence as agreement and doubled downforwarding «expert» videos, showing off friends grandkids, even gifting «romantic» scented candles.
For Lisas birthday, Lydia brought a pram. «Youll need it soon!» she beamed. It was top-of-the-range, but Lisa hated feeling like a pawn in some bizarre game where her body was the prize.
Every visit included commentary like:
«Vickys marriage is on the rocks, and Katies still trying. Youve still got a shot!»
As if life were a spectator sport. Lisa felt less like a person and more like a racehorse in some deranged derby.
She gritted her teeth. For family peace. Nearly snapped and suggested Lydia have the baby herselfuntil salvation came.
«Katies pregnant,» Lydia announced, glum.
Lisa barely stopped herself from shouting «thank God.»
«Well, its not a done deal, so you two should stillyou know. Just in case.»
That «just in case» never came. Katie had the baby, Lisa breathed easy, and it seemed the madness was overuntil…
«My familys grown,» Margaret declared at the next gathering, eyeing them all. «Plenty to look after me now. Whoever does… gets the lot.»
Jaws dropped. Katies husband choked on his pie. Lydia, however, perked right up.
«But you said itd go to us,» Katie whispered.
«Did I?» Margaret arched a brow. «Think popping out a baby means youve won the lottery? Anyone thought about *me*? I cant even walk to the shops anymore!»
Lisa smirked. So much for half the kingdom.
After that, the pilgrimage began. Aunts, uncles, Lydiaeven Katie with the babyall suddenly tripping over themselves to help.
Lisa and Sergei sat this race out too. They lived their lives, in their flat, on their terms. And *that* felt like winning. Because you could spend your life chasing carrotsor just grow your own.
