**Diary Entry**
I never thought a simple red dress could cause such a fuss. But there I was, standing in the kitchen, facing my mother-in-laws icy glare.
«Dont you dare dress like that in my house,» Evelyn hissed under her breath before the guests arrived.
«Charlotte, have you seen my reading glasses? I think I left them on the coffee table,» she called out, peering into the kitchen where I was putting the finishing touches on the salad.
«Check the case, Evelyn. I tidied the lounge earlier and put them there,» I replied without looking up, carefully arranging each slice of cucumber.
Her lips tightened, but she said nothing. In her world, no one touched her thingsnot even with good intentions. Especially not her things. But tonight wasnt the time for arguments. It was a special occasionthirty years since Evelyn had moved into this grand, high-ceilinged house with its antique furniture, passed down from her own mother-in-law. Every inch of it bore her mark, and though it technically belonged to her son, Daniel, she still ruled it like a queen.
Id only lived here two years. To Evelyn, our marriage had come as an unpleasant surpriseDaniel had brought me home after just three months of dating. I was too modern, too educated, too *something* in her eyes.
«The salads nearly done,» I said, transferring it to a platter. «Ill just change before the guests arrive.»
«Youre not wearing that red dress, are you?» Evelyn asked casually, smoothing her immaculate silver bob.
I paused, then met her gaze. «Actually, yes. Daniel chose it for our anniversary.»
«Its hardly appropriate for a family dinner,» she said crisply. «Far too… revealing. What about that lovely blue dress I gave you for Christmas?»
I exhaled slowly. That blue dressprim and schoolmarmishhad been worn exactly once, to avoid offending her. Since then, it had languished at the back of my wardrobe.
«Evelyn, at thirty-two, I think I can decide what to wear,» I said gently but firmly.
«Of course,» she replied with a strained smile. «Just remember, my friends are coming tonight. People of a certain generation. They have standards.»
Without waiting for a reply, she swept out, leaving me simmering.
Upstairs, Daniel was buttoning his crisp shirt. «All set for the grand soirée?» he asked with a grin.
«Almost,» I said, pulling out *the* dress. «Your mothers already started on my wardrobe choices.»
He sighed. «Ignore her. She just worries about appearances.»
«Her appearances or mine?» I held up the dresssleek, elegant, with a hint of daring. Nothing outrageous, but to Evelyn, it might as well have been scandalous.
«Charlotte, not tonight, alright?» He pulled me into a hug. «This means a lot to her. Thirty years in this houseits her whole life.»
«And my self-respect means a lot to *me*,» I murmured. «Im not a child to be dressed.»
He hesitated, torn between loyalty to me and his mother. Finally, he kissed my temple. «Wear what you want. Youre gorgeous in anything.»
The guests arrived at sixMargaret and her husband, old colleagues from Evelyns days at the architectural firm, followed by sharp-eyed Mrs. Whitmore from next door. The air hummed with polite conversation and clinking glasses.
In the kitchen, Evelyn cornered me. «Couldnt you have picked something more… modest?» she muttered, eyeing my neckline.
«Weve been over this,» I said evenly. «Theres nothing indecent about this dress.»
«In *my* day, family dinners didnt involve parading oneself,» she snapped, slamming down a pie dish.
My cheeks burned, but I bit back a retort. Not here, not now.
Back in the lounge, Daniel was regaling the guests with a work story. I tried to sit beside him, but Evelyn intercepted. «Charlotte, darling, fetch more bread, would you?»
The bread basket was full. Still, I noddeduntil I overheard her whisper to Margaret: «Honestly, the youth todayno sense of decorum.»
I turned on my heel and returned empty-handed. «Theres plenty of bread, Evelyn.»
Her lips thinned, but she said nothing.
Later, as I cleared plates, Mrs. Whitmore winked at me. «That red dress suits you, my dear! Like something from *Vogue*!»
Evelyn forced a smile. «Charlotte *is* stylish. Though modesty never goes out of fashion.»
Mrs. Whitmore waved a hand. «Nonsense! If I had your figure at her age, Id wear the same!»
When the tea kettle whistled, Evelyn followed me into the kitchen and shut the door. «How *dare* you humiliate me like this?» she seethed. «That dress is vulgar!»
I stepped back, stunned. «Its just a dress, Evelyn.»
«Youre mocking me!» she spat. «Proving my rules mean nothing to you!»
«Daniel loves it,» I said firmly. «Your *son* chose it.»
«Hes too soft! And you manipulate him!»
The door swung open. Daniel stood there, jaw tight. «Enough.»
Evelyn paled. «Daniel, you dont understand»
«No, *you* dont,» he said, stepping beside me. «This is *our* home. And Charlotte deserves respect.»
Silence. Then, shockingly, Evelyns rigid posture faltered. «Perhaps I… overreacted,» she muttered. «But in my day»
«Times change,» I said softly. «But kindness doesnt.»
She exhaled. «You *do* look lovely in that dress.»
The admission hung in the air, fragile as truce.
Later, as we saw off the last guest, Mrs. Whitmore squeezed Evelyns arm. «Fifty years Ive known you, and *this* is the first time Ive seen you apologize.»
Evelyn huffed, but there was no bite to it.
Back inside, Daniel and I started clearing up. Evelyn stopped us. «Leave it. Tonight was… nice. Lets not spoil it with chores.»
We stared.
«But you *never* leave dishes overnight,» Daniel said.
She smiledgenuinely, for once. «Rules are meant to be broken. Right, Charlotte?»
I smiled back. «Especially if it makes us happier.»
Daniel wrapped an arm around each of us. Three generations, one family.
Then Evelyn chuckled. «You know… I saw a dress just like yours in blue. Do you think itd suit me?»
And for the first time in years, we laughedreally laughedtogether.
