Not yet grownup, she shouted.
You’re holding him wrong!
The scream cut through the crisp air, sharp and sudden. Emma didnt flinch. Over the past months shed grown accustomed to that voiceher exmotherinlaw, always appearing at the worst possible moment.
Emma turned slowly, clutching her son to her chest. Eightmonthold Jack cooed softly on her shoulder, swaddled in a warm onesie. The park was nearly empty on a weekday, only a few hurried walkers bundled in coats.
Good afternoon, Dorothy, Emma said coolly.
Dorothy brushed off the greeting as if swatting away a fly. Her cheeks were flushed with irritation and the chill. She stepped closer, lips pressed together, eyes fixed on the baby.
What are you doing? Dorothys tone rang with outrage. Do you realize what youre doing? Its freezing outside! My grandson is barely dressed! Hell catch a cold. Do you want him to fall ill?
Emma glanced at Jack. He wore a snug jumpsuit, a knitted hat, and a scarfperfect for the weather.
Its only eight degrees, Dorothy. Hes dressed appropriately.
Appropriately? Dorothy moved another step forward. Do you even know how a child should be held? Youre spoiling his posture; hell grow all hunched. And look how thin he is! Are you starving him?
Emma clenched her jaw. Jack was healthy; the paediatrician praised his development at every checkup. Yet Dorothy pressed on.
Your endless walks! Twohour strolls in that wind! Are you tormenting him? He needs warmth and rest, not a gale in his face!
Emma shifted Jack to her other arm. The baby stirred, opened his eyes, then drifted back to sleep.
Dorothy, can we please
Please what? Dorothy snapped. Lets keep going! You have no idea how to raise a child! Ive brought up three of my own, and you? This is your first baby and you think you know better than anyone!
A hot knot tightened in Emmas chest. The barrage of accusations was painfully familiar. Each visit from her former motherinlaw felt like an interrogation, each encounter a trial.
And you know what? Dorothy stepped even closer, eyes flashing. Its all your fault! You shattered the family! My son was happy until you turned his life into a circus! You drove him out, left the child fatherlesseverything is because of you!
Emma froze. The words echoed in her mind. Was she truly to blame for the breakup?
We should be going, Emma murmured, turning away.
Youre running from me? Dorothy shouted after her. Your eyes are full of lies! Youve ruined my sons lifeand his sons too!
Emma quickened her pace, the park fading behind her, the accusations fading with each step. Jack squirmed but didnt wake. Dorothys shouts grew distant until they vanished altogether. Only then did Emma sigh, trembling hands, her heart pounding in her throat. How could Dorothy dare to claim the blame?
Memories rushed back: that night, the flat, the door Emma opened an hour early. Simonher soontobeexhusbandand another woman in their bedroom.
Emma didnt scream or weep. She simply began packing Simons things. He stammered excuses, babbling about mistakes that meant nothing. Emma pointed to the door. Three days later she filed for divorce.
Two weeks later she discovered she was pregnant and told Simon, who was still her husband at the time.
Dorothy burst in that evening, pounding on the door until Emma opened.
Cancel the divorce! Dorothy shrieked, standing in the hallway. What are you doing? Youre pregnant! The child needs both parents! You must forgive my son! Youre not in the right situation, my dear!
Emma leaned against the wall, exhausted.
He made a mistake. Men do sometimes. But youre a womanyou must forgive, think of the family, think of the child!
What child? Emma asked softly. The one wholl be ashamed of his father?
Shame? Dorothy hissed. You should be ashamed! Youre destroying a family out of pride and selfishness! Imagine the boy growing up without a fatherwhat a scandal!
Emma closed her eyes.
Dorothy, please leave, she said quietly.
I wont go! Dorothy stomped. I wont leave until you see sense! Youre just being stubborn, ruining our childs future!
Emma never withdrew the divorce. The court stamp soon made her legally separate from Simon, and Jack was borna small, warm bundle, solely hers.
She never claimed child support, never listed Simon as the father. He made it clear he didnt want the child. Emma worked from home, earning a good wage. Her mother helped when she needed a break. She asked nothing from Simons familyno money, no visits. He never phoned to ask how the baby was, never even inquired whether it was a boy or a girl. It was obvious from the start that he was indifferent.
Dorothy, however, hovered everywhere. She turned up at the hospital for the discharge, uninvited, with a massive bouquet.
What did you name him? she asked as Emma emerged with the newborn.
Jack, Emma replied.
Dorothys face twisted.
Jack? Why not Colin, after my father? I told you what I wanted!
You said so, Dorothy, but hes my son and I chose the name.
Dorothy clenched her jaw but said nothing.
Soon she was visiting five times a week, unannounced, demanding entry to see her grandson. She offered endless advicehow to feed, swaddle, bathe, put him to sleep, hold him, and take walks. Emma endured it, nodding politely while doing things her own way.
One day she finally snapped.
Dorothy, thats enough! Emma shouted as her motherinlaw began another tirade about the formula. Stop telling me what to do! This is my child, and I know how to care for him!
Dorothys face went from pallor to a deep red.
Are you shouting at me? she demanded.
Yes, I am! Emma met her gaze. I cant take it any longer. You come here every day and poison me with criticism and accusations! Im fed up!
Dorothy turned and stalked out, stomping loudly. After that she came less oftentwice a weekbut each visit still felt like torture.
Now there was no peace even on the streets.
Emma climbed the stairs to her flat, the house quiet and warm. She laid Jack in his cot, shed her coat, and sank onto the sofa. Dorothys words still rang in her ears: You destroyed the family. Was it really Dorothy who tore everything apart, or Simon, who walked out and abandoned his responsibilities? Emma had simply wanted to keep her baby, to raise him. What was so wrong with that?
Jack breathed softly in his crib. Emma adjusted his blanket, and the baby smiled in his sleep.
This is right, she told herself. Its how it should be.
Two weeks passed in calm. Dorothy didnt appear, didnt call. Emma began to hope the nightmare was finally over.
Then, on a Saturday morning, a sharp knock rattled the door. Emma opened it to find Dorothy standing there.
Good afternoon, Dorothy said breezily, slipping past Emma into the flat.
Emma froze, unable to answer. Dorothy headed straight to the nursery where Jack was playing on his mat, bent down, and cooed.
My little grandson! My sweet bunny!
Emma followed, arms crossed.
Dorothy, whats happening?
Dorothy turned, a bright smile on her face.
Tomorrow there will be a christening! Ive arranged everythingchurch, godparents, the whole lot!
Emma stared at her, stunned.
What?
The christening, tomorrow at two oclock. I chose a lovely parish, found excellent godparents. Everythings set.
Emma stepped forward.
You cant decide when my sons christening will be!
Dorothy straightened, her smile hardening.
I can. Who else should decide? You, little girl?
Im his mother! Emma retorted, her voice shaking.
You? Youre young and foolish! You know nothing. I have experience, I know whats right! You must obey me, because you wont raise a child properly on your own! Youre not grown yet.
Something inside Emma ignited, a blaze of anger. All the months of hurt, humiliation, and insult surged together.
You have no right to be here! Emma shouted. Not a single reason!
Dorothy took a step back.
How can that be? Hes my grandson!
Not legally! Emma replied, stepping closer. On his birth certificate the fathers name is blank. Officially he has no father, so you have no grandson! Until that changes, stay out of his life!
Dorothys face turned ashen, her lips trembling.
You youre evicting me?
Yes, Emma said firmly. Leave.
Dorothy grabbed her bag and fled the flat. Jack let out a wail; Emma scooped him up, pressing him close.
Everythings alright, love, she whispered. Everythings alright.
A week of quiet passed.
Then the doorbell rang again. Emma opened it to find two people: Dorothy and Simon, looking tired and irritable. Dorothy clutched Simons elbow, as if fearing he might bolt.
Hello, Emma, Simon grumbled, avoiding eye contact.
Dorothy shoved Simon forward into the flat. Emma couldnt stop them. Dorothy dragged him into the nursery.
Look! she cried, pointing at Jack. Hes your son! You must legally become his father! Youre obligated!
Simon glanced at the child, then looked away.
Emma leaned against the doorframe, watching Simons stubborn expression. She knew what she had to do.
Then Ill apply for child support, Emma said evenly.
Simon flinched, turning sharply toward her.
What?
Child support, Emma repeated. You earn a good salary, Simon. The court will grant a fair amount.
Simons face twisted.
I dont want this child, he spat. Enough, Mum! Leave me alone! Im not responsible for anyone!
He turned and stormed out of the flat. Dorothy chased after him.
Simon! Simon, wait! she shouted. Because of you I cant see my grandson!
I dont care! his voice echoed from the hallway. I dont care about you or this child!
Emma shut the door, turned to Jack, who reached for her hands. She lifted him, holding him close. A small smile curved her lips. Her plan had worked; Simon had no desire to be involved, and Dorothy was finally gone.
At last she could breathe.
She realized that the true strength lay not in winning battles against others, but in trusting herself to protect what mattered most. In the end, love and perseverance were enough to shield a child from the storm of misguided opinions.
