Youre no kin of ours, said the mother-in-law, scooping the meat from her daughter-in-laws plate back into the pot.
Margaret stood frozen by the stove, the empty plate still in her hands. The gravy from the stew Edith had just cooked clung to the porcelain. Piece by piece, the meat vanished into the pot, as if her mother-in-law were counting each morsel.
Pardon? Margaret asked, unable to believe her ears.
Whats unclear? Edith wiped her hands on her apron and turned to her. We never took you into this family. You pushed your way in.
The kitchen fell so quiet that the bubbling of soup on the hob was the only sound. Margaret set the plate down on the table and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her hands trembled.
Edith, I dont understand. Victor and I have been married five years! We have a daughter
And what of it? the older woman interrupted. Lilys our blood, thats true. But youll always be an outsider.
The kitchen door swung open, and Victor walked in. His hair was tousled, his shirt unbuttonedclearly, hed been dozing on the sofa after work.
Whats going on? He glanced between his wife and mother. Why the shouting?
We werent shouting, Edith replied smoothly. Just talking. Explaining to your wife how things are done in this house.
Victor frowned and looked at Margaret. She stood pale-faced, lips pressed tight.
Mum, what did you say?
The truth. That the meats not for everyone. Familys large, portions small.
Margaret felt a lump rise in her throat. So that was it. Five years shed believed herself part of this family. Five years of bending over backward for her mother-in-law, enduring her barbs, hoping time would soften things.
Victor, Im going home, she said softly. To Mums.
What do you mean, *home*? Edith snapped. This is your home now. Or do you think you can come and go as you please?
Mum, enough. Victor stepped toward Margaret. What happened?
Margaret stayed silent. How could she explain that his mother had just made it clearshe was nothing here? That even a plate of stew was too much to spare for her?
Ill pack Lilys things, she said instead. Well stay with Mum for the weekend.
Whatever for? Edith bristled. Her grandmothers right here. Why drag the child about?
Her grandmother thinks her mother isnt family, Margaret murmured. Perhaps Lily deserves better company.
She turned to leave the kitchen, but Victor caught her wrist.
Meg, wait! Explain properly. Whats happened?
Margaret turned back. Her husband stared at her, bewildered, while Edith stood by the stove, pretending to stir the soup.
Ask your mother, Margaret said. Shell tell it better.
In the nursery, three-year-old Lily was playing with her dolls. She brightened when her mother entered.
Mummy! Look, Im feeding Rosie!
Good girl, darling. Margaret knelt and hugged her. Are you hungry?
Yes! Granny said were having stew tonight.
We are, sweetheart. Only, were going to have it at Grandmas instead.
Grandma Jeans? Lily beamed. Yay! Is Daddy coming?
No, Daddys staying home.
Margaret began packing Lilys bagdresses, socks, toys, enough for a few days. As she folded a jumper, Victor appeared in the doorway.
Meg, this is ridiculous. Youre leaving over nothing.
Ridiculous? Margaret straightened. Your mother told me Im not family! Took food from my plate! Is that *nothing*?
She says things in the heat of the moment. Shell forget by tomorrow.
*I* wont forget, Victor! This isnt the first time.
Oh, come off it! Mums just tired. Had a rough day at work, took it out on you.
Margaret laughed, the sound bitter.
Tired, is she? Five years of tiredness, all aimed at me?
Just ignore her!
Ignore being called a stranger in my own home? Do you hear yourself?
Victor rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar gesture when he was lost for words.
Meg, where will you go? Were a family. Weve a child.
Thats why Im leaving. I wont have Lily hear her mother belittled.
Whos belittling you? Mum just spoke her mind.
Spoke her mind? Margaret stopped packing. Victor, she took food from me. Said I dont belong! Thats her *mind*?
Wellmaybe it was harsh. But she raised us alone after Dad died. Had to keep control.
And Im to endure that control forever?
Victor sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands.
Meg, lets not fight. Ill talk to her, make her see sense.
What sense? That Im human? That I have feelings?
Exactly. Ill tell her to mind her tongue.
Margaret shook her head.
Victor, its not about her tongue. Its that shell never accept me. And you know it.
She just needs time
Five years isnt enough? How much longer?
From the kitchen, Ediths voice rang out:
Victor! Dinners ready!
He stood.
Come on, lets eat. Well talk after.
No, thank you. Ive lost my appetite.
Victor hesitated, then left. Margaret heard murmurs from the kitchenvoices rising, then fading.
She dialled her mother.
Mum? Its me. Can we stay with you a few days?
Of course, love. Whats happened?
Later. Were leaving now.
All right. Ive made stewplenty to go round.
Margaret smiled faintly. Her mother always said that. Never counted portions, never measured love.
Lily chattered happily on the bus about her dolls and plans for tomorrow.
Mummy, why didnt Daddy come? she asked as they neared Grandmas.
Daddys working, sweetheart. Hell visit soon.
Jean met them at the door with a warm smile. She was everything Edith wasntgentle, kind, always ready to help.
Oh, Ive missed you! She scooped Lily up. My darling, how youve grown!
Grandma, do you have new stories?
Lots! Well read after supper.
At the table, Jean ladled stew into generous bowls.
Eat up, both of you. Margaret, youre too thin. Arent they feeding you?
They are, Mum. Just havent had much appetite.
Well, youll find it here. Homes where the heart is.
*Home.* Margaret looked aroundthe cozy kitchen with gingham curtains, the old china cabinet, photos on the walls. Here, no one called her an outsider.
After supper, with Lily asleep, the women sat with tea.
Tell me what happened, Jean said.
Margaret recounted the days eventsthe stew, Ediths words. Jean listened quietly, nodding now and then.
And Victor?
Same as always. Said she was tired, that I should let it go.
Jean stirred her tea.
And how do you feel?
Exhausted, Mum. Five years of trying, and she still wont accept me.
Give me examples.
Margaret sighed.
The way I cook, the way I clean, how I raise Lily. When she was ill last month, Edith told me I was a bad mother.
And Victor?
He stays quiet. Or says shes just worried for Lily.
Jean set her cup down.
Margaret, are you happy in this marriage?
The question caught her off guard. She gazed out at the evening lights.
I dont know. I was. Now… I feel like a guest in my own family.
Why didnt you tell me sooner?
I thought it would pass. That Edith would soften.
Seems she hasnt.
They sipped their tea in silence. Rain tapped at the window.
Mum, when you married Dad, how did Grandma take to you?
Jean smiled.
Your Grandma Mary? Called me daughter from the start. Said shed gained a second one. Treated me better than her own sister, truth be told.
Why?
Because she saw I loved her son. And he loved me. Where theres love, theres room for everyone.
Margaret pondered. Did Victor love her? Truly? Or had they just grown comfortable?
The phone rang. Victors name flashed on the screen.
Margaret, where are you? He sounded tense.
At Mums. I told you.
When are you coming back?
I dont know. Maybe Sunday.
What do you mean? Youve work tomorrow.
Ive taken leave. Said I was ill.
A pause.
Margaret, stop this. Come home. Well talk properly.
About what, Victor? That your mother doesnt see me as human?
Dont be dramatic! Mums just… Mum. She needs time.
Five years wasnt enough?
Margaret, dont make this harder. Family sticks together.
*Your* family does. Mine, it seems, doesnt exist.
She hung up. Jean silently passed her a handkerchief.
Cry if you need to, love.
But the tears wouldnt come. Only emptinessand a strange relief, as if a weight had lifted.
The next morning, Jean went to the market. Margaret stayed with Lily, playing, reading, moulding clay. The child thrivedhere, Grandma never scolded or corrected.
Mummy, why arent we at home? Lily asked at lunch.
Were visiting Grandma.
Will we stay long?
Im not sure.
Will Daddy come?
Margaret studied her daughter. So young, yet sensing something amiss.
Daddys working. But he loves us.
Does Granny love us?
Margaret exhaled.
She loves *you*. Youre her granddaughter.
Does she love you?
Margaret hesitated. How to explain adult cruelty to a three-year-old?
Lets play hide-and-seek, she deflected.
Lily clapped and dashed off.
That evening, Victor called again.
Meg, Mum wants to apologise.
Does she?
Yes. She sees she was wrong.
What exactly does she see?
Well… that it wasnt fair. That you *are* family.
Margaret shook her head.
Victor, shes apologising because you made her. Not because she means it.
What does it matter? Shes willing.
It matters. It means this will happen again.
It wont. Ive spoken to her.
What did you say?
Victor hesitated.
That youre my wife. And she must respect you.
Must? By order?
Margaret, Im on your side!
Then why wait five years? Why let her belittle me?
I didnt
You did, Victor! By silence, you did!
Ediths voice carried in the background:
Tell her I made soup! Her favourite, with dumplings!
Margaret closed her eyes. Even now, her mother-in-law couldnt simply apologise. Had to emphasise her false care.
Victor, I need time.
Time for what? Come home.
I cant live like this anymore.
Like what?
In a house where Im not respected. Where Lily learns tension is normal.
Margaret, what are you saying?
That I need to think. About us. Our future.
Silence. Then:
Are you leaving me?
I dont know. Maybe.
Because of Mum?
No. Because of *you*. Because you never once stood up for me. Not in five years.
She hung up and turned off her phone. Her hands shook, but her mind was clearer.
Jean returned with armfuls of shopping.
Help me unpack. Extra mincewell make meatballs. Lilys favourite.
Margaret wordlessly assisted. There was plentyenough for all, with leftovers.
Mum, what matters most in a family?
Jean pondered.
Love, I suppose. And respect. Without those, its not a family.
And if ones missing?
Then its just endurance.
Margaret nodded. Her mother had a way of simplifying truth.
That night, they watched cartoons with Lily nestled between them. Warmth. Peace.
Mummy, are we going home tomorrow? Lily asked sleepily.
Perhaps. Do you want to?
Not really. Its nicer here.
Children sensed more than adults realised.
The next morning, a knock woke Margaret. Victor stood on the doorstep, flowers in hand.
Hi, he said awkwardly. Can I come in?
Jean ushered him inside to put the kettle on. Lily bounded to him.
Daddy! You came!
Of course, princess. Missed you.
Victor sat beside Margaret.
Meg, Ive been thinking. Youre right. I shouldve defended you.
And now?
Now things change. I promise.
How?
He pulled keys from his pocket.
Ive rented us a flat. Just for a month, to start. Well live separately.
Margaret stared.
Truly?
Truly. Mum objected, but I insisted. Told her my family comes first.
What did she say?
Plenty. None of it matters now.
Margaret took the keys. Small, ordinaryyet they meant freedom. A chance to build a life without interference.
Victor, what if it doesnt work? If we cant afford it?
It will. Ill take extra shifts.
Jean brought in tea.
Toast, Victor?
Thank you, Jean.
As she set the tableequal portions, no favouritesshe smiled.
Well then. Shall we celebrate your new home?
Margaret looked at her husband, her mother, her daughter happily buttering bread.
Yes, she said. We shall.
Tomorrow, theyd see the flat. Theirs, if only rentedwhere no one counted portions, or divided hearts.
Where thered always be room at the table.
