29November
The phone jolted me awake. On the screen flashed Anne Stevenson. It was the third call shed made that morning. I took a deep breath, gathered what little patience I could, and pressed the green button.
Yes, Anne, Im listening.
Emily, why arent you answering? her voice was edged with reproach. I keep calling!
I was making porridge for Emily, my hands were busy I lied. In truth I simply didnt want to hear another lecture about how badly I was raising our child.
Those porridge fixes again! I told you children need meat. My son Stephen grew up on steak, look how sturdy he is! And your Emily is so pale, shell be blown away by a gust of wind.
I closed my eyes and counted to five. Our daughter is only three; the paediatrician says she is developing normally. Her slight build is simply the side of the family shes inherited from Stephens father.
Anne, we do give her meat as well. Todays lunch will be meatballs.
Good! Thats why Im calling. Ill drop by later with some chicken broth, bonerich just as Stephen likes it, and Ill make my special cutlets, not those
The word cutlets felt like a thinly veiled sarcasm, as if I were offering poison to a child.
No need to worry, we have everything, I tried to reassure her.
Whats there to worry about? Grandmother wants to see her grandchild! You wont refuse, will you?
Her question left no room for a negative answer without sounding monstrous.
Of course, youre welcome.
When the call ended I rested my forehead against the cool window pane. Outside, the first lazy snowflakes drifted down, settling on the naked branches. November had turned bleak and damp.
Mum, who were you talking to? Emily peered from the nursery, clutching her wellworn stuffed rabbit.
Grandmother Anne is coming today, I said, forcing a cheerful tone.
And shell tell me I dont eat enough? the girl frowned.
My heart tightened; even the child sensed the relentless criticism.
She loves you very much and just wants you to grow strong and healthy.
Emily gave a halfhearted nod and returned to her toys.
Now began the frantic cleaning. Stephen and I usually live in a pleasant, creative clutter, but before Annes arrival the flat had to sparkle. Otherwise she would certainly remark that the place looks like a barn and will breed germs.
In two hours I managed to mop the floors, dust the surfaces, and even bake an apple crumble the only thing I ever manage to pull off that Anne ever praises.
Stephen was due back for lunch. Both of us work from home; hes a software developer, Im a graphic designer. Today he had an important client meeting, so he was at the office.
The doorbell rang precisely at two. Anne was punctual as a Swiss watch.
Well, look whos here! she announced, a short, plump woman with chestnuttinted hair, laden with bags. Wheres my little princess?
Emily shyly peeked out of the nursery.
Come here, darling! Grandmother has brought treats!
The girl approached and extended her hand for a kiss, a ritual Anne had taught her, insisting that girls should grow up proper ladies.
Only grownup girls get kissed on the hand, Anne declared, hugging her granddaughter. When youre sixteen youll be the one offering your hand to suitors. Until then, you just say hello to Grandma.
I rolled my eyes, hoping she didnt see. The contradictions in Annes parenting advice were endless.
Let me take those bags for you, I offered.
Yes, yes, bring them to the kitchen. Ive prepared so much! Stephen must eat properly, not just whatever is at hand.
In the kitchen Anne immediately began dispatching orders:
Irene, fetch a big pot. Not that plastic one, a proper metal one. And wheres your bread? Do you keep it in the fridge? You cant! It goes stale!
I handed over the requested items, patience growing thin. After six years of marriage I had learned that Anne always believed she knew best.
Emily looks so pale, Anne observed, arranging jars of preserves on the counter. Do you take her out? Give her vitamins?
We walk every day if the weather allows, and we give her the supplement the paediatrician prescribed, Stephen replied.
Paediatricians! Anne scoffed. What do those youngsters know? In our day
I sighed silently.
Back then we kept children outdoors from sunrise to sunset and toughened them up! Id take Stephen out in any weather, and he grew healthy.
I kept quiet, though I could have reminded her that Stephen suffered from chronic bronchitis each winter and had tonsillitis as a child.
Ive baked a crumble. Fancy a cup of tea?
First lunch, then tea. Everything in order. And wheres Stephen? Hes not here yet.
The hallway lock clicked, and Stephen appeared, staring at the pile of shoes by the entryway.
Mum? Why didnt you tell me you were coming?
How could I not? I called Irene this morning! Anne exclaimed.
I gave Stephen an apologetic smile; I had forgotten to text him about the visit.
Hi, Mum, Stephen greeted, hugging his mother. How are you feeling?
My blood pressures fluctuating, my legs swell by evening, but I dont complain. We manage fine, dont burden anyone.
That was the usual refrain, always followed by a litany of ailments, a gentle reminder that I rarely visited my own mother.
Get undressed, Ill heat up lunch. Ive been at the stove all morning, preparing your favourite dishes.
Stephen shot a guilty glance at me; he knew how stressful these visits could be for me.
During lunch Anne launched into memories of Stephens childhood, reciting poems he used to love.
At four he could read! Hed recite verses, youd be amazed! Emily, do you know any poems?
Emily poked at her food with a fork, silent.
She knows a lot, I tried to interject. Emily, tell Grandma about the teddy bear.
I dont want to, the girl muttered, pouting.
See, Stephen? Anne exclaimed, waving her hands. The child is so withdrawn. You should send her to nursery, let her mingle.
Mum, weve already discussed this, Stephen intervened. We decided to wait until shes four. No need to rush her development.
Rushing? Anne raised her voice. I gave you yours at two, and look how fine he turned out! Your little one is like a shy fawn, eats nothing
Emily pushed her plate away and puffed out her cheeks.
Can I go play now?
No, finish your cutlet first, sweetheart, Anne commanded.
Finish your cutlet, love, I said gently, though inside I was boiling.
Emily forced a bite, then nodded as Anne approved.
Much better, Anne said, satisfied. Youre spoiling her too much. A child needs routine, discipline. When I raised Stephen
She launched into another nostalgic monologue about how shed disciplined her son.
After lunch Anne insisted Emily take a nap.
Children must nap in the afternoon! Its essential! she declared.
I wanted to argue that Emily no longer napped and forcing her would ruin her nights sleep, but Stephen gave a warning shake of his head: its easier to comply than to argue.
Let her rest a bit, he whispered to me.
While Anne struggled to coax the stubborn girl to bed, I brewed tea and sliced the crumble.
Useless, Anne returned half an hour later, exasperated. Shes completely out of hand. In our day a child always obeyed!
I caught myself about to say, In your day you even beat children for disobedience, but swallowed the retort.
She just isnt tired yet, Stephen soothed. Mum, try a piece of the crumble I made especially for you.
Anne examined the slice with suspicion.
No additives, I hope? Not those storebought mixes?
All natural, I assured her. Flour, eggs, apples from our garden, the very same you gave us.
She seemed to soften a little.
Youve learned, finally. I remember when you first married you couldnt even fry an egg properly.
I stayed silent; I could have reminded her that Id lived on my own for ten years before we married and could cook just fine, only not the way she expected.
Stephen, Anne said, turning to her son, could you drop by next week? The tap in the bathroom leaks and a light in the pantrys burnt out. Im terrified of ladders.
Of course, Mum, he replied, looking guilty. Ill come Wednesday.
Wednesday I have Mrs. Patel visiting maybe Tuesday?
Tuesday I have an important client meeting, Stephen gestured helplessly.
Then Ill just sit with the leaky tap, Anne sighed. Not the first time.
I felt a familiar knot forming in my throat; the subtle blackmail, the endless reproaches.
I can go with you today, check the tap, Stephen offered, unable to bear another sigh from his mother.
Annes face brightened.
Good! And while youre at it, look at the wallpaper in the hallway. Its been up for five years, its rather unsightly now.
Wheres Emily playing? Its too quiet, I asked suddenly.
In her room, looking at books. I told her not to scatter her toys, Anne replied.
I peeked into the nursery and froze. Emily was carefully cutting pictures from a brandnew picture book we had just ordered yesterday.
Emily! What are you doing?
She looked up, unflustered.
Grandma said I could cut pictures and make an album. She gave me the scissors.
I snatched the expensive bookhardcover with lovely illustrationsaway. Stephen had ordered it online; we were eager to start reading it.
Emily, thats a brandnew book! We only started it yesterday!
Tears welled in her eyes.
Grandma said she sniffed.
I inhaled deeply, trying to stay calm.
Its okay, love. Next time you want to cut something, ask Dad or me first, alright?
She nodded and clung to me.
Back in the kitchen Anne was animatedly recounting a neighbours drama from the fifth floor.
Anne, I interjected, keeping my voice even. Did you give Emily the scissors?
Of course! Children need to learn handiwork. We glued and cut all the time as kids. Now everyones glued to their phones
But shes ruined a new book, the one we just received.
So what? Its just a book! At least shell have a lovely album. It nurtures creativity.
Stephen was caught between the two of us.
Mum, but you could have asked us first, he said cautiously.
Ah, so now I must ask permission to spend time with my own granddaughter? Who am I, an intruder?
No one talks like that, Stephen tried to calm her.
Exactly! Anne shouted. Im the extra person in this house. I come, I cook, and Im met with criticism!
Anne, I stood as well, no one is accusing you. Just there are boundaries.
Boundaries? she snapped. What boundaries between a grandmother and a granddaughter? I raised Stephen alone! I know how to bring up children, unlike some who cant even make a decent lunch!
Mum! Stephen raised his voice. Stop this right now!
Silence fell. Emily peeked out, eyes wide.
Grandma is shouting, she whispered.
Anne instantly softened:
Come here, my dear. Grandma isnt shouting, just adults talking. Lets finish our album together, okay?
No, I said firmly. No more cutting. Emily will watch a cartoon with Dad, and well have a proper talk, Anne.
Anne tried to argue, but Stephen took his daughters hand.
Shall we watch Frozen, princess?
When they left, I invited Anne to sit.
Anne, I know you love Emily and want the best for her. Stephen and I have our own way of parenting, and we ask that you respect it.
So I should stay silent when I see a child being raised wrongly? she retorted.
You may suggest, you may advise, but you cannot decide for us. And please, dont tell Emily she can do things we normally forbid.
Like what? she asked, eyes narrowed.
Like cutting books, skipping afternoon naps, or eating sweets before lunch.
So I shouldnt spoil my granddaughter? What are grandmothers for, then?
I sighed; we were speaking different languages.
Spoiling is fine in moderation, as long as you discuss it with us first.
Anne pursed her lips, began gathering her bags.
If thats how it is, Ill be on my way. Theres nothing left for me here if I cant even have a normal moment with Emily.
No drama, please, I said, weary. Just lets respect each other.
Thirty years teaching, raising my son alone, and now I must ask permission to let my granddaughter cut pictures! she muttered, slipping into her coat.
Stephen emerged from the hallway, hearing the commotion.
Mum, youre leaving?
Yes, dear. Your wife doesnt like how I handle Emily.
Mum, dont start, Stephen winced. Let me give you a ride and fix the tap while Im at it?
Annes face brightened a little.
If it isnt too much trouble Just bring a screwdriver; the cupboard hinge is still squeaking.
When they departed, I collapsed onto the sofa. Emily slipped into the room, climbed onto my lap.
Mum, I wont cut books again, she promised solemnly. I didnt know it was wrong.
Of course, love, I hugged her. Youre not at fault. Next time, if Grandma suggests something, ask Dad or me first, alright?
She nodded and rested her head against me.
Stephen returned about an hour and a half later, exhausted but satisfied.
Fixed the tap, replaced the bulb, tightened the hinge. Grandma sends her apologies and says she wont interfere with the kids upbringing any more.
And Im supposed to believe that? I chuckled.
He sat beside me, pulling me close.
Of course not. But at least well have a week of peace.
We laughed. Perhaps one day our relationship with Anne will improve, perhaps not. For now we have our little family, our home, our rules, and well defend them no matter what.
A week later Anne called, offering to teach Emily how to bake pies. Time for the girl to learn a proper ladys craft, she declared, implying modern girls cant do anything. I sighed, exchanged a look with Stephen, and knew the cycle would continue. Yet we would manage, because deep down she only wants what she thinks is best, even if her best isnt ours.
