Cant you spare an extra bowl of soup for me and your grandson? I dont understand!
Yes, *Emily*. It *is* difficult. A lot has changed since you left, *Margaret* replied, not even letting her daughter cross the threshold. Remind me. Wasnt it *you* who threw me out of *your* house and *your* life? So why do you think you can demand anything now?
Emily rolled her eyes like a petulant child being lectured on mannersironic, since that was exactly how she was acting. *The world owes me everything*hardly the mindset of a grown woman.
Mum, *really*? I was *pregnant* back then. Hormones, stress I dont even remember half of what I said!
But *I* do. Every word. How you hated me. How I had no heart. How I *wanted* your child to God, and thats the *polite* version. If Im so awful, why come crawling back now?
Oh, for *heavens sake*, Mum! Youre the adult here. You shouldve understood, found a way to fix things. Youve been pregnantyou *know* how moods swing.
Even now, Emily twisted it so *she* was the victim, as if Margaret shouldve danced attendance on her. But Margaret was done.
Oh, I understood you perfectly, she said slowly, folding her arms. But I didnt forgive. Ill give you money, Emily. A little. But I wont let you back in.
It wasnt just the flat. It was her *life*. Because she knewEmily would push, demand, and wreck everything Margaret had rebuilt.
How much is *a little*?
Two thousand pounds. Enough to get back on your feet.
That wont last a *month*! Fine for *me*, Ill tighten my belt, skip mealsbut how can you do this to your *grandson*?
Margaret refused to argue.
People in need take what theyre given. If its not enough, figure it out yourself.
The door slammed shut.
Fine! I *will*! But remember thismen come and go, but its your *children* wholl hold the cup when youre old. And you? Youll *die alone*. When youre sitting in that empty house, *then* youll think of me!
Footsteps faded down the hall. Margaret leaned against the wall, biting her lip to keep from crying. It hurtGod, it *hurt*but the rift between them had been there for years. Maybe it was always there.
…Emily had been spoiled rotten. Grandparents rushed to buy toys at her every tantrum; her father indulged her worst whims. Didnt like a dress? Off to the shops for a new one. Smashed her phone in a fit? No matterhed buy a better one. Wanted a puppy? *Of course, darling, pick any breed.*
No wonder she was *Daddys girl*. If Mum said no, she ran to Dadwho *always* said yes.
Her parents fought over it endlessly. *William* was a loving husband and father, but when it came to Emily, he had no boundaries.
*Will*, why did you give her money for those concert tickets? You couldve asked me! Margaret snapped, hands on hips. I *told* her no. It wasnt about the money. She was supposed to help your mum with the garden, and she said, *If you two care so much, *you* do it.*
Will would frown, knowing shed gone too farbut hed just wave it off.
Come on. Werent *we* just as bad at her age? Let her enjoy being young. Soon enough, shell fly the nest.
Truer words were never spoken.
Will died when Emily was fourteen. And after that? Everything fell apart. Emily had always been difficult, but now? *Everything* was Margarets fault. Caught a cold? *You brought it home from work.* Broke up with a boyfriend? *Because you wouldnt let me go clubbing.* Failed her A-levels? *Everyone else had tutors*you* made me do it alone.*
Not that Margaret expected her to get into university on merit. Shed saved*their* savings, hers and Willsjust in case.
Why bother with the degree? her friend *Janet* had sighed. Love, shes not exactly *Oxford material*. If she drops out later, itll just hurt more.
She *wants* it. And Im doing it for Will. Hed never forgive me if I sent her out with nothing.
Margaret worked two jobs to keep them afloat. Colleagues called her *Saint Margaret*but the truth was, she was terrified of being alone. Emily was all she had.
At uni, Emily announced she was moving in with a *friend*parents were renting her a flat, and she was *bored*. Margaret objected, but what could she do? Emily was an adult now.
Turns out, the *friend* was *Daniel*. A year later, Emily was pregnant.
Mum, guess what? Were having a *baby*! she gushed.
The room spun. Margarets knees buckled.
Emily Neither of you *work*. Where will you live? How will you
Benefits, Daniels parents, *you* Hell pick up odd jobs, Emily said brightly, as if it were all settled.
Margaret hated her role in this. Shed hoped supporting Emily through uni would be the *end* of her obligations. Now? It was only the beginning.
Oh, and Mum Emily added. Tuitions due soon. Can you cover it?
*Tuition*? Youll take a *newborn* to lectures? Margaret narrowed her eyes. Take a gap year or *rethink* this pregnancy. Youre not ready.
What followed was ugly. Emily raged about *Dads money*, accused Margaret of *killing her grandchild*, called her a *monster*, and threw her out.
Margaret waited for her to cool offthis wasnt their first row. But no. The next day, Emily had blocked her *everywhere*. Margaret knew where she lived, couldve gone to herbut enough was enough. No more begging.
Losing Emily felt like losing *everything* But nature abhors a vacuum.
After Emily left, Margaret rebuilt her life. She joined a gymwhere she met *Geoffrey*. He helped her with the weights, offered her a lift home and soon, they were married.
Geoffrey was ten years older. A widower, with a grown son, *Thomas*, a daughter-in-law, *Claire*, and a grandson, *Oliver*. Suddenly, Margaret wasnt just a wifeshe was part of a *family*. And they welcomed her, especially Claire, who treated her more like a sister than a mother-in-law.
Oliver? He was *everything*. Margaret spoiled him rottenbaking cookies, taking him to the park, buying toys. At first, Claire only dropped him off when she was desperate, but soon, Oliver asked to come.
Gran, can we feed the pigeons today? hed chirped once.
And her heart *melted*. Shed forgotten what real, uncomplicated love felt like.
Life had colour again. *Meaning*. Then, two years later, Emily remembered she had a mother.
Daniel had decided fatherhood wasnt for him. Got his degree, flitted between jobs, then packed up and moved back to his parents.
But the baby? Still here. And Emily needed somewhere to live.
Only now, Margaret decided*not her problem*. Especially when Emily returned not with apologies, but *demands*.
*Youll die alone.* The words echoed. It *ached*, like part of her had been ripped away. But shed survived it once. Shed survive it now.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Geoffrey: *Wine and dinner tonight? Just us.* Another from Clairea photo of three lopsided gingerbread men.
Oliver made these at nursery. One for me, one for Dad, and one for *you*. Can we come over?
Margaret smiled. Warmth flooded her. Soquiet evening with her husband, or a house full of laughter?
Either way, it didnt matter. What *did*?
Once, shed been so afraid of being alone, shed endure *anything* to feel needed. Now she knewbeing needed wasnt the same as being *loved*.
She wasnt alone. And perhaps she never would be again.
