Id never imagined things would get so tangled, but here we were, living in a modest terraced house in the suburbs of Manchester. My wife, Anne, was busy setting the table when I heard the front door open. It was our elevenyearold stepdaughter, Emily, returning from school, and I, Ian, stood there with a nervous smile.
Hi, love, I greeted her, trying to sound casual.
Hey, Emily replied, barely looking at me, then slipped into the kitchen.
Anne, keeping her tone even, said, Come sit down, dinners ready. The room fell into a heavy silence. I tried to break it, chatting about my day, but Emily answered with monosyllables or stayed silent, clearly ignoring Anne. She ate quietly, a lump forming in her throat.
Dad, Mum said she urgently needs money for a new winter coat, Emily blurted out suddenly. Her old ones ragged, and shes embarrassed to go to school with it.
Alright, Emily, I said calmly. Well talk after dinner.
Inside, Annes jaw tightened. Money again, endless requests, she thought. How many more times can we be asked for this?
After we finished eating, Emily and I retreated to her bedroom for her homework. Anne stayed in the kitchen, washing up, while bits of their conversation drifted to her.
Dad, you know she really needs it. Shes the only one supporting us, and Emilys voice faded.
Cant my husband buy her a coat? I asked timidly.
Dad, what does my husband have to do with it? Hes broke! I wouldnt ask if things werent dire. Youre a man; you should step up! Im your daughter! Emily snapped.
Anne could no longer stand it. She slammed the sponge into the sink and marched into the bedroom.
Ian, we need to talk, she said firmly.
Not right now, Anne, I tried to dodge. Were doing homework.
No, now, she pressed. Emily, could you give us a minute?
Emily frowned but left the room. Anne closed the door behind her and turned to me.
How long is this going to go on? she demanded.
What do you mean? I pretended not to get it.
The money, Ian! Your exwife, Emily, all of it! Were barely covering the mortgage, Ive had to cut myself out of everything, and you keep handing cash over to her! Its absurd!
This is my child. I cant just turn my back on her, I began to explain.
And what about me? About us? We have needs too! I cant even get my teeth fixed because theres no money left!
I get it, I said, guilty. Ill speak to Olivia.
Shell never listen! She always gets what she wants. Maybe you should remind her she has a husband who should also look after his own family, Anne snapped.
Anne, cut it out with Olivia, I muttered, frowning. Shes a good mother.
A good mother? If she were, she wouldnt dump all her problems on you! Its convenient that you foot the bill, Anne shot back.
Enough! I exploded. Dont talk about my childs mother like that!
And dont forget you have a real wife a wife who loves and supports you! Anne shouted, tears welling.
I love you, I whispered, but I cant abandon my daughter.
Then decide who you love more, Anne challenged.
I lowered my head, silent.
Whats all this shouting about? Anne asked, eyeing my tearstreaked face. Are you both angry?
No, Emily, I replied, trying to calm her. Everythings fine.
No, its not fine! Anne cried. Your father and I are fighting because of you and your mother!
Because of me? Emilys eyebrows shot up.
Yes, because you keep demanding money, because you treat me like an empty space! Anne spat.
What am I supposed to do, love you? Youre a stranger to me! Emily snapped. Ive got my mum!
Anne felt as if shed been slapped. She looked at me, waiting for a response, but I only bowed my head.
Emily, I said softly, you can stay here as long as you like, but I wont put up with this silence any longer. My patience is over.
I left the room, leaving Anne and Emily alone. Closing the bedroom door, Anne grabbed her phone and dialed her friend.
Hey, she choked out, I need to talk.
The next morning Anne met her friend at a café on the high street. She looked pale, barely touching her scone. The friend listened, then asked, Anne, are you seriously thinking about divorce?
I dont know, Anne admitted. I love you, Ian, but I cant live like this. Hes torn between his exfamily and me, and I feel like an extra. Im exhausted.
I get it. Maybe have another go at talking to him? Explain how you feel, what you need, the friend suggested.
Ive said it a thousand times! Anne snapped. He seems to understand but nothing changes. He doesnt want to hurt his daughter, yet he hurts me.
What about Emily? Have you tried speaking with her? the friend asked.
Its pointless, Anne retorted. She only listens to her mother and does everything to get under my skin. She doesnt see me as a person.
Kids often mirror their parents, the friend noted. Maybe you should try to find common ground with her?
She cant stand me! She ignores me on purpose! Its impossible, Anne shot back.
But what if you give it another try? Show her you want a relationship, and maybe shell change her attitude, the friend urged.
Anne thought it over. Her friend had a point: if she wanted to save the marriage, shed have to swallow some pride and try to reach the stubborn teenager.
Fine, Anne finally said. Ill try, though I dont expect much.
That afternoon, when Ian brought Emily home, Anne decided to act. She emerged from the kitchen with a tray of biscuits and tea.
Emily, would you like some tea and biscuits? she asked.
Emily looked up, her gaze icy.
Im not hungry, she replied.
Just have a bite, Anne urged, setting the tray down. I baked them myself.
Reluctantly, Emily took a biscuit and tasted it.
Nice, she murmured.
Im glad, Anne smiled. Come sit, Ill get you some tea.
Emily sank into the sofa, still clutching her phone. The atmosphere had shifted; moments earlier Anne had shouted, now she was offering a peace offering.
Emily, I wanted to talk, Anne began. I know you dont like me being around your dad.
And why should I? Emily interrupted. Youre not my mother.
I get that, Anne nodded. Im not trying to replace anyone. I just want us to get along. Your dad suffers because of our fights.
Emily stared at her cup.
I know you love your mum, and thats fine. It doesnt mean you have to hate me. I love your dad too, Anne continued.
Youre lying! Emily snapped. You two are always arguing!
We argue because its hard, Anne admitted. But that doesnt mean we dont care for each other.
She fell silent, waiting for a reaction. Emily stared at the pattern on the tablecloth.
Emily, Ive never wished you any harm. I just want everyone to be happy. Youre the daughter of the man I love most, Anne said gently. Do you understand?
Emily lifted her eyes, meeting Annes. The hostility in them seemed to melt.
Really? she whispered.
Yes, Anne replied, I could swear on my life.
Just then Ian walked in, surprised to see the two of them sitting together, quiet.
Everything alright? he asked.
Were just talking, Anne smiled.
The evening turned out far better than anyone expected. Emily and Anne played a round of Twister, laughing, while Ian roared with delight. For the first time, Emily didnt see her stepmother as an enemy but as someone who could be kind. It was a small victory, but enough to make us all think that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.
