Irene Clarke flinched as the phone rang sharply. The screen flashed Edith Harper. It was the third call that morning from her motherinlaw. Taking a steadying breath, Irene pressed the green button.
Hello, Edith. Im listening, she said.
Emma, why arent you answering? Ive been calling all morning! Ediths voice dripped with accusation. Im on the line again!
I was making porridge for Emily, my hands were full, Irene lied, though the truth was she simply could not bear another lecture about how she was raising her child.
More porridge! I told you children need meat. My son Tom grew up on steak and look at himso sturdy! Your Emily is pale as a ghost; a cold wind will blow her away, Edith scolded.
Irene squeezed her eyes shut and counted to five. Emily was only three, and the paediatrician had confirmed she was developing normallyher slight frame was simply the sidebranch of her fathers family.
Yes, we do give her meat, Irene replied. Tonights dinner will be meatballs.
Good! Thats why Im calling. Ill be over this afternoon with chicken broth on the bonesjust the way Tom liked it. Ill also make my special cutlets, not those those meatballs you serve, Edith hissed, the sarcasm cutting like a knife.
Dont worry, we have everything we need, Irene tried to protest.
Whats there to worry about? Grandmother wants to see her granddaughter! You wont stop me, will you? Ediths question left no room for refusal.
Of course, come over, Irene gave in.
She leaned her forehead against the cool window pane, watching the sparse November snowflakes drift onto bare branches. The day was damp and grey.
Mum, who were you talking to? Emily peeked from the bedroom, clutching a threadbare stuffed rabbit.
Grandma Edith is coming today, Irene said, forcing a bright tone.
Will she say Im not eating enough again? the little girl frowned.
Irene felt a sting in her chest. Even the toddler sensed the perpetual criticism.
She loves you very much and just wants you strong and healthy, Irene soothed.
Emily gave a reluctant nod and returned to her toys.
Now the flat had to sparkle. Though Irene and James preferred a creative mess, a motherinlaws visit demanded immaculate order, lest Edith mutter about a filthy barn breeding germs. In two hours Irene scrubbed the floors, dusted the surfaces and baked an apple crumblethe one dessert Edith always praised.
James was due back from work at lunch. They both worked from homeJames as a software developer, Irene as a graphic designerbut today James had an important client meeting and was heading to the office.
Exactly two hours later the doorbell rang. Edith was punctual as a Swiss watch.
Well, look whos finally arrived, my little bride! the short, plump woman with chestnuttinted hair entered, arms laden with bags. Wheres my princess?
Emily shyly emerged from her room.
Come here, sweetheart! Grandmas brought treats!
The girl extended her hand for a kiss, a gesture taught to her by Edith, who believed young girls should grow up as proper ladies.
Only grownup girls get kissed on the hand, Edith said, bending to hug her granddaughter. When youre sixteen, youll offer your hand to gentlemen. Until then, just say hello to me.
Irene rolled her eyes, hoping Edith didnt notice. The contradictions in her advice were endless.
Edith, let me help with the bags, Irene offered.
Yes, take them to the kitchen. Ive prepared a lot! Tom needs proper meals, not whatever scraps you serve, Edith commanded, already issuing orders.
Give me the big potno, not the plastic one, the proper metal one. And where do you keep bread? In the fridge? Dont do that, it gets stale! she snapped.
Irene fetched the cookware with practiced patience. After six years of marriage, she had learned to expect Ediths unsolicited expertise on everything.
Emily looks a bit pale, Edith observed while arranging jars of homemade pickles. Do you take her out? Give her vitamins?
Yes, we walk every day if the weather allows, and we give her the multivitamin the doctor prescribed, Irene replied.
Doctors! What do those youngsters know? Edith scoffed. In my day we kept children outside from dawn till dusk and hardened them up. Tom was out in any weather, and he turned out fine.
Irene swallowed her retort, remembering that James had suffered chronic bronchitis every winter and terrible tonsillitis as a child.
Would you like some tea with the crumble? Edith asked.
First lunch, then tea. And wheres Tom? Why isnt he here yet? she pressed.
At that moment the hallway lock clicked.
There he is! Edith exclaimed as James slipped in, eyes widening at the pile of shoes by the door.
Mum, why didnt you tell me you were coming? he asked.
I called Irene this morning! Edith snapped.
Irene gave a guilty smile; she had forgotten to text James about the visit.
Hey, mum, James said, hugging his mother. How are you feeling?
Pressures high, my legs swell by evening, but I dont complain. We manage ourselves, dont burden anyone, she replied, the usual refrain that always preceded a litany of ailments.
Undress, Ill heat the food. Ive been at the stove since morning, making your favourite dishes, she added.
James shot a remorseful look at Irene, fully aware how stressful these visits were for her.
During lunch Edith launched into nostalgia about Toms early reading and poetry recitals. Emily, do you know any verses? she asked.
The girl poked at her plate with a fork.
She knows a lot, Irene interjected. Emily, tell Grandma about the bear.
I dont want to, Emily muttered, frowning.
There, see? Shes too shy, you should put her in nursery so she talks more, Edith declared.
James, weve agreed to wait until shes four before we consider nursery, he reminded calmly. We dont want to rush her development.
Rushed? I sent Tom to school at two, and he turned out fine! Your girl is like a shy deer, eats nothing Ediths voice rose.
Emily pushed her plate away, cheeks puffed.
Can I go play? she asked.
No, finish your cutlet first, Edith ordered.
Finish, darling, Irene soothed, though the tension simmered beneath her smile.
Emily forced a bite, and Edith nodded approvingly. Much better. Youre spoiling her. A child needs routine and discipline. When I raised Tom
After the meal Edith insisted Emily take a nap, declaring, Children must nap in the afternoon! Its essential for their schedule. Irene wanted to argue that Emily hadnt napped for weeks and forcing one would keep her up till midnight, but James simply whispered, Let her rest a bit; its easier than fighting.
While Edith wrestled with the reluctant toddler, Irene brewed tea and sliced the apple crumble.
Useless, Edith returned half an hour later, she wont settle. In my day every child obeyed.
Shes just not tired yet, James said soothingly. Mom, try the crumble; Irene baked it just for you.
Edith eyed the slice warily. I hope its free of those artificial additives. Those supermarket mixes
Its all naturalflour, eggs, apples from our garden, the same ones you gave us, Irene assured, softening her tone.
Thats better, Edith admitted. I remember when you first married you could barely fry an egg.
Irene stayed silent, though she could have reminded Edith that shed been independent for a decade and was a competent cook, just not in the oldfashioned way Edith expected.
Tom, could you pop over next week? The bathroom tap is leaking and the pantry light has blown. Im scared to climb a ladder, might fall and break a bone. Who will I be to you then? Edith asked her son.
Sure, Mum, Ill swing by on Wednesday, James said, looking apologetic.
Wednesday I have Mrs. Patel visiting maybe Tuesday? Edith suggested.
I have a crucial client meeting Tuesday, James gestured helplessly.
Fine, Ill just sit with the drippy tap then. Not the first time, she muttered, a thin veil of sarcasm over genuine frustration.
Irenes lip quivered. The same thinveiled blackmail, the perpetual blame, never ceased.
I can go with you, check the tap, James offered, weary of his mothers sighs.
Ediths face brightened. Great! And while youre at it, look at the wallpaper in the hallway. Its been up five years; its time for a change.
Wheres Emily playing? Its too quiet, Irene asked suddenly.
In her room, looking at books. I told her not to fling her toys about, Edith replied.
Peeking inside, Irene froze. Emily was carefully cutting pictures from a brandnew picture book theyd just ordered yesterday.
Emily! What are you doing? Irene demanded.
The girl looked up, unflustered. Grandma said we could cut pictures and make an album. She gave me scissors.
Irene snatched the damaged booka costly, beautifully illustrated volume James had ordered online. Emily, thats a new book! We just started reading it yesterday!
Tears welled in the childs eyes. Grandma said she hiccupped.
Taking a deep breath, Irene said gently, Its okay, love. Next time you want to cut something, ask Mum or Dad first, alright?
She returned to the kitchen where Edith was animatedly recounting a neighbours latest drama.
Edith, did you give Emily the scissors? Irene asked calmly.
Of course! Kids need to learn handiwork. We used to glue and cut all the time. Now they just stare at phones, Edith replied.
But she ruined a brandnew book, the one we just received, Irene replied, trying not to raise her voice.
Its just a book, Edith waved it off. Shell have a lovely album. Its good for creativity.
The book was expensive, and we wanted to read it together first, Irene said, barely holding back frustration.
Books are paper, love them or use them, Edith declared, turning to James. Tell your wife not to make a mountain out of a molehill.
Mom, you could have asked us first, James said tentatively.
Exactly! I have to ask permission to spend time with my own granddaughter? Who am I here, a stranger? Edith retorted, voice rising.
No one talks like that, James tried to calm her.
Yes, thats exactly what we say! Edith snapped, pulling herself up. Im the extra person in this house. I come, I cook, and Im met with criticism!
Edith, Irene stood as well, no one is berating you. There are boundaries.
Boundaries? Edith scoffed. What boundaries between grandma and granddaughter? I raised Tom alone! I know how to bring up children, unlike some people who cant even make a decent lunch!
Mom! James shouted. Stop this right now!
Silence fell. Emily peeked from the bedroom, eyes wide with fear.
Grandma is shouting, she whispered.
Ediths tone softened instantly. Come here, my dear. Im not shouting, just having an adult conversation. Well finish our album together, okay?
No, Irene said firmly. No more cutting. Emily will go with Dad to watch a film, and well have a word with you, Edith.
Edith opened her mouth to argue, but James already took the girls hand.
Lets go, princess, and watch Frozen, he suggested.
When they left, Irene offered Edith a seat. Edith, I know you love Emily and want the best for her, but James and I have our own parenting style. Please respect that.
So I should stay silent while I see a child being raised the wrong way? Edith snapped, lips pursed.
You may suggest, you may advise, but you cannot decide for us. And please, dont tell Emily what she may or may not do.
What, like cutting books, skipping naps, eating sweets before lunch? Edith asked, eyes narrowing.
So Im not allowed to spoil my granddaughter? Whats a grandmother for then? Irene sighed. They were speaking different languages.
You can spoil, but within limits, and discuss it with us first, Irene said.
Edith pressed her lips together, gathering her bags. If thats the case, Im leaving. Theres nothing for me here if I cant even talk to my granddaughter properly.
Dont dramatise, Irene said wearily. Just lets try to respect each other.
Thirty years teaching, raising a son alone, and now I have to ask permission to let my granddaughter cut pictures! Edith muttered, pulling her coat on.
James stepped out, hearing the clatter in the hallway. Mum, youre really leaving?
Yes, Im not welcome here, Edith replied. Your wife doesnt like how I look after Emily.
Dont start, please, James pleaded. Let me walk you to the tap and fix it?
Ediths face brightened a fraction. Alright, if its not too much just bring a screwdriver; the cabinet hinge is loose.
As they departed, Irene collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. Emily crept in quietly, climbing onto her lap.
Mum, I wont cut books again, she said solemnly. I didnt know I wasnt supposed to.
Youre not at fault, love, Irene whispered, hugging her. Next time Grandma suggests something, ask Dad or me first, okay?
The girl nodded, pressing her cheek to her mothers.
James returned after an hour, looking tired but satisfied. Tap fixed, light replaced, cabinet tightened. Mum sends her apologies and says she wont interfere with the parenting any more.
And I should believe that? Irene quipped, a hint of sarcasm in her smile.
James sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. No, but well have a breather for at least a week.
They laughed, the tension easing a little. Maybe, someday, theyd find a rhythm with Edith. Or maybe not. For now they had their little family, their home, their rulesand they would defend them, come what may.
A week later Edith called, offering to teach Emily how to bake pies. Its time the girl learns a proper ladys craft, or shell end up like todays youthgood for nothing, she declared. Irene sighed, exchanged a glance with James, and saw the same weary understanding in his eyes: the battle would never truly end. Yet they would manage. After all, Edith did want what she believed was best, even if her idea of best was nothing like theirs.
