Emily pulled her car to a stop just up the road from her mother-in-laws house. The clock read 17:45she was earlier than agreed. *Perhaps this time shell appreciate my punctuality*, she thought, smoothing the creases from her new dress. The giftan antique brooch shed spent months tracking down through collectorslay carefully wrapped on the back seat.
As she approached the house, she noticed the ground-floor window slightly ajar. Her mother-in-laws voice carried clearly from inside:
No, Margaret, can you believe it? She didnt even bother to ask what cake I liked! Ordered some trendy dessert instead. Our Thomas always adored a proper Victoria sponge, and she a pause, doesnt even understand. Seven years of marriage!
Emily froze. Her feet seemed rooted to the pavement.
Of course, Ive told you beforeshes not right for Thomas. Always at that clinic of hers, day and night, barely ever home. What sort of wife is that? Just yesterday, I popped rounddirty dishes, dust on the furniture. And her? Off on some complicated surgery, of course!
Something inside her stilled. Emily leaned against the garden fence, knees trembling. For seven years, shed tried to be the perfect daughter-in-law: cooking, cleaning, remembering every birthday, visiting whenever her mother-in-law was ill. All for nothing.
No, I havent said a word, but reallyis a woman like that suited to my son? He needs a proper family, warmth, care. And her? Always at conferences or working night shifts. Not even thinking of children! Can you imagine?
Her pulse roared in her ears. Mechanically, she pulled out her phone and dialled her husband.
Thomas? Ill be a bit late. Yes, everythings fine, just traffic.
She turned and walked back to the car. Sliding into the drivers seat, she stared blankly ahead. The words shed just heard echoed in her skull: *Could do with more salt, In my day, women stayed home, Thomas works so hardhe needs looking after.*
Her phone buzzeda text from Thomas: *Mums asking where you are. Everyones here.*
Emily drew a slow breath. A strange smile flickered across her face. *Fine,* she thought. *If they want the perfect daughter-in-law, theyll get her.*
She started the engine and swung the car back towards the house. The plan formed in an instant.
No more trying to please. It was time to show them what a *real* daughter-in-law could be.
Emily swept into the house with the brightest smile she could muster. Dearest Mum! she trilled, embracing her mother-in-law with exaggerated warmth. Forgive me for being lateI popped into three different shops to find those exact scented candles you adore!
Her mother-in-law stiffened, startled by the sudden energy. I thought she began, but Emily barrelled on.
Oh, and guess who I ran into? Your lovely friend Margaret! Such a dearalways so *honest*, isnt she? Emily held her mother-in-laws gaze, watching the colour drain from her face.
Dinner became a performance. Emily heaped the best portions onto her mother-in-laws plate, gushed over every remark, and pressed for domestic advice at every turn.
Mum darling, should I simmer the beef stew for five hours or six? And the carpetsmorning or evening for vacuuming? Perhaps I should quit my job? After all, Thomas needs a proper family, doesnt he?
Thomas stared at her, bewildered. Relatives exchanged glances. But Emily didnt stop.
I was thinkingmaybe I should take a housekeeping course? Give up this silly surgery lark. A womans place is in the home, isnt that right, Mum?
Her mother-in-laws fork tapped nervously against her plate. Her confidence withered by the minute.
And what happened next? Well some stories are best read to the end.
