You’re not family, snapped the motherinlaw, shoving the meat back into the pot.
Olivia froze by the stove, a plate trembling in her hands. A thin gravy from the beef stew her motherinlaw, Ruth Peters, had just finished simmering still clung to the dish. One by one the pieces of meat vanished into the pot as if Ruth were counting them off, onebyone.
Excuse me? Olivia asked, certain shed misheard.
Whats so mysterious about it? Ruth replied, wiping her hands on her apron before turning to her daughterinlaw. We never took you in. You barged into our family yourself.
The kitchen fell so quiet you could hear the stew bubbling on the burner. Olivia set the plate down, brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, and felt her hands shake.
Ruth, I dont understand. Victor and I have been married for five years! We have a daughter
And so what? Ruth cut in. Our little bloodprincess, thats all. Youll stay an outsider forever.
The kitchen door swung open and Victor trudged in, hair dishevelled, shirt untucked clearly hed been napping on the couch after work.
Whats all this shouting about? he asked, looking from his wife to his mother. Why are you yelling?
Were not yelling, Ruth said calmly. Just having a chat. Im explaining to your wife how things work in this house.
Victor frowned at Olivia, who stared back, pale, lips pressed tight.
Mum, what did you just say? he asked.
The truth, Ruth replied. Meat isnt for everyone. The familys big, the portions are small.
Olivia felt a lump rise in her throat. That was it. Five years shed believed shed become part of the family, five years of trying to please Ruth, enduring her sharp remarks and endless nagging, hoping the relationship would smooth over with time.
Victor, Im going home, she whispered to him. To Mums.
What home? Ruth snapped. Your home is here now. Do you think you can come and go as you please?
Please stop, Mum, Victor stepped toward Olivia. Whats happening?
Olivia stayed silent. How could she explain to her husband that his mother had just made it clear she was a nobody here? That even a plate of stew was too much for her?
Ill collect Poppy, she said instead of answering. And Ill take her to my mum for the weekend.
Why bother? Ruth scoffed. Grandmas right next door. No need to haul the child away.
Grandma thinks her mother isnt family, Olivia replied quietly. Maybe the grandchildren will find a better spot somewhere.
She turned and headed for the kitchen doorway. Victor grabbed her wrist.
Olivia, wait! Explain whats going on.
Olivia turned. Victor looked bewildered, while Ruth stood by the stove, pretending to stir the stew.
Ask Mum, Olivia said. Shell tell you better.
In the playroom, threeyearold Poppy was busy with her dolls. Seeing her mother, she ran over, beaming.
Mum! Look, Im feeding Kitty!
Good girl, love, Olivia crouched and hugged her. Do you want something to eat?
Yes! Grandma said were having stew today!
It will be, sweetheart. Well take you to Grandma Susans for dinner.
To your mum? Poppy squealed. Yay! And is Daddy coming?
No, Daddy stays at home.
Olivia started packing a bag with baby clothes, tights, toys everything a toddler might need for a few days. Victor peeked in.
Olivia, whats this about a nursery? Why the fuss over some nonsense?
The nursery? What? Your mum just told me Im not family! She even stole my food! Is this absurd?
Your mother only said a little, Victor tried to smooth things over. Shes a bit fiery. Shell forget tomorrow.
I wont forget, Victor! This isnt the first time.
Come off it! Mums just tired. Works a nightmare, she snapped.
Olivia laughed, but it was a bitter laugh.
Five years of being tired, and it all lands on me?
Dont mind that, Victor said. Just ignore it.
Ignore being called a stranger in my own house? You hear yourself, Victor?
Victor paced, rubbing the back of his neck a habit hed always adopted when speech failed him.
Olivia, where are you off to? Were a family. We have a child.
Thats why Im leaving. I dont want Poppy hearing her mother being put down!
Whos putting you down? Mum was just stating an opinion.
An opinion? Olivia paused, hands still on the bag. She took my food! Said Im a stranger! Thats an opinion?
Maybe she was harsh. But you know shes been carrying the family on her own since your father died. She raised her brother, always controlling everything.
So now I have to endure her control forever?
Victor sat on the edge of the bed, taking Olivias hands.
Lets not fight. Ill talk to Mum, explain.
Explain what? That Im also a person with feelings?
Exactly. Ask her to be nicer.
Olivia shook her head.
Its not about rudeness. Your mother simply wont accept me, and you know that.
Mum just needs time
Five years is a long time! How much longer?
From the kitchen, Ruths voice called out:
Victor! Dinners ready! Everything will be fine!
Victor stood.
Lets eat properly, then talk.
No, thanks. Ive lost my appetite.
Victor lingered, then left. Olivia heard muffled voices from the kitchen, rising and falling, but couldnt make out the words.
She dialed her own mother.
Mum? Can we stay with you a few days?
Of course, love. Whats happened?
Ill tell you later. Were heading over now.
Alright dear. Ive made a big pot of shepherds pie plenty for everyone.
Olivia smiled despite herself. Mum always said there was always enough. She never counted portions or skimped.
Poppy chattered excitedly on the bus, babbling about her dolls and tomorrows plans.
Mum, why didnt Dad come with us? she asked as they approached the house.
Dads at work, sweetheart. Hell be home later.
On the doorstep, Eleanor Irving greeted them with a warm grin. She was the polar opposite of Ruth gentle, kind, ever ready to help.
How Ive missed you! she exclaimed, scooping Poppy into her arms. My little granddaughter! Look how youve grown!
Mum, any new bedtime stories?
Plenty! Well read after dinner.
At the table, Eleanor ladled generous portions of shepherds pie onto plates, saying:
Eat, eat, more! Olivia, youve become so thin. Are you not being fed?
I am, Mum, just havent had an appetite.
It will return. Home and a full belly do wonders.
Olivia looked around the cosy kitchen checkered curtains, an old sideboard with china, family photos on the walls. Here, nobody called her a stranger.
After dinner, when Poppy was asleep, the women settled with tea.
Tell me what happened, Eleanor said, pouring tea into mugs.
Olivia recounted the days kitchen showdown, the meat, Ruths words. Eleanor listened, nodding occasionally.
How did Victor react?
As usual. Said Mum was tired, that I should ignore it.
Understandable, Eleanor murmured, stirring sugar. And how do you feel?
Exhausted. Five years of trying, and she still wont accept me. She always finds something to cling onto.
Give examples.
Olivia sighed. I cook the wrong way, clean the wrong places, raise the child incorrectly. When Poppy fell ill last month, Ruth told me Im a bad mother.
And Victor?
Hes quiet. Says Mum just worries about her grandchild.
Eleanor set her mug down.
Are you happy in this marriage?
The question caught Olivia off guard. She stared out the window at the twinkling streetlights.
I dont know, Mum. I used to be. Now I feel like an outsider in my own family.
Why never told me before?
I thought it would pass. That Ruth would get used to me.
Seems she never did.
Silence settled as rain began to patter outside.
Mum, when you left your own father, how did your grandmother take you?
Eleanor smiled. Your greatgrandmother Kitty called me her daughter from day one. Said, Now I have two daughters. She treated me better than her own sister Zina.
Why?
Because she saw I loved her son, and he loved me. When love is there, theres room for everyone.
Olivia wondered whether Victor truly loved her, or was simply accustomed.
Her phone rang. Victors name flashed on the screen.
Olivia, where are you? his voice sounded worried.
At Mums. I told you.
When will you be back?
I dont know. Maybe Sunday.
What? You have work tomorrow.
I called in sick. Said I was ill.
A pause.
Olivia, stop this drama, come home. Well talk properly.
What are we talking about? That your mother doesnt see me as a person?
Shes just she needs time.
Five years is too little! How many more?
From the kitchen Ruth shouted:
Victor! Come eat! Itll be fine!
Victor rose.
Lets have dinner, then well sort it out.
No, thanks. Ive lost my appetite.
He lingered, then left. Olivia heard muffled conversation, rising and falling, but the words were lost to her.
She called her own mother again.
Mum? Can we stay a few days?
Sure love. Ive made a huge pot of stew enough for all.
Olivia chuckled. Mum always believed there was always enough to go around.
Poppy sang happily on the bus, chattering about her dolls and tomorrows plans.
Mum, why didnt Daddy come with us? she asked as they neared the house.
Daddys at work, love. Hell be back later.
Eleanor welcomed them at the door, a bright smile on her face, the opposite of Ruths sternness.
How Ive missed you! she cried, scooping Poppy up. My dear granddaughter! Look how youve grown!
Mum, any new bedtime tales?
Of course! After tea well read.
At dinner, Eleanor ladled generous portions of shepherds pie, saying:
Eat, eat, more. Olivia, youve grown so skinny. Are you not being fed?
I am, Mum. Just no appetite.
Itll come back. A warm home and a full belly work wonders.
Olivia glanced around the snug kitchen chequered curtains, an antiquated sideboard, family photos. Here, no one called her a stranger.
Later, after Poppy drifted off, the women sat with tea.
Tell me what happened, Eleanor prompted, pouring tea.
Olivia recounted the earlier kitchen clash, the meat, Ruths words. Eleanor listened, nodding now and then.
How did Victor react?
As usual. Said Mum was tired, that I should ignore it.
Understandable, Eleanor murmured, stirring sugar. And how do you feel?
Exhausted. Five years of trying and she still wont accept me. She always finds something to cling onto.
Give examples.
Olivia sighed. I cook the wrong way, clean the wrong places, raise the child incorrectly. When Poppy fell ill last month, Ruth told me Im a bad mother.
And Victor?
Hes quiet. Says Mum just worries about her grandchild.
Eleanor set her mug down.
Are you happy in this marriage?
The question caught Olivia off guard. She stared out the window at the twinkling streetlights.
I dont know, Mum. I used to be. Now I feel like an outsider in my own family.
Why never told me before?
I thought it would pass. That Ruth would get used to me.
Seems she never did.
Silence settled as rain began to patter outside.
Mum, when you left your own father, how did your grandmother take you?
Eleanor smiled. Your greatgrandmother Kitty called me her daughter from day one. Said, Now I have two daughters. She treated me better than her own sister Zina.
Why?
Because she saw I loved her son, and he loved me. When love is there, theres room for everyone.
Olivia wondered whether Victor truly loved her, or was simply accustomed.
Her phone buzzed. Victors name on the screen.
Olivia, where are you? he sounded uneasy.
At Mums. I told you.
When will you be back?
I dont know. Maybe Sunday.
What? You have work tomorrow.
I called in sick. Said I was ill.
A pause.
Olivia, stop this drama, come home. Well talk properly.
What are we talking about? That your mother doesnt see me as a person?
Shes just she needs time.
Five years is too little! How many more?
Ruths voice echoed from the kitchen:
Victor! Come eat! Itll be fine!
Victor rose.
Lets have dinner, then well sort it out.
No, thanks. Ive lost my appetite.
He lingered, then left. Olivia heard muffled conversation, rising and falling, but the words were lost to her.
She called her own mother again.
Mum? Can we stay a few days?
Sure love. Ive made a huge pot of stew enough for all.
Olivia chuckled. Mum always believed there was always enough to go around.
Poppy sang happily on the bus, chattering about her dolls and tomorrows plans.
Mum, why didnt Daddy come with us? she asked as they neared the house.
Daddys at work, love. Hell be back later.
Eleanor welcomed them at the door, a bright smile on her face, the opposite of Ruths sternness.
How Ive missed you! she cried, scooping Poppy up. My dear granddaughter! Look how youve grown!
Mum, any new bedtime tales?
Of course! After tea well read.
At dinner, Eleanor ladled generous portions of shepherds pie, saying:
Eat, eat, more. Olivia, youve grown so skinny. Are you not being fed?
I am, Mum. Just no appetite.
Itll come back. A warm home and a full belly work wonders.
Olivia glanced around the snug kitchen chequered curtains, an antiquated sideboard, family photos. Here, no one called her a stranger.
Later, after Poppy drifted off, the women sat with tea.
Tell me what happened, Eleanor prompted, pouring tea.
Olivia recounted the earlier kitchen clash, the meat, Ruths words. Eleanor listened, nodding now and then.
How did Victor react?
As usual. Said Mum was tired, that I should ignore it.
Understandable, Eleanor murmured, stirring sugar. And how do you feel?
Exhausted. Five years of trying and she still wont accept me. She always finds something to cling onto.
Give examples.
Olivia sighed. I cook the wrong way, clean the wrong places, raise the child incorrectly. When Poppy fell ill last month, Ruth told me Im a bad mother.
And Victor?
Hes quiet. Says Mum just worries about her grandchild.
Eleanor set her mug down.
Are you happy in this marriage?
The question caught Olivia off guard. She stared out the window at the twinkling streetlights.
I dont know, Mum. I used to be. Now I feel like an outsider in my own family.
Why never told me before?
I thought it would pass. That Ruth would get used to me.
Seems she never did.
Silence settled as rain began to patter outside.
Mum, when you left your own father, how did your grandmother take you?
Eleanor smiled. Your greatgrandmother Kitty called me her daughter from day one. Said, Now I have two daughters. She treated me better than her own sister Zina.
Why?
Because she saw I loved her son, and heAnd as they clinked their teacups, Olivia finally felt the first genuine warmth of belonging.
