Again a girl?! bellowed my motherinlaw, Margaret Stevens, her voice cracking like a kettle. Weve done everything for you! We paid for your schooling, raised you into a proper lady, and you cant even give my son an heir!
Ivy went pale. Shed just come back from the maternity ward, still weak after her third pregnancy, and now Margarets tirade filled the small flat with venom. If shed been there for the discharge, the whole atmosphere would have been ruined.
Useless lot, just breeding lazy parasites! Margaret snarled.
Ivys patience snapped.
How can you speak like that about my grandchildren? Have you lost your mind? Margaret snapped back, her eyes flashing. At least my Andrew had better luck with his wife than you did.
Why are you in my house at all? Get out! No one invited you! Ivy shouted.
Ivy hadnt invited Margaret at all. Shed barely opened the front door, still cradling baby Blythe, while waiting for her older daughter to turn up the girl had promised to stop by and lend a hand. Ivy glanced at the peephole, saw only the hall, and swung the door open without a second thought. Who could it be?
Of course, Margaret didnt get past the threshold. She stood in the hallway, hurling accusations at her daughterinlaw. First she asked, A boy or a girl? a question she should have asked sooner then launched into a tirade.
Summoning her courage, Ivy slammed the door shut right in Margarets face, let out a heavy sigh, and flopped onto the sofa. The shouting woke baby Blythe, and Ivy had to soothe her while waiting for her older sister to arrive, hoping shed tidy up, cook a meal and deal with the laundry.
—
If Ivy and Andrew hadnt gotten pregnant, they probably would never have married. Andrew was a promising secondyear university student; Ivy was a year younger, had dropped out of college and taken a job. Theyd met through mutual friends Andrew was a friend of Ivys colleague. When Ivys parents learned she was expecting, they pushed for a wedding. The couple tied the knot quickly despite Andrews parents objections. Margaret immediately began warning that freespirited Ivy would ruin Andrews bright future. She claimed, Andrews got a scholarship for a naval officer course; Ivy will only drag him down.
She seemed to think both her future grandchild and Ivy would be a burden. When their first child, Blythe, was born, Margaret kept repeating, If youre going to start having children so early, make sure theres a boy for my sons line! Blythe was barely six months old then.
Both families pitched in: Ivys mother babysat, Andrews parents sent money. Naturally, Margaret expected lavish thanks perhaps a toast or a song. She never directed her resentment at Andrew, only at Ivy.
Wed have nothing without us! Were feeding you and baby Milly, and you cant even afford nappies without us, Margaret complained one morning. We used to wash diapers all day ourselves, back in the day
Ivy mutely repeated thank you for the tenth time that morning.
Margaret never liked Ivy. Whenever she visited, she found fault in everything a scuff on the kettle, a halfempty fridge, the dust on the mantle.
Youre breathing heavy, arent you? Margaret once remarked, noticing Ivys laboured sighs while Andrew was at sea. Probably because you never clean properly.
Later, Margaret hauled a small sideboard from the kitchen and set it in front of the cupboard.
What are you doing? she demanded.
She climbed onto the sideboard and began wiping every surface she could reach, pointing at the dust.
See? I told you theres a mountain of dust! No wonder its hard to breathe. Do you even tidy up?
Ivy lowered her head, refusing to argue it was never worth it.
You think you can sit at home and let the house get filthy? Youre not even working! Margaret continued, adding that Ivys maternity leave was a joke, especially with Blythe already a year and a half old.
—
When Blythe started nursery, Ivy blinked at how three years of maternity leave had slipped by. She hadnt completed any formal education, had no work experience, and felt stuck. Andrew was doing well, preparing for his diploma, and everyone expected great things for him.
Ivy envied her peers, who seemed to glide through life without a care. She decided she must study something, even if just a certificate. Her parents backed her, and when she told Andrew, he smiled and said she was doing the right thing.
Margaret, as usual, turned up unannounced she felt entitled, since shed helped them with a rental deposit. She caught Ivy rummaging through piles of paperwork.
What are you doing? Margaret asked, a mix of surprise and disdain.
I need copies of my exam results, but I cant find them, Ivy replied, not realizing shed triggered Margarets fury.
What exam results?! Margaret shrieked, making Ivy jump. You think you can just go back to school?
I want to apply to university, Ivy said, trying to stay calm.
Margarets tone was icy. Studying is fine, but who will look after the child?
Blythe will go to the nursery, Ivy replied.
Still, you should have other priorities. Education is for the single, not mothers! Margaret snapped. Ivys lips pressed together in hurt.
And when will you have a son? Perhaps our Andrew will become a captain someday, and well need a line of seafarers! Margaret added.
I want to learn, Ivy whispered.
Think about it before its too late, Margaret muttered, clearly recalling how she had pushed Andrew into an early marriage that had ruined his youth.
Ivy, feeling a surge of defiance, shot back, A son needs an educated mother, someone worthy to look up to.
Margaret fell silent, then whispered through clenched teeth, If youre so keen, study, but dont count on us for a penny.
Fortune smiled: Ivy won a place on a local councilfunded course, studied accounting, and got a modest job. Andrew spent his months at sea, leaving the household responsibilities to Ivy, who balanced work, study, and motherhood with grit. Margarets complaints never stopped, but Ivy learned to tune them out.
—
Years passed. Blythe thrived at school; teachers called her a bright girl. Ivy and Andrew kept their jobs, and Margaret persisted with her unsolicited advice.
Why does your child spend every afternoon with books? Margaret asked one visit, pretending shed just heard Andrew was back from a long voyage. Take a walk, get some fresh air.
Well finish the homework in ten minutes and then go outside, Ivy replied. Shes already in dance classes.
Dance? Thats nonsense for a proper young lady! Girls shouldnt be twirling around; its not ladylike, Margaret huffed. Whats next, football?
Its folk dancing, most of her class does it, Ivy explained.
Doesnt matter. Its still frivolous. Soon the lads will be around, and youll have a mess on your hands! Margaret ranted.
I wont stand for this, Ivy snapped. Dont raise your voice at Blythe. If you cant keep your tongue in check, leave!
Andrew, returning from the deck, intervened. Mum, could you stop? Youre putting the family under pressure.
Look what shes raising! Margaret shrieked. Andrew winced.
Dont speak like that about my wife. Were doing our best, he said.
Margaret stormed out, muttering about not receiving another penny from Ivy. Andrews earnings at sea meant they no longer needed any financial help from the Stevens family, so Margarets intimidation tactics fell flat.
Life settled into a rhythm until Blythe finished Year3 and Ivy discovered she was pregnant again. Andrew was over the moon, practically carrying her around the kitchen.
Expecting a boy? Ivy asked with a bitter smile.
Doesnt matter to me, Andrew replied, grinning. Just that the babys healthy.
Margaret, however, kept droning about needing a grandson to carry on the family name. Make sure its a boy, not another girl, she whispered to Ivy.
When little Milly was born, Margaret was so upset she didnt speak to either Ivy or Andrew for two weeks. She missed the birth entirely, refusing to even attend the discharge. Andrew felt hurt, thinking his mother had turned her back on his child. Their relationship soured; Margarets accusations about money and gratitude grew louder, and she began calling Andrew a bad father.
Family gatherings became strained. Andrews father, a calm man, tried to keep the peace, but Margarets relentless meddling whether over Blythes haircut or Millys breakfast choices continued until the Stevens family finally put distance between themselves. They managed to pay off their mortgage, and Ivy kept her accounting job, which, while modest, allowed her to juggle work and home.
Blythe went on to university, married, and set up her own home. Milly earned a scholarship and moved to another city for her studies. Ivy and Andrew lived quietly together, their days only disturbed by the occasional call from Margaret.
One morning Ivy felt a strange rumble in her stomach. She blamed it on the takeaway lunch shed shared with colleagues. A week later she realized she craved salty foods pickles, olives, sauerkraut. Whats gotten into you? Andrew teased as he prepared for another long stint at sea.
Its just a craving, Ivy replied, attributing it to age. Shed never before wanted a pickle for more than a day.
Later, a routine scan confirmed she was pregnant again, this time at an advanced stage. When she told Andrew, he laughed, thinking she was joking, until the doctors words sank in.
Get off the ship as soon as you can! he said, his voice trembling with excitement.
Ivy called Margaret, her tone sharp. Whats this about you trying to ruin my husbands career?
What are you on about? Margaret asked, bewildered.
I heard Andrew wants to cut his voyage short because of the baby. What have you concocted, you dreamer?
I havent invented anything, Ivy retorted. Andrew will be a father again soon enough.
Margaret hung up, and Andrew soon explained that his next deployment would still last at least a month, meaning he couldnt return immediately.
Ivy, accepting that shed be a mother for the third time, suggested Andrew keep his schedule. Why make a fuss over nothing? she wrote.
Dont worry, Ill be back as planned. Blythe and her husband are nearby if you need help, Andrew replied. Theres no point losing money on a shortened trip.
When Margaret finally learned that Andrew would stay at sea, she softened a bit, checking in on Ivys health over the phone, though Ivy kept her answers brief.
One day, a relative called to ask if Ivy needed any assistance. Margaret, eager to stay relevant, blurted, Did you have an ultrasound? Did you find out if its a boy?
No, Ivy answered, regaining composure. Id rather keep it a surprise.
Margaret, suddenly cheerful, began sending gifts through Blythe, always hinting that a grandson would secure the familys future.
When the day finally arrived, Milly joined the family in the hospital. Margaret, true to form, showed up, made a scene, and left shortly after, declaring the baby a girl and sighing at her missed chance for a male heir.
Blythe later called the intercom, pulling her mother from the discharge and driving her home. Mum, what happened? I saw Granny in the hallway, clutching my arm and whining that everything was lost, she said.
Its nothing, Ivy replied, forcing a smile. She just expected a son and got disappointed. Shes gone now.
Blythe hugged her. Dont let her ruin our day. Were happy without her.
When Andrew finally docked, Blythe complained about Margarets intrusions, but Andrew, tired of the drama, let it go. The family eventually settled into a quieter rhythm, visiting Margaret only when necessary, remembering the old saying: you reap what you sow.
