Talk to Me, Muffin
Dont be scared, Muffin! Its alright! Theyll yell a bit more, and then settle down I hope
Little Emily hugged her fuzzy companion tighter and squeezed her eyes shut. She was determined not to be frightened. After all, she was a big girl now. Thats what Granny Betty always said. If youre five, youre not little anymore. For everyone else, she was a big girl now too. She didnt even cry at the doctors when they gave her jabshow embarrassing would that be! But with Muffin, she could be her old self again, just a little girl. Hed seen her every which way. Mum had gifted her the fluffy, slightly wonky bear when she was born. Muffin had become her closest friend. She could tell him anything, and unlike her best mate Ellie, hed never go running to Mrs. Brass, their key worker, with the whole story. Muffin would just look at her with his big round eyes and stay mum. But he always seemed to understand. When she was frightened, like tonight, he soothed her more than anyone else. He was soft and safe and hers. Mum and Dad were family too, but when they shouted at each other like this, they felt spiky and harsh. Emily could never explain it, but it was as though great bramble bushes sprouted up in the house, like in the story of Sleeping Beauty, with thorns everywhere, keeping everyone apart. No matter how they shouted, no one ever heard each other.
Emily never understood why her parents argued. Grown-ups didnt have fallings out, did they? If they were adults, surely they should find a way to talk things throughwhat did Granny Betty call it? Oh, yes, finding a common language. At least, thats what she remembered. But maybe Mum and Dad didnt have silly squabbles like children but something biggerreal, grown-up grudges. Emily had never properly met one of those, but now she was sure they existed. They must be truly scary. Even her little rows with Ellie, as small as they were, could sting all day and make her lose her appetite for ice cream and leave her wanting to do nothing but cry. Real grown-up grudgeshow awful must they be?
Emily glanced around and listened. Quiet, at last. It meant Mum had slipped off to sob in the bathroom, and Dad was probably sulking in the kitchen. Time to go. Emily stood up from behind her bed where shed been huddled and took a deep breath. Her room really was lovely, she thought, as she looked about. Mum had spent ages choosing the pink wallpaper and pretty furniture, always asking Emily what she wanted. There was a white bed with its pink comforter, a wardrobe filled with all manner of dresses, and shelves bending under the weight of so many toys she sometimes forgot what she had. She didnt want to leave her room; it felt nearly peaceful, now that everything was quiet. Muffin gazed at her and Emily sniffed.
I know, I know! I have to. You stay here, alright? Ill do this myself.
Plonking Muffin on her pillow, Emily tiptoed from the room. Mum first, always more difficult. The bathroom door was shut, as usual. Emily gently knocked.
Mum?
Yes, love?
Can I come in?
The door creaked open, and there was Mum, perched on the edge of the bath, just like always.
You alright? Do you need the loo?
No, I just wanted to see you. Emily filled her lungs with as much air as she could and stepped over the threshold. She hated what was coming: Mum would cry again, pulling her into a close hug and promising everything would be alright. And Emily would cry, toonot because she pitied Mum, but because she knew perfectly well that things wouldnt go back to alright, not really. Thats just how things were. A bit of happiness, as Ellie said, and thenbrambles everywhere again.
Emily rubbed at her eyes and gave Mum a searching look.
Why, Mum?
Why what, sweetheart?
Why do you shout at each other all the time? If you dont love each other, shouldnt you stay apart? Thats what Granny Betty says. When Ellie and I had a row, she told me that. If you keep out of each others way, you cant argue.
Louise froze, watching her daughter. Until this moment, Emily had never mentioned the rows at home. Louise thought they went right over her head. Shes only little, what could she know?
Oh, Emily why would you say that? I love your dad
Youre fibbing, Mum.
Emily!
If you loved him, you wouldnt shout like that. You dont shout at me, do you?
Louise faltered. How could she explain? Relationships were complicated. Maybe shouting didnt always mean you were angry or did it? Such a simple questionwhy? How to answer?
Maybe best to sit quietly and think about your behaviour, Emily said, echoing Granny Betty as she wiped away her mums tears with little palms.
Did Granny Betty say that too? Louise gave a watery smile.
Yes! And shes right. Ellie and I made up. We hardly argue now. Only when she tells tales to Mrs. Brass.
Youre growing up so fast Louise pulled her close.
Im not grown-up yet, Mum. Emily stepped back and, almost in a whisper, added, If I were, I wouldnt be so scared.
What are you afraid of? Louise frowned.
What if you and Dad shout again next time and then leave? Go somewhere quiet. You cant stay where its miserable, can you? Its bad for you, isnt it, Mum?
It is… hang on! Youre scared wed leave you? Is that it?
Yes Emily finally burst into tears. And only Muffin will be left. What if he gets lost again? Like in the taxi. Then Ill be all by myself. Granny Betty said shes too old to be Mum now!
Emily, darling, hush now! Ill never leave you! How could I? Youre my child!
So what? When you and Dad are yelling, do you even remember me?
Of course we do… Louise stopped herself, realising Emily was right. In those moments, she didnt think about anyone or anything. Her hurt clouded everything, words lashed out like whips, doing untold harm. When did she become this way?
She remembered meeting Tom in her second year at university, sprinting down a hallway, late for an exam, and knocking over some tall, gangly bloke whose glasses smashed to bits.
Sorry! she called back, dashing through the doors just in time.
She aced the exam, spun out of Uni nearly dancingsummer ahead, the sea, holidays! The gangly young man met her outside, still squinting.
Oi, Express Train! Off to another station on your busy timetable?
He called her that for agesmy little engine, especially when she sulked.
You puff away so funny! I cant even be cross when you do!
The midwives had a good laugh the day he shouted encouragement while she was in labour:
Dont puff, Engine! Push!
Louise wondered: when did he stop? When did he get cross instead?
Mum?
Yes, darling?
Is being together so awful now? Are you cross with him?
Louise ran her fingers through Emilys hairso curly, just like her dad. Shed always wanted a little girl with Toms curls.
As long as not mine! Why does a girl need three feathery strands?
Dont be silly! Yours are lovely!
Because Ive a fantastic hairdresser and a smart bob. Imagine if she ended up with your mess and my eyes! The boys will be queuing up!
It worked out as shed hoped: a golden waterfall of curls and eyes like the sea. Emily would be beautiful one day. Already was! Louise caught herself smiling. What did Mum used to saya good man makes a good dad? Tom was just that. For him, Emily was the sun, moon and stars. That was itEmily, not her. Louise shrugged. What nonsensejealous of your own child! Except it was true. It hurt dreadfully, she thought, and Emily was right.
She recalled how Tom would barge past her at the door, quick peck on the cheek:
Wheres my little princess? There she is! Emily, Ive brought you your favourite chocolate!
Then, after playing with their daughter, hed watch a film with headphones, lost in the action, barely noticing as Louise tucked Emily in and tidied up, her presence unnoticed.
Singing along to childrens songs in the car with Emily, not listening a jot to Louise. Later, Sorry, what? and making her retell everything.
How, when Emily was ill, he took his frustration out on her.
It all traced back to that day, two years ago, Emily burning up with fever. Louise stayed up nearly 24 hours, desperate to bring the heat down. The GP insisted itd pass, but Louise fretted. By evening, exhausted and helpless, she broke down in front of Tom.
Crying wont make her better! Get a grip! What kind of mother are you? he snapped.
She did stop crying. Not because she calmed down, but because something tight inside her snapped in two. She felt uselessher world turned grey and faded, her lips pressed to Emilys forehead, not noting when the fever eased.
Emily got better, and they left that nightmare behind. But the feeling lingeredan invisible wound. A grudge, indeed.
Emily watched her for a moment before quietly announcing, Ill go see Dad, then.
She slipped from her arms, pushed open the door, and left. Dont cry anymore, alright? she said softly, then vanished, leaving Louise trying to piece together what had gone wrongand what still was right.
Of course, there had been happy times. Their dating days, Toms dark eyes behind his glasses, the way hed look at her.
You look at me so strangely
Youre beautiful! I just cant quite believe
What?
Why me? Why would you pick me?
Why not? Youre a catch! shed joke, watching the light come back into his eyes. Back then, she knew what to say. Now, she hadnt a clue.
Emilys birth, her first steps, her first word, their first family holiday. Louises first big success at work after maternity leaveTom baked a cake for the first time ever, overly sweet and only half finished, but so full of meaning.
Dont fret, Ill bake another! Or well keep this one forever on the mantle, like at royal weddings!
Buying their flat togetherempty, not a stick of furniture, celebrating with glasses on the floor, their baby sleeping on an inflatable mattress nearby.
Well have to try for another girl, Tom would say, glass in hand, arm around Louise.
Another one? I thought wed agreed on one child!
Well see. Once weve a house and more rooms, of course.
But they never did have another. The doctors assured Louise everything was in order, and eventually, she just stopped worrying. Troubles snowballedpetty arguments, harsh words landing between them, crowding the flat with their weight. Louise would have been astonished to hear her daughter describe them not as balls but as thorns, long and sharp, straight to the heart.
She splashed cold water on her face. Enough! Balancing the good and bad could go on forever. Emily was right: as long as a grudges alive, nothing moves. Either make peace or move apart. For a second, she pictured life without TomEmily and her on their own. The thought made her shiver.
Emily, meanwhile, had padded to the kitchen, quietly pushing open the door.
Dad?
Emmy! Why arent you in bed?
Its early still! Emily clambered onto his lap. You and Mum shouted…
I know. Im sorry.
Why?
Why what, sweetpea?
Why did you shout?
I Im not sure. It just happened.
Are you cross with Mum? She fixed him with her bright eyes. She should have said all this long ago, instead of just hugging Muffin. How silly. At nursery, if you had a row, Mrs. Brass made you sit, talk it through, and ask: was it really so bad, not being friends anymore?
Did Mum say she was cross with me? Tom sniffed his daughters curls, breathing in the familiar scent.
No, I can tell.
How?
When you love each other, you hug, and Mum smiles. But when youre angry, you shout. Right?
Tom studied her.
Youve grown up so much.
Mum said that too.
What else did Mum say?
That she loves you. And me.
Toms frown faded, the creases on his forehead smoothing away. Emily slipped off his knee.
Im going back to Muffin. He gets nervous on his own.
Go on, then. Tom watched her go, lost in thought. When did they start arguing so much? He couldnt recall. At first, it was all about Emilyof course it was. But over time, the warmth that had attracted him to Louise vanished. Shed always been like sunshinegentle, lifting everyone around her. When did she become so quick to take offence, to snap in return? He felt forever at fault, lacking the smile he used to look forward to every evening. Now, when she answered the door, cool and guarded, he lost heart and turned to Emily for comfort instead. He knew it wasnt right but couldnt stop himself. The day Emily was ill hed been helpless, feeling utterly useless. When, in frustration, he snapped at Louise, her face hardenedafter that, nothing was the same between them. Were only together for Emily. Without her hed blurted out once in the middle of a row. Hed never forget the way Louise froze then, her eyes going blank as she walked away. Afterwards, they lived like housemates, Emily their only link. From then on, Louise withdrew, responding only about Emily, never about themselves. No matter how he tried, nothing brought the old spark back.
He remembered a much earlier conversation with his mother, back when he was fifteen and asking how to act with girls.
Take responsibility, and youll never go far wrong.
How?
Even when shes at fault, ask yourself what you could have done differently. In relationships, both are often at fault, but a man carries a little more. Most women follow your lead, Tom. They need warmth and reassurance, same as you. Shes not made of steel, not a workhorse to carry the lot. If she never complains, still helpif you do, youll be happy too. An hour of spare hands each daythats the true key to happiness in marriage. And never lose the warmth you had before you wed. Shell always remember it. That, my dear, is what lasts.
He smiled shakily at the memory. Thanks, Mum
He stood, looking out at the mosaic of windows lighting up and flickering off in the neighbouring block. Behind each, their own troubles and joys. Would his life become a dull echo chamber without Louise and Emily? No. Never.
Emily couldnt sleep. She lay in bed, one arm around Muffin, the other wound tightly round her mums sleeping neck. Louises tired, sad face was peaceful in sleep. Emily smoothed the little line between her eyebrows that never used to be there. Louise sighed, the crease melted away. Emily hugged her and closed her eyes. Please let tomorrow be a better day, she wished silently, remembering how often shed heard those same words, yet so rarely found them true. Still, she wished harder than ever.
Louise didnt hear the alarm clock; it was in the bedroom anyway. Rushing in the morning, she looked at the silly kitten-shaped clock on Emilys wall and groaned. They were going to be late for nursery. Shed probably be late for work too, though nothing urgent needed her this morning. Somewhere in the kitchen a spoon chimed politely against a mugTom was still home? Odd. Quietly, Louise dressed and slipped through to the bathroom. Perhaps hed leave first, saving hard conversation for later. No luck. Pushing the kitchen door open, there was Tom at the stove, watching the coffee froth.
Morning he said, his eyes rimmed red and dark circles beneath. Hed hardly slept.
Louise started to reply, freezing mid-sentence as she spied the thing on the table: a cake smothered in garish butter roses, unmistakably homemade. Tom must have been up all night. Hed even found the piping nozzles shed lost months ago.
Louise raised her eyes. Tom stepped toward her.
Im sorry, Lou. For everything. Im a rotten husband. Ive not paid you enough attention, and Ive always been so quick to blame you. You two are the very best parts of my life. But if not for you, thered be no Emily either. I know I cant undo everything, but do you think you might try? He waited, anxious.
She stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. Then, stepping forward, she pressed her palm to his lips.
Neither of us is perfect, Tom. Im sorry too. Youre right. I need to think as wellabout a lot of things.
For long?
Oh, a good seven months at least, she replied.
Tom’s face twisted in confusion.
Why are you looking at me like that? Oh yes, youve guessed. You heard me right.
While Tom tried to process what she meant, the kitchen door flew open, and Emily bounced in, clutching Muffin and rubbing her sleepy eyes.
Have you made up now?
Louise and Tom exchanged a look.
Wow! Whys there cake; are we allowed cake for breakfast?
Today we are! Tom pulled Louise close and whispered, I love you. Please, give me a chance?
And you me! Louise whispered back, then turned.
No cake for girls with unbrushed teeth! she teased.
Im going! Muffin and I need two slices, Mumone each.
Bears dont eat cake.
Thats what Im for. Someone has to help.
Years later, Louise would walk through the park, buggy in hand, hurrying to collect Emily from school. Little Harry would stir in the pushchair, whimpering for attention. Louise would lean over, but warm, familiar arms would circle her from behind.
Ive got this, Tom would say, scooping up their son. You head to the gates; well wait right here.
Louise would smile, thinking of Emilys holidays beginning tomorrowthe tickets were bought, the suitcases half packed, and Harry would see the sea for the first time. Shed remember these last three years: all the trials, their shaky attempts at patching things up, the two months she and Emily spent at her parents, the reconciliation that finally happened thanks in no small part to Toms mother, and the years since. Losing Grandma Betty was a hard blow, but then Harry arrived, with his first steps, first wordDaddy. Tom, grinning, would tease, A good lad! Showed loyalty!
Emily, proud and serious at her first school assembly, wearing bows as big as her face, braved her nerves and marched in behind the teacher.
Mum!
Em! Howd it go?
Brilliant! Miss Preston says weve got two perfect studentsme and Ellie!
Well done! Louise hugged her close.
Wheres Dad? And Harry?
In the park, waiting for us.
Good. And Muffin?
Where would we be without Muffin! laughed Louise. Hes in the buggy.
Emily smiled. Shed given her favourite bear to Harrygood things were for sharing with those you love most. But she still missed Muffin and only told Mum so.
Watching her parents, walking ahead cradling Harry and chatting, Emily leaned towards the buggy and whispered:
Do you think everythings alright now, Muffin?
Muffin looked back with his big, round, silent eyes. But somehow, Emily was sure she knew the answer.
Because sometimes, even on the brambliest days, love means starting over, forgiving, and choosing to understand one anotheragain and again.
