THE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
Margaret Fletcher set a great platter with roast duck on the beautifully dressed dining table and let out a sigh. Her sons and their wives could turn up any moment now.
Her youngest had only just tied the knotwith a rather modest wedding, mind. Well, that seems to be what young people do these days. Margaret could hardly relate; shed have thrown a proper shindig, given half a chance. When she got married, she and her late husband just dashed off to the register office. It took them a year to afford even a pair of thin gold bands. Shed wanted something special for the children, but, well, times change.
Theres only one real flaw with hershes just so well-groomed! Margaret had once confessed. Mind you, the daughter-in-law had already planned a little heart-to-heart with her.
Her new daughter-in-law, Emily, was, on the whole, a decent, likeable girl. She had a good effect on young George, her son. Helped him find a brilliant job, too. Always encouraging him up the career ladder. Hed made it to thirty without much ambition, perfectly happy to let everything fall in his lap. Margaret had started to fret, but thankfully things were looking up.
Still, there was one little thing about Emilyshe was just so impeccably kept. Always off to salons for haircuts, highlights, massages, manicuresthe lot. A fortune spun on pampering, and frankly Margaret didnt think that was quite fitting for married women who ought to put family first.
When the kids arrived, would she nip out for a pedicure instead of getting new shoes for her son? Margaret couldnt approve. Shed always seen to her own needs lastespecially after her husband passed away, leaving her supporting two grown sons who, regardless, always seemed to need their mother.
Her musings were interrupted by the doorbellthe young clan had arrived. Emily swept into the lounge looking like a cover girl: hair freshly styled, manicure spot on, hardly a scrap of makeup thanks to the magician hands of some facialist.
Emily, you look absolutely stunning! Margaret said, and she meant it, though she couldnt quite keep a hint of criticism out of her voice. Is that a new suit?
Yes, just picked it up yesterday, the girl replied cheerfully. Had a good bonus at work.
Well, you know, Margaret couldnt resist, best to squirrel away bonuses, any extra earnings, even the Christmas bonusstick it aside for a rainy day. Trust me, it always comes in handy.
Emily kept quiet. She genuinely liked her mother-in-law, the sort of woman whod poured her whole self into her family. But, truth be told, Emily believed that the rainy day arrives precisely when you fuss about it too much.
The evening was rather pleasant. Of course, Margaret managed a few subtle jabs about unnecessary spending. Emily picked up on it straight awaythose comments were flying right at her.
And when was the last time you had a manicure, Mrs. Fletcher? she finally asked.
I erm Margaret floundered. Never, I suppose. I do a bit myself at home, just keep my hands clean. I never needed more.
No one else clocked the brief exchange. But Emily, as a woman, felt a pang of sympathy. Raising two sons, who now earned perfectly respectable salaries, and shed never once considered spending anything on herself!
George, does your mum ever do anything just for herself? she asked her husband on the drive home.
Well, you know. Cooks, as you saw with that feast. Watches the telly. Sees friends now and then. Why?
Shes never had a proper treat! Take her outcinema, theatre, a nice meal.
Oh, she doesnt want all that, George waved it off. Youre overthinking it.
Emily went quiet. She compared Margaret to her own mother, whoeven in lean timesalways managed a smart haircut, a new dress, and never missed renewing her theatre subscription just for pleasure.
Emily decided Margaret deserved a little taste of living for herself, not just sitting by the TV waiting for grandchildren to descend and sap away whatevers left of her energy.
So, a few days later, Emily phoned and coaxed Margaret to join her for a walk, a coffee, andwhile they were at ita quick spin through the beauty salon. There was a facialist appointment to keep, and perhaps Margaret might try something, anything, of her liking.
Oh, dont be silly, Margaret fretted. You go on. Ill just wait for you in the foyer or outside.
Theres no need to wait, really! Even half an hourget a hand massage and a manicure?
After some gentle persuasion, Margaret finally relented. Emily rang ahead to her regular salon, explained the situation in code-red detail.
Ladies, please treat my mother-in-law like royalty! And do gently recommend something extrapedicure, mask, whatever. If she asks about money, tell her its all sorted and just enjoy. Honestly, help me out and you might just gain a loyal customer.
Come the day, Emily delivered a mildly protesting Margaret into the hands of the professionals.
Half an hour, you said? Margaret asked anxiously. And the bill? How much will it be?
As one of the lovely staff whisked Margaret off, Emily collapsed in the lounge, scrolling on her phoneno treatments planned for herself that day.
Despite being a weekend, she set to answering some emails, might as well use the time.
Margaret emerged a full two hours laterlooking several years younger and thoroughly relaxed. Those salon girls knew their business.
Oh, Emily, what a session! They gave me all sortscoffee, herbal tea Everyones so nice! It must have cost a fortune, though?
Special offer today! piped up the receptionist. Bring a friend and her first treatments free. So, nothing to pay at all!
Off they strolled to a nearby café. Margaret sipped her cappuccino and eased back into her chair.
So, how about we make these girls days out a regular thing? Emily suggested. Theyve brilliant offers for members. Fancy it?
I never knew how lovely it could be, Margaret admitted dreamily.
You should have tried it years ago!
Well, back then The children were little. My late husbandbless himalways kept tight reins on spending. Wasnt encouraged, really. Then, after, there just didnt seem a point.
Well now theres every reason. To keep me companyI get bored on my own.
Oh, well for your sake, sometimes.
And so it wenta new tradition was born. Margaret started joining her daughter-in-law for a touch of self-care. Diplomatic Emily gently refreshed her wardrobe, always slicing the prices in her explanations.
She even convinced George to invite his mum out to a restaurant. Eventually all four caught a film together. That Christmas, Emily gave Margaret a season ticket to the local theatre.
Youve found the fountain of youth! Margarets neighbours chorused.
Oh, the young people set the pace, she replied shyly, grinning.
To Margaret, it genuinely felt as if, nowat last retired, mother of two grown menher girlhood was just getting started.
