Help at Home for His Mother

Help for His Mum
Alex, I get it, but I didnt sign up to be your mums cook, hissed Emily as she tossed a tin of peas into the trolley. Honestly, all I want right now is to drop everything, get in the car, and drive home. You promised me a quiet evening for the three of us, and now here we are, slaving away for a battalion of relatives while your mother just sits there! Is this supposed to be normal?
Alex ducked his head and turned away, acting as though he were thoroughly absorbed in reading the ingredients on a packet of crab sticks. He looked like a guilty dog caught in the act.
Em, keep your voice down, people are watching its embarrassing, he muttered, trying to take her arm, but she quickly pulled it away. Mum just underestimated how much she could handle, you know. It happens. Lets just get everything on the list, get back, and finish off those salads. Please, do it for me. And for the holiday.
Underestimatedwhat a charming way to put it.
Emily gritted her teeth in frustration. She knew perfectly well Alexs mum knew exactly what she was doing.
It had all started a week ago with a phone call. Mrs. Valerie Smith rang up to wish the young couple a Happy New Year and suddenly decided to invite them over.
My dears, she crooned in such a sweet voice it was enough to give you a sugar rush just listening. Why dont you come to mine for Christmas? I miss you terribly! Just the three of us, reminiscing, a proper family evening. Its so lonely here on my own, surrounded by four walls.
Emily immediately felt uneasy. Her gut told her there was a catch. Mrs. Smiths quiet family get-togethers always ended up the same wayan interrogation about grandchildren.
The very first time Mrs. Smith raised this topic, Emily and Alex weren’t even married yet.
Emily love, have you thought about children yet? she suddenly asked when they were alone.
Emily was completely thrown.
Well she started hesitantly, scrambling to come up with an answer. I want kids, but not just yet. Alex and I are only dating and
Oh, Emily, a ring in the registry does nothing to stop babies, Mrs. Smith waved her hand dismissively. But age time is ticking, youre not getting younger. And neither am I I may die before I ever meet my grandchildren.
At first, Emily stumbled through awkward jokes, then she started biting back. Eventually, without realising, she just began avoiding Mrs. Smith altogether to keep her sanity intact.
So it turned out they barely knew or spoke to each other. Emily would happily have continued like that, but Alex intervened. He was far too soft-hearted and devoted to his mother to say no.
Em, come on, lets go, he pleaded after another call, looking earnestly into her eyes. Shes getting old. Shes genuinely lonely. Just this once, for me. Please.
Alex, Im not stopping you. Go. You know I dont bother with Christmas.
Just think of it as a normal family dinner, he insisted. Mum wants to build bridges. Were family
Emily resisted for ages but eventually agreed. She hoped to get away with a polite smile, a cup of tea, and some cake. How wrong she was
Everything went askew the day before. Mrs. Smith demanded they arrive at eight in the morning to spend more time together. Emily was resolutely against itshe wanted a weekend lie-in. With some effort, she managed to push the time back to ten.
They arrived finally, bleary-eyed, and crossed the threshold to nothing. There was no smell of roasting meat or sizzling fat. Mrs. Smith greeted them wearing a shabby dressing gown and curlers.
Finally! Fancy turning up at half ten! Guests are at the door and nothings done. Shouldve got up sooner! You lot will have to help me now.
Emily froze, still clutching her coat.
Guests? she asked, bewildered.
Oh love, of course Lucy and Peter are stopping over from Manchester, couldnt say no. Aunt May from upstairs will come by. My niece promised to pop in How could I turn them all away? Stop chatting, into the kitchen, were running out of time!
And then it hit Emilythe whole disaster. They hadnt been invited as guests; they were expected to be the unpaid staff.
The holiday turned into a nightmare. Mrs. Smith instantaneously switched from host to drill sergeant, armed herself with a dishcloth, and rushed about issuing orders. She didnt lift a finger for the actual cooking. Worse, she hadnt even bought everything she neededsomething was missing, and some things had been forgotten entirely. She handed Alex the shopping list and sent the pair off to Tesco.
Emily was genuinely tempted to bolt, but stayed for her husbands sake.
Soon enough, everyone was set to their workstations. Emily at the chopping board, Alex at the pile of potatoes. Instead of the promised festive atmosphere, they received a set of tasks. They worked flat out for five hours, with barely a break.
Around four oclock, guests began to arrive; smart, fragrant with perfume, all cheerful. Emily and Alex, meanwhile, were sweaty and frazzled. They shuffled to the table at the last minute, flushed, clothes stained, wobbling with exhaustion Celebrating was the last thing on their minds.
Mrs. Smith, meanwhile, had changed into a decent dress and applied lipstick. Now she sat at the head of the table, graciously receiving compliments.
Oh, Valerie, youve outdone yourself! Such a fab hostess, so much food! gushed a woman unknown to Emily, scooping up Emilys homemade potato salad.
We do our best. All for the guests, all for you, Mrs. Smith replied modestly with a smile.
And just to top it off, Mrs. Smith launched again into her lecture about children, raising her glass and giving a whole toast on the “biological clock.” If Alex hadnt pressed his knee against Emilys, she might have tipped the bowl of coleslaw onto the table.
That was the last time, Emily told her husband, coolly, as they drove home late that evening. Im not stepping foot in your mums house again. If you want to help out, knock yourself out, but alone. Im done.
Alex didnt argue. He merely nodded in silence.
Three months passed. Emilys back had long since stopped aching from that disastrous day, but the resentment lingered. So when, at the start of March, Alex mentioned his mum was inviting them again, Emily clenched her jaw.
She wants us for Mothers Day. Says this will be just us three. Maybe Aunt Linda might pop in, but only for a moment to say hello, said Alex, noticing Emilys pointed gaze and hastily adding, But you dont have to if you dont want to. Im just passing it on.
Alex braced himself for shouting, for accusations of ruined holidays. But Emily only gazed thoughtfully out the window, then
Fine. Tell your mum well come.
Really, Em? You said
I remember what I said. If I refuse, shell go back to calling us every day, like last time. I want to make sure she stops inviting us, stops guilt-tripping and crying on the phone. Listen Just trust me if you dont want to be chained to her stove again.
Alex looked away, deciding not to press for details, settling on neutral ground
Mothers Day, contrary to Mrs. Smiths expectations, didnt begin with an alarm and frantic preparations. Emily and Alex lounged in bed, watching a silly sitcom and eating ice cream straight from the tub. No rush, no makeup, no hunt for smart shirts.
At noon, Mrs. Smith began to worry and called them.
Hello, Mrs. Smith? You wont believe it weve only just woken up, Emily said, feigning remorse. Was up late with friends last night, slept through the alarm.
Oh Emily, Ive been waiting for you! Mrs. Smith grumbled. Hurry up, the roast goose is getting cold.
Were getting ready, honestly! An hour, an hour and a half max, and well be at yours! Emily promised, ending the call and returning to her show.
Alex watched his wife nervously, but said nothing. Better to stay snug in bed than sweat over his mums kitchen again.
By one oclock, the phone rang again. This time, Emily paused before picking up.
Were nearly heading out, Mrs. Smith! Just calling a cabwill be at yours in a flash! she chirped into the phone without moving.
An hour later, the story changed again.
There was a car crasha saloon rammed into a bus, roads completely blocked, Emily told Mrs. Smith, lowering the volume of the TV. Horrendous traffic. Should clear up soon.
By half past three, Mrs. Smith had had enough.
Where on earth are you?! How long are you going to take?! You couldve walked here twice over!
Emily could hear laughter and chatter in the background. She narrowed her eyes.
Mrs. Smith, are you not alone? Emily asked directly.
Alone, not alone whats the difference? Mrs. Smith snapped. Relatives came to say hello. Cant very well throw them out. Are you coming or not?! Im barely standing, its difficult by myself!
Obvious. Mrs. Smith was again waiting for free labour, and her plans had clearly gone awry when she had to cook everything herself.
You know what Were not coming, Emily said calmly.
What?!”
Im feeling ill, mustve got motion sick on the way. Were turning round and heading home.
Silence at first, then Mrs. Smith exploded.
How dare you?! Ungrateful girl! Im here slaving away at the stove since morning, who did I do it for?! For whom?! Youre doing this on purpose! What if I have a stroke?! Alex, give Alex the phone!
Alex heard it all, yet didnt move. He lowered his gaze. Emily thought for a second, pressed the red button to hang up, then switched her phone off.
Just as suspected, she told her husband. She has a crowd again, and we were expected to be the help. Let your mum manage her guests herself, since she invited everyone.
That evening, they went to Emilys parents.
The difference was obvious from the start. There was bustle, but the vibe was totally different. No one sat there looking sour, waiting for someone else to serve them. Emilys mum was dealing with a mountain of salad, her dad chopping sandwiches.
Oy, the youngsters are here! her father greeted them, smiling. Alex, bring some chairs from the bedroom, or youll have nowhere to sit.
Alex went off to help, Emily joined her mum at the table.
Yes, they helped out, but willingly. It didnt feel like exploitationit felt natural, everyone pitching in to make it nice for all.
At the table, Emily smiled at her mum and watched Alex chatting happily with her dad, feeling her tension slowly dissolve. Justice finally served. It was harsh, and yes there had been a row, but Mrs. Smith wouldnt dare pull that move again. The bridge between Emily and her mother-in-law was burnt, but that was far better than being an unpaid servant on someone elses big day.