Emily, has Thomas mentioned it yet? the mother asked, stepping into the kitchen with a brisk smile. Listen, well have up to twenty guests, so well start prepping in the evening. Ill be there early, around six oclock.
What? In the evening? Emily replied, arching an eyebrow. I never agreed to that.
Hold on, Im not finished, the mother said. Thomas already has a shopping list; he promised to buy everything.
Thomas had always been the goto helper for his older sister, Claire. By the time she hit thirty, shed been married and divorced twice, each split blamed on the wrong bloke. Their mother, Margaret Hart, had drilled into her son from a young age:
Your sister needs help.
And Thomas delivered. Hed handed over cash when Claire temporarily lost her job, patched up her rented flat, and ferried her belongings after each breakup.
Then Thomas got married.
Emily, his wife, put up with it at first. But when Claire, for the fifth time that year, asked to borrow their car for a few days because it had given up again, Emily, firm but gentle, said:
Thomas, enough is enough. We need the car this weekendwe had plans, didnt we?
Whats the problem? Cant she walk? Thomas asked.
No. She cant walk to my parents cottage. Theyve sent us two buckets of pickles, and I thought you heard me mention that.
Right Ive heard something, but you know Claires situation is urgent.
Again? What now?
Im not sure, Thomas mused, but she needs more.
No, Thomas. This time I wont bend. Either you refuse her, or you buy me a car. Im tired of the tram when you could just drive me where I need to go.
Thomas was about to call Claire to say no when Margaret cut in:
Are you going to abandon your sister for your wife? Shes all you have! Who else will help her?
And so Thomas kept helping, despite the spats with Emily. One day they went without speaking for a few days, and Thomas finally snapped:
Whats with the silence? Are you mad?
Really? It took you three days to figure that out? Emily shot back.
I just cant understandwhat exactly?
Emily laughed at his confusion.
Seriously? You dont get it? Your sister borrowed the car for a weekend trip to a friends cottage. I thought youd just give her a lift, but you stayed there for two days. Does that worry you?
Whats there to worry about? We had a few drinks, her ex showed up, we all got a bit nostalgic. I thought Id be a decent host, not a fool.
You couldve at least called.
You couldve called too, Thomas retorted.
I did! Your phone was off. Imagine my nerves, not knowing where my husband was. And he just decides to take a break from me, Emily fumed.
Dont make things up, Thomas waved a hand, indicating his phone was ringing.
He stepped onto the balcony, took the call thereno point in the wife hearing another chat with the sister.
Hey, brother! Claire chirped. My anniversary is in two weeksthirty years! You know what I mean, right?
Thomas glanced at Emily, who was stirring a pot.
So what do you want? he asked.
You get me! I want to celebrate at your place. Your living room is huge. My rented flat is cramped, and the landlord would have a fit. A restaurant is pricey.
Maybe a café? I can chip in whatever needed.
Youve gone off the deep end! This is an anniversary! You expect me to foot the bill for a venue when you have a flat? Im not a millionaires daughter, after all.
Let me talk to Emily first. Its her flat too, maybe shes got plans.
Its too late! Claire interrupted. Ive told everyone the partys at your house. Clear the flat for the whole day, okay? Mum says shell handle the cooking.
Thomas sighed, covering his face with his hand, trying to think of a way out. His phone buzzed againthis time a message from his mother.
Claire said to draft a menu. Heres the list of dishes. We still need the groceries. Ask Emily to help, and dont forget the cooking.
At that moment Emily, oblivious to Claires impending party, settled into her armchair, remote in hand, ready for her favourite series. When Thomas entered the room, eyes lowered, she instantly knew what was up.
What now? she asked calmly, pausing the show.
Emily, listen Claires anniversarythirty years. She wants to celebrate.
Emily lifted her head.
Well, let her celebrate. Are we going to forbid it?
Thomas scratched his head.
Its not that. She wants to celebrate at our place.
What? In our flat? Emily snapped to her feet. Hold on. Our flat?
Yes, but just one evening. She says the restaurant is expensive and her home is too cramped
And you agreed?
I said Id talk to you first! But Claires already invited everyone, and Mums already planning the menu
Emily closed her eyes, inhaled heavily.
Thomas, are you a grownup or just a messenger for Claires wishes?
What are you starting?
Im starting, Emily said with irony, holding up his phone. And nobody even called me? This is my flat, not a pit stop for your relatives. Claire wants a party in my house, Im supposed to help her and Mum, and no one asked me?
Just then her phone rang.
Oh, look whos cheering, she sneered, waving the handset at Thomas.
Emily, has Thomas told you? the mother interjected. Well have up to twenty guests, so well start cooking in the evening. Ill be there around six, the day before.
What? In the evening? Emily laughed skeptically. I didnt sign up for that.
Hold on, Im not done. Thomas already has a shopping list, he promised to buy everything.
Fine but wheres the money coming from?
Thomas promised to help, Margaret replied briefly.
So you want to turn my flat into a restaurant and well foot the bill? Emily couldnt hold back.
Claire isnt a stranger! Its just one daysome chopping, salads, sandwiches youre the lady of the house!
Margaret, I just found out about this. I didnt give permission for Claires birthday in my flat.
You keep saying my flat. You and Thomas are married. Everythings shared! the mother snapped.
If it were Thomass flat, youd say something different. Then Id be just a kept woman, Emily retorted.
Enough nonsense. Conversations over. By Friday we need all the supplies, Margaret said, hanging up.
What was that? Emily asked Thomas, hearing the brief beeps.
Stop playing the victim! Thomas finally shouted. Youve been told youre wrong. Admit your mistake and stop digging your heels in.
Emily was stunned. She stood, opened the wardrobe, and silently pulled out a massive gym bag. She then went to the bedroom, opened the chest of drawers, and methodically folded Thomass tshirts and jeans.
Meanwhile Thomas, feeling triumphant, flung open the fridge, grabbed a beer, slammed the door, and plonked himself in front of the TV as if nothing had happened.
He assumed Emily would cool off and life would return to normal. He even turned on the football, convinced shed wander in and call him to dinner. He was wrong.
Half an hour later Emily stood in the hallway with a shopping bag, the gym bag now bursting with Thomass stuff behind her. Thomas left the lounge to get another drink, only to run into his wife.
Whats this? What kind of drama is this? he muttered. What theatre are you staging?
Emily stared at him coldly.
This isnt a play, Thomas. Its the end. Im done being a shadow in my own life, a sidekick in our flat, a fallback for your mothers and sisters whims. If you want to be a good son and brother, go back to your mother. Help her plan the party. Im sure shell gladly give you a corner in her living room.
Youre serious? he stepped toward her. Im not going back.
Absolutely serious, Emily nodded. I dont want you returning. Ive tolerated enough to start questioning my own sanity. Thats enough. If you havent learned to respect me in three years, it wont get any better.
Emily you cant just ruin everything in one breath!
You cant ruin whats already fallen apart.
Thomas sputtered, still not grasping that Emily had made up her mind.
And thats that, Emily added, gesturing to the heap of shirts and jeans. You can thank me later. Get out right now.
He tried to speak, but Emily opened the front door. Thomas stood there, his face flushed with anger, cheeks burning, lips set in a hard line. He still hoped Emily might soften, but her calm only fueled his fury.
Well, thats lovely! he shouted. Think youll find someone better? Good luck finding another me!
Emily huffed and took a step back.
Finding someone like you now thatll be a challenge. Thank heavens.
Youll regret this! Thomas yelled, snatching the bag. Youll be on your knees when you realise nobody wants to talk to you! Without me youre nobody!
If nobody means a person with their own flat, a job, and zero tolerance for a relatives entitlement, then Im happy being no one.
Thomas stormed out, and Emily was left alone. She breathed deeply, walked to the window, pulled back the curtain, and watched as her ex shoved the bag into the boot of a taxi with his foot.
Months passed.
The divorce was messy. Thomas tried to paint Emily as greedy and mercenary. The biggest fight was over the car theyd bought together. He claimed hed paid for it all; Emily argued shed only been a passenger.
Your Honour, I funded the purchase, the registration is in my name, Thomas asserted. My wife contributed nothing!
Emily calmly spread a folder of bank statements, transfer receipts, and a signed deposit agreement onto the table.
Im not contesting his share, but I wont surrender mine either, she said.
The judge ruled in her favour.
Thomas wasnt pleased. Hed already considered the car his. Now hed have to sell it and split the proceeds. He left the courtroom with a scowl twisted by rage.
At home, his mothers voice rang out.
You idiot! You gave her everything! The car! The flat! Why didnt you even get a decent solicitor?
On top of that, Thomas had taken out a loan to cover Claires anniversary dinner at a restaurant, because hed helped her with the flat. Now he was stuck in his motherinlaws guest room, a cramped spare bedroom.
Emily finally slept peacefully for the first time in ages. She decided she was still young enough to move on from men like Thomas. Plenty of decent blokes were out therejust had to know whos who.
