Set the table
“Lucy, see you in three days! And don’t forget to make your famous meat pie. It’s so delicious…” Lucy’s mother-in-law, Margaret, chirped cheerfully over the phone.
However, Lucy wasn’t feeling cheerful. She ended the call with a sigh and sank into a chair. Easter was just around the corner, and her husband John’s entire family was gathering at their place.
“You have such a spacious flat, there’ll be room for everyone. We used to cram into our tiny rooms. But here, there’s plenty of space for our big family to meet,” Margaret had declared two years ago.
Now Lucy was starting to despise their big and roomy flat, which they still had a long mortgage to pay off. Just because of the flat, the whole mob of relatives came over to Lucy’s, made a mess, and kept her up at night.
John walked into the kitchen and kissed his wife on the forehead.
“Talked to mum?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s happening here again. John,” she pleaded, “couldn’t you have a word with her?”
John frowned.
“Lucy, we’ve talked about this. Mum really likes you, she loves your cooking! How can I tell her not to come? Plus, she’s retired now. You can’t expect her to cook for everyone, she doesn’t have the energy. She raised four kids, you’ve got to give her credit. She deserves a break.”
Every time, Lucy gave in to her husband’s reasoning. But deep down, she thought, “Who’s going to take care of me? Why do I have to feed and serve a whole crowd on a holiday?”
Complaining seemed pointless. Lucy didn’t want to quarrel and ruin family harmony. So, the next day, she went shopping for groceries. And the day before Easter, she threw herself into cooking.
Into the late night, Lucy stood at the stove, preparing food for everyone. All of John’s siblings and their families were coming. That meant over ten people!
“Why am I doing this alone?” she asked John, kneading dough for the pie. “Can’t someone come and help? Maybe one of the sisters-in-law?”
John looked at her in surprise.
“You know my brothers can’t cook, nor can I. And the sisters-in-law… They’re busy with kids or work. I can’t just pull them away, Lucy. That wouldn’t be right.”
“But you can pull me away? I work too, even if it’s from home. It’s not any less tiring, John.”
“Don’t be mad,” her husband said, hugging her waist. “Everything will be alright. We’ll all gather, celebrate Easter, everyone will praise your cooking. It’ll lift your spirits.”
And once again, Lucy gave in. At night, when she fell into bed, exhausted, she couldn’t sleep. After such a busy day, she should’ve fallen asleep within seconds, but sleep wouldn’t come. Lucy lay there thinking, analyzing, worrying.
“Why do I need their praise? I’d love to come to a ready meal without spending time, money, or energy.”
Early in the morning, just as Lucy had fallen into a deep sleep, the phone rang. Margaret wanted to be the first to wish them a happy Easter. Then she added, “We’ll all be at yours in an hour. Told the kids yesterday, so start setting the table,” her voice lively and cheerful.
Lucy couldn’t get up. She was too drained to start the day. She ran the scenario through her mind: setting the table, running back and forth to the kitchen to serve everything, then cleaning up afterwards.
“I don’t want to,” she groaned into the pillow.
“Lucy, why are you still in bed? Mum’s coming soon! And the guests,” John stood in the doorway, looking disapprovingly at his wife.
“I’m getting up,” Lucy replied reluctantly, sitting up. “You can do this, you can handle it all, you’re strong,” she whispered to herself as she dragged herself to the bathroom.
She constantly tried to encourage herself. She managed to set everything up and reheat the food on time.
…The table was lively. Families shared experiences, plans, and stories. Margaret sat next to Lucy, not stopping to loudly praise her daughter-in-law.
“Our Lucy cooks so well! Everything’s so delicious, dear. I couldn’t lay such a table myself,” Margaret smiled broadly, squeezing Lucy’s hand and looking approvingly into her eyes.
Lucy reluctantly accepted congratulations, but often excused herself from the table. She went out to the balcony to get away from the noise and questions about children. She and John had decided to wait a bit to get settled, but the family was hardly concerned about that.
“Lucy!” called Margaret. “It’s time to serve dessert. Where did you go?”
The balcony door opened, and Margaret joined her in the small space.
“Do you smoke?” she asked, puzzled.
“What? Of course not!” Lucy jumped at the question. “I just needed some fresh air. It’s stuffy inside.”
“Yes, yes. The kids are there, can’t open the windows. For a moment, I thought you indulged in… Never mind, you’ve got to give me grandchildren!” Margaret joked, wagging her finger playfully.
Lucy forced a smile. But Margaret didn’t notice.
“Come on, we need to clear the table and serve dessert.”
“I’m coming…”
When they returned to the living room, Margaret promptly sat down. Lucy was left alone. She cleared the dirty dishes, took them to the kitchen, then set dessert and placed new cutlery for the guests. All alone.
“Your cake is the best in the world,” Margaret praised again.
Lucy hurried back to the kitchen. She started washing the plates to keep herself occupied. At times like this, Lucy regretted not buying a dishwasher. Its purchase was always postponed.
Two hours later, the guests started to leave.
“John, will you drive me home?” Margaret asked.
“Of course, Mum, just let me grab the keys.”
When Lucy was finally alone in the flat, she slumped onto the sofa. The flat was in chaos. The crowd of guests and several children left their mark. Yesterday’s cleaning was a distant memory.
“Need to get up and finish this,” she told herself. “If I leave it, I’ll only get more frustrated tomorrow. Oh well…”
With a soft sigh, Lucy got up. She started gathering the dirty dishes, put the tablecloth and towels in the wash. She pushed the table back to its corner in the living room. First, she washed all the dishes, utensils, and glasses. She stored the leftover food in containers. Then Lucy vacuumed all the rooms and mopped the floor.
“I deserve something nice for all this work…”
Lucy filled a bath, added her favorite bath bomb, and put on some music. The hot water soothed her tired muscles. For the first time in hours, she picked up her phone. There was a message from her husband:
“Mum suggested I stay over. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I should’ve guessed. As always…”
John knew perfectly well that Lucy would clean today. But he agreed to stay with his mum instead of helping his wife.
“They’ll treat me how I treat them. Enough is enough!” she decided.
A whole month flew by. Another holiday approached, and a call from Margaret came soon after:
“Lucy, set the table! We’re coming Friday to celebrate John’s younger brother’s birthday.”
“Of course, the table’s here. But someone else will have to cook. I’m swamped with work, called to the office. Not sure when I’ll be free,” Lucy sighed theatrically. “I don’t even know if I can attend…”
“What? How…”
“Work, what can you do.”
“Well, alright, I’ll figure something out. Such a shame…” sighed Margaret.
“Take care,” Lucy said, hanging up with a smile.
She spent the celebration evening at a friend’s place. In the morning, she made John clean up since it was his brother’s party, not hers.
When Margaret’s birthday approached, Lucy decided to take a holiday and visit her parents in the nearby town. She gave her gift in advance, along with some news.
“Oh, but where will we celebrate?”
“John will let you have the flat, I just won’t be home.”
“And the cooking?”
“You can order something. Or your other daughters-in-law can cook. You’ll manage!”
For the next occasions, Lucy was home but only served simple charcuterie and store-bought cake. Her explanation was always the same:
“I didn’t have time to cook, work’s been hectic. You can order something if you like.”
But no one wanted to open their wallet and spend money. By New Year’s, everyone realized they couldn’t keep freeloading off Lucy anymore. And their desire to celebrate together quickly faded.
This New Year’s, Lucy and John celebrated alone, which was perfectly fine with her. Her plan had worked. Raising a glass of champagne, she thought to herself, she’d earned a toast.
