Staff for His Mum

Staff for His Mum
Jamie, I get it, but I didnt sign up to be your mums cook, hissed Emily, dropping a tin of peas into the trolley. I just want to walk out, jump in the car, and head home. We were supposed to have a quiet night together, just the three of us, but instead were prepping food for half your extended family while your mum sits on her throne! Is that even normal?
Jamie hunched his shoulders and looked away, pretending the ingredients in the crab sticks were fascinating. He looked like a guilty puppy caught raiding the bin.
Em, please keep it down. People are staring, its embarrassing he murmured, trying to take her elbow, but she jerked it away. Mum didnt really think things through this time. It happens. Lets just get everything she needs, head back, and power through those salads. Bear with mejust this oncefor me, for the occasion.
Didnt think it through. What a delicate way to put it.
Emily bit her lip, fuming. She knew perfectly well it was all calculated.
It had all begun a week ago with a phone call. Patricia called to wish the couple a Happy New Year, and then, quite unexpectedly, invited them over.
My dears, Patricia cooed, her voice so sugary it could give you diabetes just listening. Why dont you come to mine for Christmas? I miss you both so much. Well have a nice little gathering, just the three of us, reminisce, talk. Its so lonely in this flat.
Emily tensed immediately. Her gut said something was off. These small family get-togethers at Jamies mums always ended up in one thingan interrogation about grandchildren.
The first time Patricia broached it, Emily and Jamie werent even married.
Emily, have you ever thought about children? Patricia asked suddenly when they were alone.
Emily was so taken aback, she stammered.
Well she started, scrambling for a response. Id love kids, but not right now. Jamie and I are only seeing each other.
Oh, Emily, you dont need a marriage certificate for children, Patricia waved her hand dismissively. But age Times ticking, love. Youre not getting younger, and neither am I. Might die without seeing my grandkids.
At first Emily tried to laugh it off, then she began to snap back, and eventually she started avoiding his mum altogether for the sake of her nerves.
So she and Patricia never really got to know each otherand Emily preferred it that way. But Jamie intervened, always too soft-hearted to refuse his mum anything.
Come on, Em, lets go. Just once, Jamie coaxed after another phone call, searching her eyes. Shes getting old. Shes genuinely lonely. Just this one timefor me, please.
Jamie, Im not stopping you. Go see your mum. You know I dont celebrate Christmas.
Look at it as a simple dinner, not Christmas, Jamie pressed. Mum wants to make things better between you two. Were family
Emily resisted for ages, but finally relented. She hoped for a polite smile and a slice of cake. How wrong she was
Things started going sideways the day before. Patricia demanded they arrive at eight in the morning to have more time together. Emily flat out refusedshe wanted to sleep inand managed to push it back to ten with difficulty.
They arrived, bleary-eyed, and nothing. No smell of roasting meat, no sizzling pans. Their hostess greeted them in a worn dressing gown and rollers.
Well, you finally showed! Nearly eleven, Ill have you know! Guests will be here soon, and theres nothing done! Shouldve got up earlier! Youre helping me now.
Emily froze, mid-coat removal.
Guests? What guests? she asked.
Oh, just a few people Linda and Rob are passing through from York, couldnt say no. Auntie Mary from upstairs will drop in, niece promised to come Cant turn everyone away, can I? Now, enough chat! Kitchen, ASAPtime is short!
The penny dropped. Theyd been invited not as guests, but as free labour.
The holiday quickly turned into a nightmare. Patricia morphed from doting hostess to drill sergeant, waving a tea towel and barking orders throughout the flat. She didnt lift a finger when it came to cooking. Worse, she hadnt even got all the groceries: some things missing, others forgotten. She handed Jamie a list and sent them off to Tesco.
Emily was ready to bolt, but stayedfor Jamies sake.
Soon, everyone was at their workstation. Emily chopping, Jamie peeling spuds. No festive spirit, just a list of chores. Five sweaty hours later, not a single break.
Around four guests started to arrive, fragrant and cheerful. Emily and Jamie looked like theyd crawled from a washing-up liquid advert: red-faced, stained clothes, utterly exhausted. They didnt want to celebratethey barely wanted to exist.
Meanwhile, Patricia managed to slip into a nice dress and lipstick, presiding over the table like royalty and basking in the compliments.
Pat, you outdid yourself! So much food, such a hostess! gushed an unfamiliar woman as she heaped up Emilys chopped salad.
All for you, for my guests, Patricia replied modestly with a smile.
And, of course, she couldnt resist another toast about the ticking clock, harping on about children. If Jamie hadnt squeezed Emilys knee, she wouldve tossed the vinaigrette bowl right at the table.
This was the last time, Emily said tersely to Jamie as they drove home that night. Im not setting foot in your mums house again. Go help her yourself if you wantburn out if you must. Im done.
Jamie didnt argue. He simply nodded.
Three months passed. Emilys back long since recovered, but the bad memories lingered. So, when Jamie said his mum was inviting them again in early March, she tensed.
She wants us for Mothers Day. Says itll just be the three of us. Maybe Auntie Linda for a quick hello, but shell drop off a card and go, Jamie said, reading Emilys glare, and quickly added, But Im not forcing you. Just letting you know.
Jamie braced himself for shouting and accusations about the ruined holiday. But Emily simply stared out the window thoughtfully, then…
All right. Tell your mum well come.
Em Seriously? You said
I remember what I said. But if I refuse, shell start hounding us daily like before. I want to make sure she never invites me again, doesnt guilt-trip or whine. Trust mefor onceif you dont want to spend another day sweating in her kitchen.
Jamie shrugged, wisely staying neutral.
Mothers Day arrived, and, contrary to Patricias hopes, it began with no alarms and no rush. Emily and Jamie lounged in bed, watching some mindless comedy and eating ice cream out of the tub. No rush, no makeup, no frantic search for presentable shirts.
Around noon, Patricia got anxious and phoned.
Hello, Patricia? You wont believe itweve only just woken up, Emily said, voice full of mock contrition. Stayed up late with friends yesterday, missed the alarm.
But Emily, Ive been waiting! Patricia snapped. Hurry up, the roast gooses getting cold.
Were getting ready! An hour, tops, and well be there! Emily promised, then returned to her programme.
Jamie eyed her nervously but stayed quiet. Better a warm bed than slaving at his mums stove again.
One oclock: phone rings again. Emily waited before answering.
Were nearly out the door, Patricia! Just calling a cabwell be with you in no time, she chirped, never leaving the bed.
Another hour, another excuse.
A car crashed into a bus, roads closed, massive traffic jam, Emily reported, muting the telly. Itll clear up soon, Im sure.
By around half past three, Patricia lost her cool.
Where are you?! How many hours does it take? Youd have got here faster walking! Are you on your way or not? I can barely standIm exhausted!
Emily heard the sounds of chatter and laughter in the background and narrowed her eyes.
Patricia, are you not alone? she asked directly.
Alone, not alonewhats the difference? Patricia snapped. Family came to say hellocant throw them out. Are you coming or not?! Im about ready to collapse, doing everything myself!
Got it. Patricia wanted free helpers againbut now, with her scheme ruined, she had to cook herself.
Well were not coming, Emily said calmly.
What?!
I suddenly felt illmust have gotten carsick. Were turning back and heading home.
A silence, then Patricia erupted.
How dare you?! Ungrateful! Ive stood by the cooker all morningwhos all this for? Who? Youre doing it on purpose, tormenting me! If I have a stroke, itll be your fault! Jamie! Let me speak to Jamie!
Jamie heard it all, but didnt budge. Emily pressed end call, switched off her phone.
That proves my point, she said to Jamie. Theres a crowd againshe was counting on us to serve everyone. Let her deal with her guests herself since shes invited half the street.
That evening, they headed to Emilys parents.
The difference was clear from the doorstep. There was bustle, but the atmosphere was completely different. No one sat stone-faced, waiting for servants. Emilys mum squeezed a giant salad bowl onto the table, Dad sliced sandwiches.
Ah, the youngsters are here! Dad cheered, seeing Emily and Jamie. Jamie, grab some chairs from the bedroomno place to sit yet.
Jamie dutifully obliged. Emily stood next to her mum, helping lay out dishes.
They were helping, sure, but not under duress. Here, it felt natural, not like exploitationeveryone chipping in for a good time.
As Emily sat at the table, watching her smiling mum and Jamie chatting cheerfully with her dad, she felt the tension melt away. Justice was served. Brutally, perhaps, through a row, but Patricia would hardly dare try her tricks again. The bridge between Emily and her mother-in-law may be burnt forever, but thats better than serving as staff at someone elses celebration.