Better Than Family

Emily, if youve got money you cant spend, youd better help your brother, her mother shouted. Twelve thousand pounds for his rent! How ridiculous!

Emily set her glass down on the table, pressing her lips together. Relatives kept pressing her, and she no longer wanted anythingnot a birthday celebration, not a conversation.

Olivia, stop pestering the girl, her father tried to intervene. Are we celebrating something today?

Indeed we are, snapped Margaret. And later my grandchildren will have to move into a cramped council flat with drunken neighbours, while Ill be praying nothing bad happens to them. If you, Emily, gave that twelve thousand to Andrew, he could rent a proper flat instead of a single room! Your cats could survive on simple food and a cup of tea.

Mother, Emily protested, I adopted those cats myself because I wanted to. Im responsible for them. Andrew is a grown man, thirtyfive now. He should take responsibility for himself and for the family he chose to start.

Andrew, looking displeased, slumped back on the sofa and turned away.

Thats your family tooyour brother, your nieces! As for stray cats, take any you like. We fed ours porridge and tinned food all their lives and everything was fine. You treat them like children! Fine, if you dont want to have children, go ahead and waste away in old age. But you cant keep doting on your cats while your own nieces only see you on holidays!

Emilys patience snapped. Years of neglect, belittlement, and dismissal of her feelings burst forth with tears streaming down her cheeks.

These cats are better than family, she blurted. They love me unconditionally and never judge me for wanting my own life.

She couldnt take it any longer. Turning on her heel, Emily rushed to the bedroom and slammed the door shut with all her might.

Fine, well see how you manage when you stop buying them trinkets! her mother called after her. The worlds turned upside down. Some cats are worth more than parents now

Margaret kept whining, but Emily tried not to hear. She collapsed onto the bed and buried her face in a pillow, drowning out the complaints. Her brother, as usual, brushed past her like a cannonball and slipped behind her skirt. It had always been that way.

Emilys childhood memories were fuzzy, as if someone had erased the painful parts. She did remember her fifth birthday, when Margaret baked a raspberry cake because Andrew wanted it, even though Emily had asked for a chocolate one with candles.

The biggest slice for the dearest man, Margaret said with a grin, then looked at Emily with the usual tired sparkle. Youll get a smaller piece, love. Girls need to watch their figure.

It seemed harmless, but Andrew always got the best: toys, trips, gifts, and, most importantly, attention. Margaret adored him with admiration and hope, while Emily felt like an afterthought.

Victor, their father, would sigh in those moments, rarely offering a comment. He clung to an oldfashioned view that a woman should look after the children and a man should work.

When Emily grew older, she spent most summers at the cottage with Margaret. Andrew spent his time out with friends, and when Margaret asked for help, he always complained of a headache. Emily never got a pass. Shes a girl, she should help around the house while Andrew handles the mens business, the family would say.

Sometimes Victor tried to intervene too late, his attempts falling flat.

Emily, are you trying to raise a dependant? he whispered to his wife one night. Stop coddling him! A proper man should be able to wash his socks, make his bed, and cook for himself.

Do you see him doing any of that? Margaret replied. Let the boy live peacefully while hes with us. Hell still have to learn eventually.

And who will teach him? Victor asked. His wife, of course.

If she doesnt want to nurse a grown man like a child, then we dont need her.

The normal one appeared far too quickly, Emily thought. She wasnt even sixteen when Andrew brought home a wideeyed girl named Harriet. At first she stayed for evenings, then nights, and finally moved in permanently.

Emily only learned of the permanence when Margaret tried to explain.

Sweetheart, dont be upset, but the young need space. Youll stay in Andrews room, and hell move in with Harriet.

Emily loathed the arrangement. Her roomher sanctuary, her books, her posterswas being taken away. Andrews room was spacious but shared, leaving no room for privacy.

Its not really yours, its ours, Margaret said. Youre just using it temporarily. Theres a bed, a deskwhat more do you need?

Emily was speechless for a moment. The words made it clear she owned nothing there, and her chance for solitude vanished.

Victor tried to intervene. Dont bother the child, he said. Let the young live as they wish, or theyll move out and save for a flat.

Do you want my son to sleep on the streets? Margaret shouted. What if something happens to him? I wont forgive you!

Her threats flustered Victor, and later that day Emily moved her things to another room.

Life turned into a series of petty grievances: Andrew mocked her posters, Margaret peeked at her laptop chats, and Harriet, without asking, pilfered her cosmetics. Emily felt like an unwanted piece of furniture in her own home.

She fled to her grandmothers house. The old lady was blind in one eye and shuffled slowly, but caring for her felt better than being mute furniture in a house that never accepted her.

Her grandmother had been a veterinary surgeon before retirement, loved animals, and always carried a bag of feed on walks, never letting strangers into her home.

I dont want anyone getting attached to me, the grandmother would say. And I cant afford medicines or the responsibility of more pets. If you take one in, feed, treat, and love it, or else dont take it at all.

They lived together for almost ten years. Emily studied and worked to avoid burdening her grandmother, and in the process discovered a desire to become a vet herself.

When the grandmother passed away, the flat went to Emily. She finally had a place of her own, but loneliness gnawed at her. Friends were busy with their own families; she longed for someone to hug whenever she needed. The word family still echoed with problems, but animals were different.

She now had two cats: Milo, rescued after being euthanised because he could never stand on his hind legs, and Oliver, adopted a year later when Milo seemed bored alone. Both were illMilos kidneys, Olivers stomachso the specialist food cost a small fortune. Emily shouldered the expense, because the love and affection they gave her seemed worth every penny.

Andrew, however, had other ideas. One day he brought a rat home, saying the children wanted a pet. No one thought about proper care, and the rat fell ill. While Emily was trying to explain that the cage needed to be three times larger, a courier arrived with cat food.

The bill is twelvesevenhundred pounds, the courier announced as he unloaded the bags.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. Twelve thousand? Thats a third of my salary. Did they stuff gold in there?

Andrew never managed to save for his own flat. After his first child was born, he moved with his family into a cramped council flat, where a second son soon arrived.

This is veterinary food, Emily said calmly. And its on discount.

Andrew shook his head but let the matter drop. Instead, he turned his attention to Margarets birthday, which happened to be the same day as Emilys.

Later, alone in the quiet, Emily felt a strange peace. Milo, sensing her mood, nudged her cheek with his damp nose and began to purr. Oliver followed, licking her clenched fingers. Their soft vibrations melted her tension. They couldnt speak, yet in their purrs Emily found the unconditional support shed never received from her own family.

The phone rang. It was Victor.

Emily, Im sorry things turned out this way, he said, weary. I dont really understand the cat business, but I wont be digging into your pockets either. Theyre not right.

His words felt like a bandage over a fresh wound. He didnt condemn her, nor did he excuse Margaret. Perhaps, if hed been more involved, none of this would have happened. Still, Emily was grateful for his honesty.

An hour later Lucy, her best friend, called.

Happy birthday, love! How are you celebrating?

Emily managed a weak Thanks, its fine. Lucy knew her well enough to sense the strain.

Dont let it get you down. Ill be there in an hour, Lucy promised, hanging up before Emily could argue.

When Lucy, her husband Mark, and two other friends burst through the door an hour later, the flat erupted in chaos. Milo and Oliver fled under the bed in terror as pizza boxes, wine bottles, and a massive multilevel cat tree were carried in.

This is for your whiskered friends, so they never get bored, Lucy declared.

The birthday party felt like a draft of something real: laughter, noisy toasts, and genuine hugs. The guests accepted Emily just as she was, unlike her blood relatives. They stayed long after midnight, and Lucy lingered to help clean up.

Feeling better? she asked quietly.

Emily smiled, tears finally dried. Much better. Youre the best.

Milo slept on a cushion under the table, Oliver perched on a chair, and the new cat tree stood proudly in the living room. Lucy, getting ready for work the next day, washed dishes beside her.

In that moment Emily realized that family is important, but only if its the right kind of family. She hadnt been lucky with the one she was born into, and that was fine. You can always build your ownpeople who purr in your ear when youre sad, who barge into your home at midnight knowing you need comfort. Such a family is stronger than any blood tie because its bound not by duty or guilt, but by love.