Give the Child to the Care Home Since He’s Not My Son! — My Mother-in-Law Smiled as She Said This

Youll send the child off to a boarding school, since he isnt my son! Margaret Whitaker said, smiling politely.
And you dont expect my Nathan to look after a strangers kid? Emily placed her porcelain cup delicately on its saucer. Hes already a teenager; a bit of independence would do him good.

The air in the sitting room seemed to freeze. Margarets immaculate silver hair, immaculate manicure, and sparkling jewellery suddenly took on a strange, almost predatory sheen. Behind the thin smile stretched over her lips something fierce and unsettling.

—

Jack woke early, as usual. Emily was already at the stove, turning a scramble of eggs with a wooden spatula. The scent of freshly brewed herbal tea filled their new kitchen. Two weeks after the wedding she still felt odd saying our home everything seemed temporary, as if she and her son were merely guests in Nathans spacious cottage in Surrey.

Mum, have you seen my blue jumper? Jack appeared in the doorway, clutching a stack of schoolbooks to his chest.

Its on the top shelf of your wardrobe, Emily replied, watching her son. At fourteen he was nearly as tall as she was, his cheekbones sharpening into his fathers. Brush your hair; you look like a dandelion.

Jack huffed, then smoothed the dark tufts obediently. Emily set a plate before him.

No more moves? he asked quietly, eyes fixed on the food.

No more, Emily brushed his shoulder lightly. We finally have a home.

Nathan descended the stairs just as Jack was finishing his breakfast. Tall, with warm brown eyes, he looked a little rumpled from sleep. He kissed Emily on the cheek, ruffled Jacks hair, and asked,

How are the exams, lad?

Fine, Jack shrugged, though Emily caught a fleeting grin. In the six months since theyd met, the boy was slowly warming to his stepfather.

A knock at the door interrupted the morning. Margaret Whitaker entered unannounced, her trademark smilepolite on the surface, icecold underneathon full display.

Good morning, family! She pressed a kiss to Nathans forehead, gave Emily a nod that barely acknowledged Jack. Nathan, you forgot my car papers. Ive brought them along.

While Nathan leafed through the documents, Margaret took in the kitchen, noting every detail. Emily felt her shoulders tighten. From the moment she first met Margarets assessing gaze, shed felt the urge to curl up like a frightened mouse.

Emily, are you free after lunch? the motherinlaw asked suddenly. Do pop round for tea. We can have a proper womentalk.

Of course, Emily replied, smiling. Id love that.

Jack gave his mother a skeptical look; he always sensed something off. Margarets smile widened, but her eyes stayed as frosty as ever.

Lovely. Ill see you at three.

When the door closed behind Margaret, Emily exhaled, a wave of inexplicable anxiety settling under her ribs. Nathan, noticing her tension, slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Shes just trying, in her own way.

Right, Emily said, though she didnt quite believe herself.

At half past two she stood in the hallway mirror, adjusting the collar of her blouse. Jack, heading off to his maths club, watched her nervous movements.

She doesnt love you, he blurted out suddenly. And she doesnt love me either.

Dont be ridiculous, Emily ruffled his cheek. She just needs time.

I never understood why adults pretend, Jack shrugged. She looks at us like were dirt under her shoes.

Emily had nothing to argue with. Margaret lived just two doors down in the neighbouring cottage. The front door opened as soon as she arrived, as if shed been waiting.

Come in, dear. The kettles already whistling.

The sitting room gleamed with polished perfection. Antique furniture, paintings in expensive frames, a porcelain collectionall shouted of the owners wealth and taste. Emily perched on the edge of the sofa, hands folded on her knees. Margaret poured tea into fine china and presented a plate of pastries.

You want Nathan to be happy, dont you? she asked, stirring sugar into her cup.

That sentence set the tone, and a knot of foreboding formed in Emilys chest.

Of course I do, Emily answered cautiously, feeling her heart quicken. We all want our loved ones to be content.

Margaret lifted a silvery fork, speared a pastry, and took a slow bite. A droplet of cream lingered at the corner of her lips. She dabbed it with a napkin, then fixed Emily with a piercing stare.

My son deserves a proper family, she declared, eyes unmoving. Youre charming and capable, but theres a problem.

She set her cup down with a clink that seemed to echo inside Emilys nerves.

Send the child to a boarding school, since he isnt my son! Margaret said as matteroffact, as if she were suggesting a new brand of biscuits. Ive already done my homework.

Theres a prestigious private academy, topnotch teachers, an excellent curriculum.

Emily froze, unable to process what she was hearing. How could a woman with flawless posture and polished manners speak so coldly about a living boyher Jack?

Margaret, are you joking? Emily whispered.

Not at all, dear. Margaret slid a glossy brochure across the table. Hes fourteen now, almost an adult.

Four years will fly by. Nathan needs his own family, his own children. Your boy isnt his blood. She grimaced, as if saying something indecent. Ill cover all the costs. Consider it my gift.

Emily stared at Margarets smile and saw an empty void behind it, a complete lack of humanity. She rose, knees trembling.

My son isnt going anywhere, she said softly but firmly. Hes part of my life, part of me.

Dont dramatise, Margaret scoffed. Youre a sensible woman. Think of Nathans future, his career, your marriage. The boy will only get in the way.

His name is Jack, Emily clenched her fists. Hes my family. If your son cant accept that

My son doesnt understand much yet, Margaret interrupted. But sooner or later hell realise a stepchild is a burden, especially a teenage one. He and Nathan could never have a genuine bond.

A wave of nausea rose in Emilys throat. She snapped up, spilling tea onto the tablecloth.

Im sorry, I must leave.

She bolted out, the door slamming behind her, tears burning her eyes. Anger and hurt roared inside her. How could a woman propose such a thing? Was her own son perhaps sharing his mothers cold calculations?

Back home she collapsed onto the bed, sobbing until Nathan returned. Between gasps she told him everything.

That cant be right, Nathan said, shaking his head. Mum would never

Call her, Emilys voice trembled. Ask her yourself, now.

Nathan reluctantly dialled, speakerphone on.

Mum, Emily told me about your conversation. Is this some sort of misunderstanding?

Margaret sighed into the handset:

Darling, this is an adult matter. I merely suggested a sensible solution. The boy would thrive in a specialist school, and you could build a proper family

God, Nathan whispered, pale. Did you really say that?

Of course I did! And Im right! Her tone hardened. That lad isnt yours! Why waste your life on him?

Nathan paused, gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but steady:

Jack stopped being a stranger the minute I chose Emily. That matters, dont you see? Love a woman, you accept her child.

Romantic nonsense! Margaret snapped. Youre blinded by love, but youll come to your senses soon enough

Enough, Nathan cut her off. For the first time Emily saw a resolve in him she hadnt known existed. The problem isnt my understanding, its yours.

Jack is part of my family. If thats an insurmountable obstacle for you, perhaps we should indeed take a break.

How dare you speak to me like that! Margaret shrieked. Im your mother! Ive given you everything

Youre my mother, not the master of my life, Nathan replied calmly, though his tension was obvious. If you suggest getting rid of Jack again, Ill cut all ties. Thats my final word.

Silence hung heavy on the line, then a few short beeps.

Im sorry, Nathan slumped onto the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hands. I didnt realise I never thought she could be so

Emily sat beside him, speechless.

Do you think shell calm down? she asked finally.

No. Its only the beginning.

Three days passed in a suffocating quiet. Margaret neither visited nor called. Nathan was a taut wire at work, withdrawn at home. Emily caught his guilty glances, tried to reassure him, but anxiety grew like a storm cloud.

On Thursday the phone rang. Emilys heart leapt when she saw Margarets number.

We need to talk, Margaret said bluntly. All three of us, this evening.

I dont think thats a good idea, Emily began, but Margaret cut her off:

Its about my sons future. Either you all come over, or Ill come to you. Choose.

Nathan returned from work early, eyes weary, shadows under them.

Your mother called, Emily said quietly. She wants a meeting.

Nathan nodded:

I know. She called me too. Said shes changed her mind, that shes willing to accept our family.

Do you believe her? Emily asked, eyes searching his.

No, he shook his head. But I have to try to fix this.

Im scared for Jack, Emily whispered. He shouldnt hear this.

Nathan pulled her close:

Itll be alright. He wont know.

At seven they stood before Margarets front door. She opened instantly, elegant in a pricey suit, her demeanor betraying none of the recent drama.

Come in, her voice was uncharacteristically gentle. Ive ordered dinner.

The table was set like a banquet. Crystal, silver, a bottle of fine red wine. Margaret placed the plates, sat opposite them.

I overreacted, she said, looking at Nathan. A mothers worry sometimes makes us say terrible things. She turned to Emily: Im sorry, love. I was wrong.

Emily nodded silently, unwilling to believe a word. Margarets eyes remained cold, calculating.

So, Margaret continued, remember the inheritance I mentioned? The house in London, the cottage, my savings?

Nathan frowned:

Mum, maybe not now.

No, now, she insisted, raising a hand. I want to rewrite my will. Itll go to you and your future childrenreal children.

Nathan set his fork down, the room chilling further.

So you havent changed your mind? he whispered.

Im merely offering a compromise, Margaret shrugged. The boy can live with you if you wish, but dont waste your resources on him. Hes not yours.

Emily felt a surge of fierce anger. Her fingers clenched until they hurt. Before she could react, Nathan stood.

You know what, he said, a sudden clarity in his tone Ive spent my whole life trying to fit your expectations: elite school, career, money

He turned to the window.

But I see now I was a project, not a son. If I accept your terms, Ill never truly be a father.

What are you talking about? Margaret demanded. Im looking out for your future!

No, Nathan shook his head. Youre looking after your fantasies. My family is Emily and Jack. Thats my choice.

Margarets face paled.

Youll regret this! No inheritance, no nothing!

Keep it, Nathan grabbed Emilys hand. Well manage.

They left, ignoring Margarets shrieks. Outside, Emily weptnot from sorrow, but from relief.

Are you sure? she asked, looking at Nathan. Its a lot of money, your future

My future is you two, he squeezed her palm. Everything else Ill earn myself.

A week later Nathan collected Jack after his maths club, alone, without Emily. The boy emerged from school, eyeing his stepdad warily.

Is mum busy? he asked, hopping into the passenger seat.

No, Nathan started the engine. I just wanted to have a chat, just us men.

They drove to the park. Waffle cones chilled their hands as they settled on a bench by the lake. White sails drifted across the water, leaving rippling trails behind.

Jack licked a vanilla icecream ball, then, without looking up, said:

I know about grandmas ultimatum. The walls at home feel like theyre made of cigarette paper. Even headphones dont help.

Nathan nodded:

What do you think?

I think you chose us over the money, Jack shrugged. Thats odd.

Why?

Adults usually pick the cash, Jack watched the water, avoiding Nathans eyes.

You know, Nathan said, leaning back, Ive been my mothers son all my life. Now I want to try being a dad. If youre okay with that.

Jack stayed silent, the sun gilding the lake, the breeze rustling the trees.

She might change her mind, Jack finally said, give you the inheritance back if you ditch us.

I know, Nathan replied. But a father isnt the one who gives you life, hes the one who chooses you and sticks around.

They sat in a comfortable silence, two men separated by an invisible line, each bearing scars of loss and loneliness. Jack glanced at his sneakers, bit his lip, then exhaled as if diving into cold water:

Thanks, dad. The word slipped out with a tiny stumble, as if tasting it for the first time.

Nathan swallowed, placed his hand on Jacks shoulder:

Lets go home, son. Mum will be worried.

That evening the three of them cooked dinner together, chopping veg, laughing at Nathans clumsy attempts at sauce. Jack talked about an upcoming maths competition, Emily about a new job, Nathan about holiday plans. An ordinary family night.

Meanwhile, in her grand manor behind the hedge, Margaret Whitaker stood before an antique gilded mirror. A crystal glass of expensive wine trembled in her slender fingers. Her reflection was immaculateevery curl in place, wrinkles artfully hidden, sapphire earrings flashing coldly. Only her eyes betrayed the truth: two frozen wells, empty save for the echo of defeat. For the first time, money had lost its battle with warmth.

She could not foresee that a year later Nathan would returnnot for an inheritance, but with simple words: Were ready to welcome you, if youre ready to welcome us. She didnt know she would one day call Jack her grandsonfirst through gritted teeth, then with reluctant pride.

But that lay in the future. Right now, in a kitchen scented with basil and fresh bread, three people were learning whats stronger than blood or goldbeing a real family.