«Ive got nowhere to go!»
«Im not going back to that old dog! Id rather live in a basement than with him!»
«Mum, well then, off to the basement you go! Ill be divorcing you soon enough myself!» snapped Emily, stirring her porridge angrily.
«Kicking out your own mother?» Lydia clutched her chest. «Ive given you my whole life, and this is the thanks I get! Cheers, darling, for your kindness!»
With a huff, her mother stormed off to their shared bedroombecause the four of them were crammed into a one-bed flat where privacy had been impossible for the last three months.
Emily never imagined shed be part of such a mess. People divorced and remarried all the time, but her parents had always been the picture of stability. Just recently, Lydia and Oliver had celebrated their ruby wedding anniversaryforty years togetherand now her mother couldnt stand the sight of him.
Then one «wonderful» day, Mum turned up at Emilys doorstep with suitcases, announcing she was leaving him.
«Can you believe it? He cheated on me with some floozy of a nurse!» Lydia gasped, still catching her breath from climbing the stairs. «Fancy going after a woman his own age… what a Romeo!»
«Mum, seriously? Are you sure? Maybe you got it wrong?» Emily stared at her in disbelief.
Lydia had always been dramatic, prone to twisting facts or imagining the worst. A bit of gossip in her ear, and shed spin it into a full-blown scandal. But this time, unfortunately, she wasnt wrong.
«Oh, sure, I got it wrong. Those photos on his phone werent exactly family snaps! Old fool shouldve known better at his age…»
Emily decided to deal with that later. First, she had to calm her mother down. She sat her at the table, made tea, and tried to reason with hertelling her even if it was true, it wasnt the end of the world. It happened to plenty of people. Shed help her through it.
Little did she know how literally Mum would take that.
From then on, Lydia moved in. That wouldnt have been so bad if Emily didnt already have her own familyhusband George and five-year-old Liam, who was at that age where he poked into everything.
At first, Emily tried to be understanding, even looking for silver linings. Help with Liam? She worked remotely and managed fine. Cooking? Mum loved greasy meals Emily avoided for her figure, and George couldnt eat for health reasons. Cleaning? Their ideas of «tidy» were worlds apart.
And that was just the start.
«Right, you need to change the bedsheets. Liams toodo his in the morning,» Lydia announced at eleven at night, just as they were settling in for a film.
«What, now? Mum, Liams asleep! How are we supposed to do that in the dark?»
«Its fine. The hallway lights enough. Change them quietly, then off to bed. Shouldve done it earlieryoure always putting things off! Dust mitesll be moving in soon!»
Mum would plant her hands on her hips, scanning the room for more chores to assign.
Emily sighed but obeyed. She was used to her mothers quirks and knew arguing meant hours of nagging. Lydia never backed downshe thrived on conflict, while Emily had grown up bending to keep the peace.
George didnt share her patience.
«Love, cant you just say no?» hed mutter when they were alone.
«Well… shes my mum. You know how she is…»
«I do. But this is our home, our rules. Im getting tired of this.»
«Just hang on a bit longer. She and Dad need time. Itll sort itself out…»
But Emily didnt sound convinced. Shed already spoken to her father. Hed admitted to a fling.
«Dont know what came over me… Wanted to see what Id missed, I suppose. Your mums the only woman Ive ever been with. Now I dont know where to put myself. I love her, but will she even listen…?»
Honestly, Emily understood her mother. She wouldnt have forgiven cheating either, even if it was just a fling. Lydia had every right to leave. But she wasnt doing anythingjust waiting, as if the problem would vanish on its own.
Things only got worse. Lydia decided George was getting too comfortable.
In her parents house, chores were split equally. Dad vacuumed, scrubbed the bathroom weekly, did dishes, even cooked the occasional roast. He helped with deep cleans, window polishing, market runsjobs many families called «womens work.»
Not in Emilys home. George helped Liam with handwriting or took him swimming, but everything else fell to her. It made sensehe was the main breadwinner, now supporting her mother too. Emily worked remotely a few hours a day, her wages mostly funding her own treats.
But Lydia didnt see it that way.
«Youve let him off too easy!» shed needle. «Make him pull his weight evenings, not laze about. Men stray when theyve got too much time on their hands.»
«Mum, thanks, but well handle it.»
Lydia wasnt listening. She launched a campaign to «reform» her son-in-law.
«Sit down,» shed order when Emily cleared the table. «George, shes been on her feet all day. Too proud to ask for help. Be a dear and wash up.»
George would glare but complyuntil his patience snapped. Arguments erupted. Hed vent to Emily in private, trying to keep things civil.
And he wasnt wrong. Emily knew it. But what could she do?
«Mum, this cant go on. Whats your plan?» she asked after two months.
«Dunno. Ill sort something. Got nowhere else to go.» Lydia stiffened, sensing where this was headed.
«Hows that? You and Dad own the flat. Sell it, split up. Youve got to do something.»
«I dont want a penny from him!» she snapped, arms crossed. «Ill manage. Wont speak to him.»
«Managing» meant Emily and George bore the brunt. They were exhausted. She dropped hints about wanting evenings alone, the strain of sharing a tiny flatall ignored. Then she spelled it out, which Lydia didnt take well.
Finally, Emily had enough. She found her mother a bedsit and packed her bags while she showered.
«Whats this? You going somewhere?» Lydia demanded, towel-drying her hair.
«No, you are. Weve rented you a place. Best we could afford. Happy families only exist on tellyreal people need space.»
Lydia ranted, screamed about being thrown out, but they stood firm. Sat her down, explained theyd help with rent for two months, but that was it.
«Unless you want us splitting this flat next? Where does it end?» George said pointedly.
Mum gave in. But the peace didnt last.
«What kind of dump is this?!» she shrieked over the phone after one night. «Cockroaches everywhere, neighbours couldnt care less! The kitchens filthylooks like it hasnt been cleaned in a decade! And dont get me started on the loo!»
«Mum, we did what we could. Youre free to rent somewhere else.»
But the places Lydia liked were out of her budget. Slowly, her stance shifted. She started muttering about solicitors and paperwork. Then one day…
«Right. Im home. Back where I belong,» she announced, as if it was Emilys fault.
«Really? What about Dad?»
«Still cant stand him,» Lydia sniffed. «But better my own room than that hovel. Someone nicked my purse while I was at the shops! Ill tolerate your fathers faceat least theres no six-legged flatmates.»
Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Whether they reconciled or divorced didnt matter. Let them battle it out in their own home, not hers. For the first time in months, her flat felt like hers again.
