A Flower in the Shade
Emily stood before the mirror in her bedroom, adjusting her soft curls and adding the final touches to her makeup. Her new blue dress flowed gently over her figure, emphasising her delicate frame. She smiled at her reflection, her heart fluttering with anticipation for the evening ahead. Tonight, she and her husband, James, had been invited to dinner with friends in Manchester, and she wanted to look flawless.
“Alright, I’m ready!” she said, turning to James as he fastened his blazer.
“Em, you look absolutely stunning,” he replied, his eyes warm with affection.
They stepped into the hallway, and James called out, peeking into the kitchen:
“Mum, we’re off! We’ll be back late!”
“Alright, love, I’ll wait up!” came the reply from Margaret. But when she caught sight of Emily, her expression turned sharp, her gaze cold as ice.
“You’re so lucky, Margaret, to have such wonderful children!” Emily’s mother-in-law, Patricia, beamed, embracing Margaret at a family gathering.
Emily’s father, standing nearby, glowed with pride.
“Our Emily’s a gem—you’ll grow to love her, I’m sure,” he added.
“Oh, but let’s not just talk about Emily,” Patricia chuckled. “Your James is such a fine young man! They make such a lovely pair.”
*As if they’d have any reason not to like James—such a catch, yet he ended up with plain little Emily. What a common name—hardly worth a second glance. Barely presentable!* Margaret thought, masking her irritation behind a tight smile.
James had married against his parents’ wishes. From the start, Emily had seemed too ordinary, too unremarkable. And then he’d moved her into their home, claiming they were saving for their own place—though how long that would take was anyone’s guess.
*Did I raise my son just for this Emily?* Margaret seethed.
“Andrew and I are delighted too,” she answered coolly, her tone betraying what she truly felt. But Emily’s parents didn’t seem to notice.
They visited now and then, bringing cake for tea, inspecting how the young couple were settling in. They never stayed long—Margaret had no interest in bonding.
She and Andrew had even promised to contribute to their deposit, just to speed things along. Deep down, Margaret hoped James would come to his senses before children entered the picture.
But James and Emily acted as if their love was unshakable. They never argued, their gazes always tender. It baffled Margaret. Her son, who’d bickered over every little thing with his parents, was different with Emily. He’d never had serious relationships before—losing interest quickly. Yet everything Emily did seemed to delight him.
Even Andrew began warming to her. One evening, she served homemade bacon with leftover stew—a treat her parents had sent from the countryside.
Margaret hadn’t expected her husband to tuck in so eagerly, praising the meal between bites.
“What’s going on here?” she snapped, storming into the kitchen. “Emily, Andrew can’t eat this! He’s watching his weight!”
“Andrew eats porridge in front of you, then sneaks sausages at night,” Emily replied calmly. “Porridge won’t slim anyone down. A little of everything is healthier—and the weight will go naturally.”
*The cheek of her!* Margaret thought but held her tongue.
Emily’s parents were thrilled with how their daughter had settled.
“We’ve been saving for her dowry, so we’ll help with the flat,” Patricia said tearfully, hugging Margaret. “Thank you for taking them in!”
*Dowry? What nonsense!* Margaret fumed inwardly. But the guests left soon after, promising to return the invitation.
And Emily kept meddling. One morning, as Andrew prepared for a business meeting, she spoke up:
“You’d look better in a casual shirt—no tie. More relaxed.”
Margaret, in the next room, was too late to intervene. Andrew changed, clearly pleased—he hated stiff shirts and ties. He left in high spirits.
Surprisingly, the meeting went brilliantly. The deal was sealed on excellent terms. His partner even remarked:
“You remind me of my older brother—no-nonsense, easy to work with!”
Another time, Margaret was dressing for lunch with friends. She’d planned to wear a formal dress and expensive jewellery, as always, to project sophistication. But Emily, unprompted, suggested:
“You’ve got such a figure! Try jeans and a belted jacket—it’ll show off your waist. Put your hair up, but leave a strand loose. And this costume jewellery—very chic. You’ll look like James’s glamorous sister!”
Margaret scoffed but glanced in the mirror—and gasped. She hadn’t looked this youthful in years. It pleased her, despite the advice coming from Emily.
She returned in high spirits. Her friends raved, accusing her of secret cosmetic treatments.
With Emily around, the house felt lighter, brighter.
“I told you, Mum—Emily’s got brilliant instincts,” James said. “She always knows what works. She’s amazing, and so beautiful!”
“I’ll grant you the instincts,” Margaret smiled. “But beautiful? Sorry, love, I call it as I see it. Though they do say beauty’s in the eye of the beholder.”
“Just give it time,” James replied with a mysterious smile.
Margaret was used to seeing Emily at home—makeup-free, in simple clothes. Even at work, she kept it natural, disliking artificial glamour. She took pride in being valued for who she was, not how she looked.
But one evening, they were invited to a party. The host’s wife was preening about her looks, so Emily decided to show her own flair. She styled her hair elegantly, applied subtle makeup, and wore her finest dress.
“Mum, we’re off!” James called from the hallway.
Margaret stepped out—and froze. Emily looked radiant, like a flower in full bloom.
“Good heavens, Emily, you’re like a rose!” she exclaimed, rushing for her jewellery box. “Here, take my pendant—it’s perfect. James, you’re right—you’re a lucky man. She’s not just clever and kind, but a proper beauty. That makeup suits her wonderfully!”
“Mum, Emily’s perfect to me with or without it,” James grinned. “I’ve always said she’s special. Glad you see it too.”
“You can thank your father and me for raising you well enough to deserve her,” Margaret teased, hugging them. “With her intuition, she’d never have settled for less!”
“Oh, and about the flat—it’s taking a while,” James began, “but there’s something else… We’re expecting. We’ll rent somewhere, don’t worry.”
“Rent? Absolutely not!” Margaret cut in. “There’s plenty of room here. And how would we manage without Emily? She brings us all such joy!”
P.S. When their grandson arrived, Margaret rang her friends at once:
“Girls, take notes on how to pick a daughter-in-law! She’s given us a grandson—James’s eyes, my chin, Andrew’s hair! They’ve named him Oliver—Emily’s choice. And I just know he’ll grow up as kind and clever as she is!”