Page 17 of The Inn on Bluebell Lane
“I doubt Mum minds,” Matthew had said with a shrug. “She wants to spoil us.”
Spoil you, maybe, Ellie had thought with a sigh. The trouble was, it seemed Gwen did mind, although not enough to let Ellie use the kitchen, which left them in an unhappy limbo… something she was determined to tackle today. They would have to get to the bottom of this tension, somehow, even if it was difficult, and most likely excruciatingly awkward. Besides, Ellie needed something to do, now more than ever with the children at school, even if it was just making dinner. Her visa didn’t allow her to get a job yet, but she could still make herself useful.
Trying not to feel too lonely, Ellie headed back toward Bluebell Inn, alone amidst the little groups of parents still chatting as they walked along the high street. She felt too dispirited even to meet someone’s eye, not that anyone was even looking at her, and so she walked quickly, her head down.
Halfway back her to the house, her phone pinged with a text, and her heart lifted when she saw it was from Elise, her best friend from Connecticut. Just wanted to wish you well on the first day of school. Meet a nice mom!
If only.
Isn’t it about three in the morning there? Ellie texted back.
Yes, I set my alarm. Couldn’t let it go by without something from me!
Tears stung Ellie’s eyes and she blinked them back. She missed her friend. She missed her house. She missed the weather; today was gray and chilly, but back in Connecticut, according to the weather app on her phone, which she checked far too much, it still felt like summer, sunny and warm, with families spending their weekends at the beach. The truth was, a little over a week into their Great Welsh Adventure, Ellie still missed everything.
Back at the house, Matthew was continuing to make alarming sounds from upstairs, hammering and ripping and generally causing mayhem. Ellie had steered clear of the four guest bedrooms he seemed to be renovating simultaneously; she was not a DIY person, and, in any case, Matthew seemed to be doing fine on his own. Too fine, it sometimes seemed, although perhaps she was being a bit petty.
He’d emerged from whichever bedroom he was working on whenever she asked him to, to play with Ben and Josh, or read Ava a story—Jess seemed to prefer her own company these days—but she still had to ask, and that was starting to annoy her. He’d been so good with the kids back in Connecticut. Even before he’d been made redundant, he’d been an active, interested father, albeit one who worked a lot of hours. When he’d lost his job, he’d tried to see it as an opportunity, but his optimism had definitely begun to flag long before the move to Wales. She was glad he seemed to be getting his mojo back, but she’d still like him to do things without being asked. To think of doing them himself first.
Ellie ventured into the kitchen, bolstering her courage when she saw Gwen sitting at the table, a cup of tea cradled between her palms.
“School drop-off went all right?” she asked in a too-bright voice as Ellie sat down across from her.
“Yes, I suppose so… I felt a little emotional, to tell you the truth.” She tried to smile but felt her lips wobble. She did not want to cry in front of Gwen.
“I remember I cried when I dropped Matthew off,” Gwen reminisced with a small smile. “I didn’t with Sarah—I had Matthew at home, and I think I felt too exhausted all the time. But with Matthew…”
Ellie smiled and nodded, because she’d always suspected Gwen had a soft spot for her youngest child. It was nice to hear a little bit about how Gwen had been with Matthew, back then. “It’s strange, to think they’ll always be at school now,” she remarked. “A certain period of my life is over.” It felt like grief, but she wasn’t sure she could explain that to Gwen.
“Anyway,” her mother-in-law continued in a brisker tone, demonstrating that typically British stiff upper lip, “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I think children are always ready for school, more than the mummies are sometimes!”
She was definitely not going to share now how she felt as if she was grieving. “You might be right.” Ellie took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to tackle the thorny topic of sharing a kitchen. “Look, Gwen,” she began, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Her mother-in-law was immediately alert, her gaze wary. “Oh?”
“It’s just, we’re going to be here for a while, aren’t we?” Ellie said, trying to pitch her voice as friendly, easy, light. “And it isn’t good for anyone if we feel like guests, and you feel put upon.”
Gwen bristled a little, drawing herself up. “I hope I’ve not given the impression that I’ve been put upon,” she returned rather stiffly.
“No, no, not at all,” Ellie assured her. “You’ve been wonderful, absolutely amazing, and I’m sure you’d carry on the same way. The truth is, I’m mentioning this for me as much as for you. I miss my own home. My own kitchen. And I want to have something to do.”
“That’s understandable…” Gwen murmured after a moment, still looking wary.
“So, I was hoping we could share the cooking, shopping, housework, all that,” Ellie continued determinedly. “I want things to be easier for you, but I’d also like to be involved. I feel a bit purposeless at the moment, to tell you the truth. I always thought I’d go back to work when the kids were all in school, but that’s not possible now, with the visa situation.” She tried to smile, but Gwen simply stared at her, silent.
Ellie braced herself for a polite rejection. That’s very kind of you to offer, Ellie, but… What would she do then? Drift around like a guest in her mother-in-law’s home, she supposed. Maybe she could find some volunteering to do. She’d worked for a literacy charity, before she’d had the kids. Maybe she could find something similar here, in a volunteer capacity.
“Very well,” Gwen said after an uncertain pause. “If that’s what you want. It makes sense, I suppose. Shall we draw up a… a schedule?”
“Oh.” Ellie couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. She realized she really hadn’t been expecting Gwen to agree, but she was glad she had. Very glad. Perhaps now they’d finally find some common ground. “All right, sure, that would be great.”
“I’ll get a piece of paper.” Gwen rose from the table and hunted through one of the drawers of the Welsh dresser, her movements slow and laborious, her head bowed.
Ellie watched her uncertainly, half-wanting to take it all back. She’d succeeded in her mission, but somehow, as she watched Gwen’s slumped figure, she didn’t quite feel as if she had. She felt as if she’d taken something from Gwen and hadn’t actually gained anything herself—but it didn’t have to be that way, surely? They could make this work?
These were growing pains, she told herself. This was progress. They just had to get used to each other… if they could.
CHAPTER 10