Page 38 of The Inn on Bluebell Lane

“I’ll try to stop,” Ellie replied as she slid off the stool. “For my sake as well as yours.” She walked back into the sunroom, where Josh and Zach were still happily immersed in their massive Lego creation. “Come on, Josh,” she said as she stooped down to touch him on the shoulder. “I’m afraid we need to go. It’s getting late, and Granny will be wondering where we are.” After a second’s pause, she added quickly, “Daddy, too.” She turned to Emma, who clearly hadn’t missed that little exchange. “Maybe we could have Zach over sometime? Return the favor…?”

Emma smiled easily. “That would be brilliant.”

Ellie hoped Gwen wouldn’t mind an extra person adding to the general chaos. She still sometimes felt as if she had to tiptoe around her mother-in-law, although she wondered sometimes if that was more in her head than Gwen’s. Things had started to feel as if they were getting better… until Gwen had become distracted, a bit distant. She really needed to ask her mother-in-law what was going on, for both their sakes.

“Thanks for having him!” she smiled at Emma as they left, and then she and Josh were walking back through Llandrigg in the evening sun which turned everything golden. Really, it was a beautiful place, Ellie thought as they passed the village green, with the church and terraced cottages, the rolling hills in the distance a stunning backdrop to the quaintness. Ellie stood still for a moment, simply drinking it all in, grateful for the beauty of the place, and grateful even that she was grateful, because she knew she wasn’t often enough.

“Look at those clouds, Mom,” Josh said, tugging on her sleeve, and Ellie noticed the billowing purple clouds that had gathered on the horizon. “Do you think it’s going to rain?”

The blue sky was, Ellie saw, rapidly fading as the clouds scudded across the sky. Well, at least she’d enjoyed it while it had lasted, she thought as the first fat drops splattered on the sidewalk in front of them, and grabbing Josh’s hand, she started to run.

They were laughing and wet by the time they made it back to Bluebell Inn, shucking off their soaked coats before coming into the kitchen, where everyone was gathered around the table, Toby sprawled underneath, drinking tea and eating, of all things, Welsh cakes.

“Sarah brought dinner,” Gwen told Ellie with a smile, as it was her night to cook. “I’ve already popped it in the Aga.”

“Oh… wow. That was kind of her.”

And it was, although, in truth, Ellie didn’t know how she felt about it. She’d barely seen Sarah since they’d arrived; admittedly, Sarah lived in the next village over and her children were at the comprehensive in Abergavenny, so there wasn’t much chance to run into her, but still. It would have been nice to get to know her a bit more. She’d hoped to call her sister-in-law a friend, but she still felt like more of a stranger.

Ellie glanced down at her children, all seeming quite contented as they munched on their cakes. It seemed as if they liked raisins, after all. “Well, I don’t suppose anyone’s going to need to eat anything soon, anyway,” she said with a smile. “These cakes look delicious.”

“Me and Granny made them!” Ava piped up, looking proudly delighted. “Do you want one, Mummy?”

Mummy, not Mommy. Already, Ava was changing; they all were. It was inevitable, and a good thing, but it still gave her a funny little pang, to hear them sounding so British. So Welsh, even.

“I’d love one, Ava,” she told her youngest, and she took one from the baking tray, nibbling it. Her children might now like raisins, but she still didn’t, not that she was going to admit as much now, or ever. “Where’s Dad?”

“In the sitting room,” Gwen said. “He came in to say hello to everyone, but I think he’s feeling a bit tired.”

And a bit out of sorts, Ellie suspected.

“How’s your day been?” she asked Gwen, and her mother-in-law gave her a surprisingly sweet and sudden smile.

“It’s been rather nice, actually. Ava and I did some baking, as you can see—”

“The Welsh cakes!” Ava chimed in. “I flipped them, too.”

“Yes, and everyone has decided they like them with raisins, after all.”

Ellie knew there wasn’t any sting in her mother-in-law’s words, but she felt it all the same. She was the one who had said they wouldn’t like them, admittedly and understandably because they never had before. But maybe she’d been too quick to assume, to judge. She should have given those cakes a chance, she thought wryly, and her children and mother-in-law, too.

“I’m glad,” she said, and meant it.

Finished with their snack, the children drifted off, still seeming happy enough, and Ellie and Gwen were alone in the kitchen. Gwen had started tidying up, and Ellie began to load the dishwasher with cups, both of them working in companionable silence until Gwen noticed what she was doing.

“Actually, those have to be handwashed,” Gwen said, biting her lip. “Sorry, I know it’s a bit of a faff…” She ducked her head in obvious apology.

“No, no, I’m the one who is sorry.” Hurriedly, Ellie took the cups out of the dishwasher; they were porcelain, with a gold rim. She should have realized they weren’t dishwasher safe. “I’m still feeling my way around here,” she confessed.

“I know you are.” To Ellie’s surprise, Gwen put a hand on her arm. “I know this can’t be easy, Ellie. I’m sorry if I make things difficult. I probably do. In fact, I’m sure I do. I don’t mean to, but I suppose I’m not used to sharing my space, and I’m afraid I put my foot in it more often than not. But I am pleased you’re all here, truly. And I’m sorry. For… for all the times it seems as if I’m not.”

“Oh, Gwen…” Ellie was incredibly touched by her mother-in-law’s unexpected emotional outburst. “That’s so very kind of you to say, but you don’t make things difficult, honestly.” As she said it, she realized she actually meant it; her mother-in-law hadn’t done anything wrong; Ellie had just been so touchy all the time. “If anyone is making things difficult,” Ellie confessed with a grimace, “I’m sure it’s me. I just feel like I don’t know how to be sometimes. Here, I mean.” With Gwen, with Matthew, with her own children. She’d thought she’d known how much she’d be giving up in moving to Wales, but she hadn’t realized she’d feel as if she’d lost herself along the way. “And that,” she told Gwen, “has nothing to do with you.”

“That’s understandable,” Gwen said quietly. “About not knowing how to be, I mean. It’s such a big change for you. A lot to get used to, as well as helping the children to adjust, too, and with the added stress of Matthew breaking his arm…” She smiled, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know if I could do it, to be honest, Ellie. I… I admire you.”

“Thank you.” Ellie thought this was the most honest conversation, as well as the most encouraging, that she’d ever had with her mother-in-law. Maybe she’d misjudged Gwen all these years. She felt as if her mother-in-law understood far more than she’d ever given her credit for. “Growing pains, I guess,” she said with a crooked smile. “For all of us, Matthew included.” Ellie thought of how she’d wanted someone to talk to. Was it Gwen, after all? “I’m trying to be patient with him,” she confessed in a low voice, “but I’m afraid I don’t feel very patient. He seems very… very sorry for himself right now.” Belatedly, she realized she was talking about this woman’s son. What if Gwen turned defensive? She might have ruined their fragile friendship before it had even truly begun.

“You’re right, he is,” Gwen replied matter-of-factly, and Ellie had to suppress a sudden laugh of surprise. “I gave him a talking-to about it, actually, and I was hoping he’d speak to you. He’s finding this all hard, but it’s coming across as self-pity, which, as you’ve rightly implied, is not a very attractive quality. But I should probably leave it there, as I don’t want to interfere.” Gwen gave a little sigh. “You are being patient, Ellie, and I hope Matthew works up the nerve to talk honestly with you. Give him a bit more time.”