Watching her grow thinner by the day from sheer exhaustion, I couldn't bear it anymore. I suggested she take a break and let me hire a postpartum nurse instead.
What did Seth say at the time?
"Do you know how expensive those nurses are? Besides, your mom is family. She'll take better care of you and the baby than some stranger ever could."
And now?
Now that they were demanding my mother pay for her stay, suddenly she was a stranger.
Seeing my mother frozen in place, Cornelia frowned, her tone sharpening with impatience:
"Mrs. Henson, just hand over the money and be on your way. We still need to call in a cleaning crew for a deep clean. The whole house needs to be disinfected."
My mother's face went rigid. "Disin... fected?"
Seth jumped in to explain:
"Mom, our family has standards. We like things clean. You're from the countryside, after all. There are so many germs in those villages. It wouldn't be good if any of that lingered in the house."
"This past month, my mother was away traveling, so we had no choice. But once you're back in the village this time, unless there's something important, it's probably best you don't come again."
My mother's head snapped toward Seth.
Something clicked into place.
I couldn't stop myself from asking him:
"So that's the real reason you didn't come home this entire month?"
The whole month my mother had been here taking care of me during my postpartum recovery.
Seth hadn't come home once.
Whenever I asked why, he said either that work was busy or that he was afraid coming home too late would disturb me and the baby.
It wasn't until today, the day my recovery period ended, that he walked through the door right behind his mother.
I'd never thought twice about it.
My mother had even worried that Seth was overworking himself. She kept offering to stew chicken soup and deliver it to his office.
Every time, he refused. Said he didn't like chicken soup.
But the truth was, it had nothing to do with chicken soup. Nothing to do with being too busy to come home.
He simply couldn't stand being around my mother.
How pathetic was that?
My mother was known in our village for keeping a spotless house. For as long as I could remember, our home was immaculate.
During this month in the city taking care of me, she'd mopped the floors every single day until they gleamed like mirrors.
But in Seth and Cornelia's mouths, she was something dirty that needed to be sanitized.
I was about to speak up for her when she tugged at my sleeve first, whispering:
"Prudence, it's fine. I'll pay and go."
"Don't make trouble on my account. Please."
Her voice trembled as she said it.
I knew what that trembling meant. She was afraid.
Afraid I'd be put in a difficult position. Afraid I'd suffer because of her. Afraid that if I turned on my in-laws, my life in this house would become unbearable.
She was always like this. Always thinking of me first.
Even after being humiliated this badly, the only person on her mind was me.
I looked down at her hands, the calluses thick and rough across her palms.
I thought about the month she'd spent working around the clock without a single day of rest.
The ten pounds she'd lost, her frame shrinking until her clothes hung loose.
The way she'd stood on tiptoe, holding my IV bag above her head so she could walk me to the bathroom.
Then I looked at Cornelia, standing there like she owned the world.
I thought about the day I gave birth, how she'd wheeled her suitcase out the door without a backward glance.
The vacation photos she'd posted on social media all month, beaming in every single one.
Seth's words echoing in my head: "Your mom is an outsider."
And just like that, something inside me went still.
"Fine."
"I'll pay on my mother's behalf."
I pulled out my phone, ready to transfer the money.
Cornelia's brow creased immediately:
"Absolutely not. You're a James family wife. Your money is James family money."
