The truth was, Dustin had lied.
I was the one who hadn't wanted to come to his place, so he'd spent all that time downstairs begging me. That was the only reason we were late.
Still, I'd done a lot of thinking on the drive over.
I was a progressive mother. I didn't want to compete with my daughter-in-law for my son's attention, because that would only put him in an impossible position and tear his family apart.
I'd even done research online.
Apparently, the passenger seat had become something almost sacred between couples these days. If anyone else sat in it, they were a "homewrecker," deliberately trying to sabotage the marriage. Even siblings, even a mother and her own son, were supposed to avoid it.
So I swallowed the sting in my chest and forced a smile.
"That's right, it was me."
"I bought too many things. That's what took so long."
Marion glanced at me, her eyes dripping with contempt.
"Mom, coddling your son only ruins him. Stop covering for him."
"Tell me the truth. Did Dustin run into some little fling on the way over? Some old tramp? Is that why he was late?"
Old tramp.
The anger flared before I could stop it, but I kept the smile in place.
"Nothing like that."
"Marion, have you eaten yet? Where's the housekeeper?"
Seeing me back down so easily, Marion's expression softened a fraction.
"That old housekeeper kept making eyes at Dustin, so I fired her. I couldn't stand watching it anymore."
"Some women just refuse to accept their age, you know?"
"She was like that. A woman her age, putting on makeup around the house. If she wasn't trying to seduce Dustin, why else would she bother?"
I didn't believe for a second that a fifty-something housekeeper had been trying to seduce Dustin.
I'd met the woman plenty of times. She was honest, down-to-earth, and never wore a trace of makeup. She was one of the most sought-after housekeepers in the business. Now that she'd been let go, someone else would snap her up in a heartbeat.
So the whole "makeup" accusation was clearly a jab at me, a dig about the time I'd used a compact mirror in Dustin's car.
But I kept my voice even.
"It's fine. If you felt she wasn't a good fit, then letting her go was the right call. You're the lady of the house, after all."
"There's a new restaurant that just opened near your place. Let me take you both out to eat."
Marion didn't get up. She jerked her chin toward the kitchen.
"Always wanting to eat out. What, you think money grows on trees?"
"There's food in the kitchen. Just throw a few dishes together for me. Ask Dustin about my dietary restrictions. He's got them all written down in a notebook. You should memorize them too, going forward."
I had to take several deep breaths before I could speak.
"I don't know how to cook."
Marion stared at me, genuinely surprised.
"You don't know how to cook?"
"Then what exactly are you saying? You want me to wait on you hand and foot like some feudal-era daughter-in-law?"
"Everyone knows that these days, the daughter-in-law is the real treasure of the family."
"Every other mother-in-law out there keeps her head down and takes care of the whole household. Cooking, cleaning, all of it."
"But not you. You spend the whole year dolled up like a runway model, jetting around the world, living it up. Never missing a single luxury."
"Go ahead. Ask anyone. Find me one other mother-in-law who acts like you."
Even with all my patience, I couldn't hold back any longer.
"Marion, what exactly are you getting at?"
"I travel for work, not for fun—"
"Work?"
Marion let out a laugh, as if she'd just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"Sure. Right."
"You've got one foot in the grave already, and you're still clinging to the company, acting like it's so hard, like you're some kind of martyr. Isn't the whole point just to keep us dependent on you?"
"If it's really so exhausting, then hand the company over to me and Dustin. Problem solved. You can stay home and take care of us while we go run the business."
