My mother's whole face went red.
She'd been honest and decent her entire life, thin-skinned as paper.
Thrown out so bluntly by her son-in-law's mother, she ducked her head in embarrassment, her hands kneading the hem of her jacket over and over, her voice small as a mosquito's:
"You're right. I'll go now…"
With that, my mother walked slowly to the door and picked up the luggage off the floor.
Dirk didn't spare her another glance. He looked at me instead and spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world:
"Corinne, my mom had a hard time raising me. She's old now, her health isn't good, and I brought her here specially so she could enjoy her old age in comfort."
"From today on, you'll handle everything in this house and take good care of my mom. Don't let her lift a finger."
At that, my mother stopped short.
She turned back to Dirk, her tone humble and full of worry:
"Dirk, Corinne works so hard every day. She's often too worn out to even eat or sleep. Where would she find the time to wait on an elder…"
Used up and cast out on the spot, my mother hadn't said a word for herself.
But the moment she saw me wronged, her eyes went red with the ache of it.
Trina gave a cold snort:
"Country people, always making a fuss."
"What daughter-in-law doesn't wait on her husband's parents? My back's hurt for years, and I never once made Corinne bring me tea or water. I've been more than good to her."
"Now I'm only asking her to care for me in my old age. Isn't that exactly how it should be?"
Dirk nodded along:
"That's right. A woman marries into a family to run a household. Waiting on her husband's parents is only natural."
"These past eighteen years my mom was being generous. For the child's sake, she let it go."
"Now the boy's in college and hardly comes home. It's time Corinne showed some devotion. We can't keep spoiling her."
My mother opened her mouth, wanting to say something more for me.
But I got there first and stopped her, nodding to Dirk and Trina.
"You're both right."
"I really should show my devotion properly."
Seeing me give in so readily, Dirk looked at me the way you'd look at a child who had finally learned some sense.
Trina folded her arms across her chest and smiled, satisfied:
"Good that you understand."
Only my mother stared at me, disbelieving, her eyes full of confusion.
I explained nothing. I only took the luggage from her hands and led her out the door.
For eighteen years my mother had shouldered this household, bitter work and no rest, not a single day off.
She really did deserve to go home and rest.
After I dropped my mother at the train station, she looked at me with tears in her eyes, her gaze full of worry:
"Corinne, you can barely keep up with your own job. How are you going to manage from here on…"
I smiled. "Don't worry, Mom. I can handle it."
The tears spilled down her face:
"It's all my fault, useless, can't do a thing to help you…"
I wiped the tears from her cheeks:
"Mom, you've helped me plenty already."
"The rest of the road, I'll walk it fine on my own."
She thought I was still putting on a brave face, and it pained her:
"Corinne, don't push yourself, whatever you do."
"If it ever gets to be too much, come home. I'll take care of you and the boy for the rest of my life, gladly."
I reached out and held my mother's rough hands, looked into her eyes, and said it word by word:
"Mom, don't worry. I know exactly what I'm doing."
I, Corinne Henson, have never been one to go looking for trouble.
But I am absolutely not a soft persimmon for anyone to squeeze.
I knew my mother-in-law had faked that bad back for eighteen years, all so she wouldn't have to help with my postpartum recovery, wouldn't have to raise the child.
But the debts they ran up cheating me, exploiting my mother, driving my mother out.
Every last one, with interest, I would collect back.
