My heart dropped hard.
"How do you know the code to my place?"
Dudley raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
Julia took his coat off him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I told him," she said.
"He's coming to see his mother. It's easier if he has the code."
I let out a laugh with no humor in it.
"So you gave my ex-wife's — my home's code to your ex-husband, and didn't even mention it to me?"
Julia frowned at me.
"It's just a door code. Don't blow it out of proportion."
Dudley sat down next to his mother and glanced at the chicken soup on the table.
He immediately covered his nose and looked at my mother.
"My mother has high cholesterol. She can't have anything this greasy."
"Now that there's someone unwell in the house, the cooking should take the sick person's health into account."
"Ma'am, be more careful next time."
I said coldly, "That was made by my mother for my wife. If your mother wants something, she can make it herself."
Dudley turned to Julia.
"Your husband's got quite a temper on him."
Julia lowered her voice and scolded me. "Dudley's just worried about his mother. What's wrong with him saying a couple of things?"
"Since your mom's the one cooking, it wouldn't kill her to be a little more careful."
Dudley let it drop, turned, and scanned the living room, frowning again.
"Why's this place such a mess?"
"My mother's not well. She needs a clean space to recover."
"Julia, why haven't you hired a cleaner?"
Julia looked around, and then, unbelievably, she nodded.
"It is a bit messy."
"Mom, you're home all day with nothing to do. Couldn't you tidy up a little while you're at it?"
"Dudley's mother isn't well. Looking at this mess is bad for her state of mind."
My mother froze where she stood, at a loss.
That was it. I was done holding back.
"Julia, my mother isn't just taking care of you. She's taking care of the baby, cooking three meals a day, and getting up in the night to help. She's a person, not a machine. How is she supposed to do all of it?"
"And you? Since the baby was born, how many diapers have you changed? How many bottles have you made? The baby cries and all you do is call for me."
"If the mess bothers you so much, clean it up yourself."
Julia couldn't keep her face steady after that.
"When a mother-in-law comes to help through the postpartum period, isn't this exactly what she does? How does it turn into some huge favor the second it's your family?"
My mother quickly grabbed my arm.
"Julius, stop fighting."
"Julia's just out of her postpartum recovery. Don't get her upset."
She bent down and started gathering the baby clothes off the couch.
"It's my fault, I didn't tidy up. I'll clean it right now."
"It'll be spotless in no time."
Watching her bend down like that, something in my chest clamped shut until I could barely breathe.
My father died young. She was proud and stubborn, and she raised my sister and me on her own.
Now, for my sake, she was bowing her head in front of Julia and Dudley.
I caught the clothes out of her hands.
"Mom, leave it."
"Whoever thinks it's dirty can clean it."
Dudley laughed out loud against the back of the couch.
"Julia, looks like life hasn't been so great for you since you remarried."
He stood and came over to stand in front of me.
"Julius, don't get too pleased with yourself."
"If my job didn't keep me busy and traveling all the time, if she hadn't been so unbearably lonely at home on her own, do you think she'd have divorced me?"
"You were never anything more than a stand-in she found."
