On the drive to my son's place, I mentioned I'd like to stay one night at his house and leave the next morning.
The moment he heard that, his expression shifted. "Mom, the house is a mess. You should really just stay at a hotel."
I frowned. "Your own mother can't stay one night?"
"My wife doesn't allow anyone else to sleep over."
"I'll call her and explain."
When the call connected, Maxine Henson's tone was clearly unhappy, but she agreed in the end.
I knew she was upset, so the second time I visited, I made a point of buying a gold bracelet as a gift for her.
But the moment I arrived at the front door, I saw a piece of paper taped to it.
It read: No demented old hags or dogs allowed!
My whole body trembled. The color drained from my face.
My son, Terence James, rushed to explain. "Mom, don't be upset. She didn't mean anything by it. Just don't stay overnight and everything will be fine."
I was so furious I laughed. "It's fine. I'm not upset."
"I paid for this house and I can't even stay one night."
"Then neither of you should be living here either."
I turned around and called a real estate agent to sell the house at a discount.
...
I stood in the doorway, staring at the note taped to the front door.
I couldn't stop shaking.
No wonder, on the drive over, when I'd tried to call Maxine to tell her I'd bought her a gold bracelet specifically to smooth things over.
After all, the last time I'd stayed here overnight, I could tell. Maxine hadn't made a scene to my face, but her eyes, her reactions—the displeasure had been impossible to miss.
I didn't want the two of them fighting over me. I didn't want my son caught in the middle, torn between his wife and his mother.
So I figured I'd buy a bracelet to win her over.
But she never picked up.
I even suspected that after my last visit, she'd blocked my number.
Terence noticed the look on my face.
He quickly pushed the door open. "Mom, come in. Sit down."
I walked inside without a word.
The second I sat down, he brought me a glass of water. "Mom, have you booked your hotel for tonight?"
"I have," I said flatly.
I noticed the visible relief that washed over him when he heard my answer. His smile widened. "Good. I was worried you wouldn't have time to arrange it on such short notice."
A little while later, Maxine came home from work.
The moment she walked in and saw me, something flickered across her face.
But perhaps because I was still her mother-in-law, she hesitated for a beat, then forced a thin smile. "Mom, what brings you here again?"
"I—"
I was about to answer when Terence hurried out of the kitchen and cut me off. "Babe, Mom's planning a trip up north, so she stopped by to see us."
"She'll leave right after dinner."
The tension in Maxine's brow finally eased when she heard that last part.
"Fine. I'll help you in the kitchen."
"Thanks, babe."
The two of them disappeared into the kitchen, and it couldn't have been more than a minute before—whether Maxine couldn't hold it in or whether she wanted me to hear—her voice cut through the walls, sharp and cold.
"Terence, this is the last time. Your mother's too senile to remember, but did you forget too?"
Hearing Maxine call me senile.
The glass of water trembled in my hands.
Ever since my son married her, I'd done everything I could to give them their space as a couple.
I'd bought them this very house they were living in.
Two point seven million dollars. Paid in full.
I'd even thrown in a BMW.
