Chapter 2 - The Rules I Never Knew About
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Olivia remained on that plastic stool with both hands wrapped around a heavy ceramic plate. Soap bubbles slid down her wrists. Jessica stared at me as though she wasn’t sure whether I was real or something exhaustion had created.
My mother recovered first.
“Zayden!”
Carmen stood so quickly that her chair scraped backward.
“What a wonderful surprise. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?”
I looked at my daughter.
“Put the plate down, sweetheart.”
Olivia glanced at Carmen before she looked at me.
That tiny movement did something to me I still cannot properly describe.
She was asking permission with her eyes.
Not from me.
From my mother.
“Olivia,” I said more gently, “you don’t have to finish anything.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“But Grandma said—”
“I know what Grandma said.”
I walked into the kitchen, lifted her off the stool, and pulled her against my chest.
Her hands were hot.
Too hot.
The skin around several fingertips was bright red.
I turned toward Jessica.
“Why is she washing dishes?”
Jessica opened her mouth.
My mother answered from behind me.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Zayden. She’s five, not made of glass. Children should learn responsibility.”
I stared at her.
“And Jessica?”
“She’s hosting.”
“Hosting?”
I gestured toward the mountain of plates.
“You invited twenty people into my home, made my wife cook for them, and put my five-year-old daughter at the sink.”
Carmen gave a dismissive laugh.
“Your home? Zayden, please. We are family.”
One of the women at the table slowly picked up her purse.
I looked at every person in that living room.
“The party is over.”
Nobody moved at first.
So I raised my voice.
“Everybody out.”
A woman near the window murmured, “Carmen told us Jessica wanted to host.”
Jessica’s head snapped up.
My mother’s expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“Out,” I repeated.
Chairs scraped.
Handbags disappeared from countertops.
Women who had been laughing minutes earlier suddenly found the floor fascinating.
One guest tried to hand Jessica her empty glass on the way out.
I took it from her and placed it on the table.
“She’s not your servant.”
The woman flushed and hurried toward the door.
Within five minutes, the apartment was nearly silent.
Carmen stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed.
“You humiliated me.”
I almost laughed.
“You’re worried about humiliation?”
“You had no right to throw my friends out.”
“I had every right.”
I pointed toward the kitchen.
“My daughter’s hands are burned.”
“They are not burned. They’re red from water.”
“She’s five.”
“And spoiled.”
Jessica flinched.
That was when I noticed something else.
Not just her bandaged finger.
A faint bruise disappeared beneath the sleeve of her shirt.
I stepped toward her.
“What happened to your arm?”
“Nothing.”
Carmen sighed dramatically.
“Jessica bumps into everything. She’s always been clumsy.”
I looked at my wife.
“Jess.”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Please,” she whispered. “Not right now.”
My mother smiled.
That smile told me she believed she had won.
She thought Jessica’s silence was loyalty.
Or fear.
I carried Olivia toward the hallway.
“Come with me, baby.”
Her little arms tightened around my neck.
When we reached her bedroom, I sat her on the bed.
“Does Grandma make you wash dishes often?”
Olivia stared at her knees.
I waited.
Finally she whispered, “Only when you’re gone.”
My stomach dropped.
“What else happens when I’m gone?”
She immediately shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“Olivia, you’re not in trouble.”
“Grandma says telling Daddy grown-up things is tattling.”
I closed my eyes.
“What are Grandma’s rules?”
She started counting on her fingers.
“No cartoons until her room is clean.”
I frowned.
“Her room?”
“Grandma’s room.”
My chest tightened.
“Okay.”
“No snacks unless Grandma says.”
Another finger.
“Don’t sit on the couch when her friends come.”
Another.
“Don’t wake Mommy when Mommy is tired.”
I looked at her.
“Why is Mommy tired?”
Olivia’s voice became very small.
“Because Grandma keeps her busy.”
I could barely breathe.
“What happens if you break the rules?”
Olivia looked toward the closed bedroom door.
Then she whispered, “Sometimes Grandma takes dinner away.”
There it was.
The sentence I hadn’t been prepared for.
“How many times?”
She shrugged.
“Lots.”
I pulled her into my arms.
She remained stiff for several seconds before slowly relaxing against me.
Then she said something that broke me more than everything else.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you staying tonight?”
“Of course.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And the day after tomorrow?”
My throat closed.
“Yes.”
She finally started crying.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
She simply buried her face against my shirt and shook.
“I don’t like when you go on airplanes.”
I held my daughter while the truth settled over me.
For months, maybe longer, my child had associated my business trips with hunger, chores, fear, and her mother disappearing behind long sleeves.
I had been congratulating myself for providing a beautiful apartment.
Meanwhile, the two people I loved most had been afraid inside it.
When I returned to the living room, Jessica was quietly picking up glasses.
“Stop.”
She froze.
“You don’t have to clean this.”
My mother scoffed.
“Someone has to.”
I turned.
“You do.”
Carmen stared at me.
“What?”
“You made the mess. Clean it.”
Her face hardened.
“You’ve changed.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“I just finally came home.”
She laughed once.
Coldly.
Then she looked at Jessica.
“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
Jessica whispered, “Carmen, please.”
“No. Let him hear it.”
My mother turned back to me.
“She wants you against me.”
“I asked Olivia questions.”
That silenced her.
For the first time that evening, Carmen looked nervous.
“What did she say?”
Enough.
The question alone told me enough.
I walked toward my mother’s bedroom.
She followed quickly.
“Where are you going?”
“To pack your things.”
She grabbed my arm.
“You cannot throw me out.”
I looked at her hand until she released me.
“You’re leaving tonight.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Then Carmen said something I didn’t understand.
“You should ask your wife why she never told you.”
I stopped.
Carmen’s smile returned.
Not warm.
Victorious.
“Ask Jessica,” she said, “why she was so desperate to keep me living here.”
I turned toward my wife.
Jessica had gone completely pale.
May you like
And suddenly I realized there was another secret in my home.
One my mother believed could save her.
