Chapter 2 - The Rule Nobody Told Me AboutThe drive to the hospital was silent.
Not peaceful.
Silent in the way a room becomes silent immediately before something explodes.
Lucille sat in the passenger seat with one hand resting on her belly.
I kept glancing at her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You don't have to say you're fine.”
She gave me a tired smile.
“I know.”
That answer hurt more than anything.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“What did Mom mean?”
Lucille looked out the window.
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
She was quiet.
“Lucy.”
“I don't know what she meant.”
I sighed.
“Then tell me what you do know.”
She didn't answer.
The hospital lights appeared ahead.
I pulled into the emergency entrance.
A nurse brought a wheelchair.
Lucille protested.
“I can walk.”
The nurse smiled.
“I know you can. Let us spoil you for five minutes.”
Lucille looked at me.
I nodded.
“Please.”
She sat.
As the nurse wheeled her away, I walked beside her.
Then the nurse asked a question.
“Is this her first baby?”
“Yes.”
I answered immediately.
Lucille looked at me.
The nurse smiled.
“Then Dad looks more nervous than Mom.”
Lucille laughed.
It was the first real laugh I'd heard from her all evening.
I almost cried.
After the examination, the doctor told us the contractions were mild.
Braxton Hicks.
The baby was fine.
Lucille needed rest.
Hydration.
Less physical strain.
No heavy cleaning.
The doctor looked directly at me.
“She's eight months pregnant. She shouldn't be pushing herself.”
I nodded.
“I understand.”
The doctor smiled.
“Good.”
But I didn't understand.
Not until that moment.
Because the problem wasn't that Lucille didn't know she needed rest.
The problem was that she had spent years being trained to believe her needs came last.
When we returned home, the house was dark.
My mother and sisters were waiting.
I walked into the living room.
Nobody spoke.
I took off my jacket.
Then I said,
“Mom.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“Tell me the truth.”
She sighed.
“I already told you.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You told me the dishes were intentional.”
She looked away.
“Why?”
Sarah interrupted.
“Because Lucy needs to understand that marriage requires sacrifice.”
I stared at her.
“Sacrifice?”
“Yes.”
“Who sacrificed tonight?”
Sarah shrugged.
“She washed dishes.”
I laughed.
“She is carrying your nephew.”
“She volunteered.”
“No.”
I turned toward Lucille.
“She never volunteers for anything around you anymore.”
Lucille's eyes filled with tears.
Sarah frowned.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means she knows you'll criticize her if she says no.”
Jessica crossed her arms.
“That's dramatic.”
“Is it?”
I looked at her.
“Remember when Lucy went to the hospital last year?”
Jessica's face changed.
“You're bringing that up now?”
“Yes.”
Lucille looked at me.
I continued.
“You told her she was being selfish because she couldn't come to Mom's dinner.”
Jessica looked uncomfortable.
“She wasn't seriously sick.”
“She had pneumonia.”
Silence.
I turned to Chloe.
“And you?”
She looked down.
“What did I do?”
“You borrowed her car for six months.”
“I needed it.”
“You returned it with the bumper damaged.”
“I paid for it.”
“No.”
I looked at Lucille.
“She paid for it.”
Lucille shook her head.
“David, stop.”
I turned toward her.
“Why?”
She whispered,
“Because I don't want them to hate me.”
That sentence destroyed whatever remained of my loyalty to my family's version of peace.
I turned back to my mother.
“You taught her that.”
Mom looked shocked.
“I never told her to be afraid.”
“You didn't have to.”
She stared at me.
“You created the rules.”
Her face hardened.
“What rules?”
I counted them on my fingers.
“Don't embarrass the family.”
“Don't say no to Mom.”
“Always help your sisters.”
“Never complain.”
“Never make David choose.”
Lucille looked at me.
I continued.
“And the worst one?”
My mother didn't answer.
“You made my wife believe that if she wanted to belong, she had to earn it.”
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
Then she whispered,
“Because that's what I had to do.”
Nobody moved.
I frowned.
“What?”
My mother sat down.
“When I married your father, his mother made me work for every bit of approval.”
I stared at her.
She continued.
“I cooked.”
“I cleaned.”
“I served his family.”
“And when I complained, I was told I wasn't a real wife.”
My mother wiped her eyes.
“I swore I would never let my daughters live like that.”
“Then why did you make Lucy?”
She looked at me.
“I didn't realize I was repeating it.”
I wanted to believe her.
But something still didn't make sense.
I looked at Sarah.
“Why did Mom say the dishes were intentional?”
Sarah looked at my mother.
My mother looked down.
Then Sarah whispered,
“Because we were testing her.”
My stomach dropped.
“Testing her for what?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Lucille.
She looked terrified.
I turned toward Sarah.
“For what?”
Sarah finally spoke.
“To see if she was really committed to this family.”
I stared at her.
“You left dirty dishes for a pregnant woman to prove her loyalty?”
Sarah's voice cracked.
“You don't understand.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I understand perfectly.”
Then Chloe spoke.
“There's more.”
Everyone turned.
Chloe was crying.
“Mom made us do it.”
My mother looked at her.
“Chloe.”
But Chloe continued.
“She said if Lucy refused, you would finally see what she was really like.”
I looked at my mother.
“What she was really like?”
Mom stood.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From my wife?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“From a mistake.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What mistake?”
My mother's face turned pale.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Before you married Lucille, I found something.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
“From who?”
My mother looked at Lucille.
Lucille's face went white.
I turned toward my wife.
“Lucy?”
She whispered,
“I don't know what she's talking about.”
My mother walked to a cabinet.
She opened the drawer.
Then she pulled out an old envelope.
She placed it on the table.
My name was written across the front.
My handwriting.
My signature.
But I had never seen it before.
I stared at the envelope.
“What is that?”
May you like
My mother whispered,
“The letter that was supposed to end your marriage before it ever began.”
Related Stories
