Chapter 3 - The One CallTwenty minutes later, the front door opened. "Delphine?"
Marcus walked into the kitchen carrying his laptop bag. Then he stopped. Our youngest sat at the counter eating crackers. The older one was spreading peanut butter onto another stack. I was sitting at the table crying because I felt miserable, hungry, and completely worn down by his mother.
"Where's… dinner?"
"In the trash," Priscilla answered before I could.
"WHAT?"
"I threw it out."
Marcus slowly set his laptop bag on the floor, looked inside the trash can — his untouched steak dinner sitting crookedly on top of my soup. He looked at me. Then the kids. Then his mother.
"Mom, did you do this?"
Priscilla lifted her chin. "Someone had to remind your wife what marriage means."
Marcus stared at her. I knew that look — not mildly annoyed, not irritated. Angry enough that he usually needed a moment before saying anything. I expected him to tell her to leave.
Instead, his expression settled. He went strangely calm. Then, to my complete confusion, he smiled.
"You know what, Mom? You're absolutely right."
Priscilla relaxed immediately.
"Marcus?"
He lifted a hand toward me without looking away from her. "Actually, thank you."
"For what?"
"For looking out for me." She shot me a small satisfied glance. "If takeout is unacceptable," Marcus continued, "then I think you deserve a reminder."
"A gift?"
May you like
"In a way." He pulled out his phone. "I just need to make one call."
"Anything for my boy," Priscilla said, sitting down across from me.
Related Stories
