Chapter 3
The next morning I woke up to the smell of Mom making burritos.
I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and went straight to the kitchen. I grabbed three plates and split the
burritos between them.
I carried them to the table and yelled for Mark and Zoe to come eat.
When they showed up, Zoe picked up her plate but then frowned. “Mommy, where’s Grandma’s food?”
Mom was already glaring at me with a face like thunder. Just as she opened her mouth to bitch, I jumped in: “Grandma’s not hungry. Let’s just eat.”
“Besides, we’ve all got places to be–work and school. Grandma can fix herself something later when she gets
hungry. Not like she’s short on time or anything.”
I turned to Mom with my fakest smile: “God, it’s so nice having you here. I don’t even have to drag my ass out of bed
early to make breakfast anymore.”
“You can clean up the house a bit later too.”
Mom’s eyes bugged out. “Me? Clean?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we’ll all be gone, and you’ll just be sitting around doing nothing anyway. Oh, and we’re out of burritos. Pick up some more, would you? We all like the meat ones.”
I hurried Mark and Zoe to finish up, then we dumped our dirty plates in the sink and bolted out the door.
Without the whole “good daughter” bullshit hanging over my head, I felt like I could finally breathe.
But as soon as we got in the car, Mark started in on me.
“Becca, aren’t we being kind of shitty to your mom?”
“I mean, yeah, she’s a complainer, but making her do chores and sleep on the couch? What if she goes around telling everyone what a terrible daughter you are?”
I took a deep breath.
I couldn’t really blame Mark for thinking this way.
In my past life, after we got married, my mom had me completely brainwashed. I was always going on about how hard she had it raising three daughters by herself.
So I bought into that whole “parents can do no wrong” crap and gave her everything just to be called her most dutiful, most understanding daughter.
After years of that, Mark–who lost both his parents when he was young–started drinking the Kool–Aid too.
14:10
Reborn, My Family Tried to Bury Me, So I Burned It All Down!
18.6%
Chapter 3
Then I just smiled and said, “Let her talk all she wants. I’ve finally figured out what matters: the three of us being happy together.”
After work that day, I scooped up Zoe and called Mark to meet us for dinner out.
We were already digging into our appetizers when Mark finally showed up.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it was just the three of us. “Where’s your mom?”
Hearing his words, I just kept laying out napkins and forks. “At home.”
Mark frowned. “You didn’t ask her to come?”
I piled food onto his and Zoe’s plates. “Nope. Just us tonight. We’ll eat and head back.”
Mark still looked uncomfortable. “Isn’t that kind of… messed up? What if your mom cooked dinner and is sitting there waiting for us?”
I put down my fork and shot him a look. “Seriously? Based on everything you know about her, do you honestly think my mother would cook dinner and wait for us to come home?”
Mark shut up, but Zoe was shaking her head like crazy.
“Grandma’s always saying her back hurts and her legs hurt,” she said quietly. “Whenever she visits, you and Daddy do all the cooking.”
I smiled but didn’t push it. “Let’s just eat. We can take a walk after and then head home.”
By the time we finished dinner and our walk, it was already eight o’clock when we got back.
Mom was sprawled on the couch watching TV. The second she heard the door open, her face turned black as coal.
She jumped on me the second I walked in, and laid into me right away: “Where the hell have you been? Nobody made dinner, and I’ve been starving all day!”
I calmly replied, “Mark and I both got stuck working late. Nobody could pick up Zoe, so she had to hang out at the office with us. That’s why we’re late.”
“Mom, why haven’t you eaten anything? Can’t cook, or just weren’t hungry?”
Mom’s mouth twitched. “You’ve got some nerve! You made me sleep on that damn couch last night, and my back is killing me. I can barely stand up straight, let alone cook anything.”
While she complained, she rubbed her lower back dramatically, putting on her best poor–suffering–mother face.
