Mom’s cheerful voice filled the house.
“I’m back. It feels nostalgic being here after so long,” Mary said as she stepped inside.
“Welcome back, Mary. It’s been a while,” I said.
“Oh, Laura, you’re still here,” she replied, glancing at me.
It was my first time seeing Mary in a long while, and she was dressed head to toe in designer brands, with heavier makeup than before. She wore a confident smile as she looked at me, just as she always did.
“I’m so tired,” Mary said, collapsing onto the sofa.
I looked around, hoping to see my nephew, and finally spotted my mom holding him. He looked around with wide, curious eyes, which made him even cuter.
“What are you staring at? Hurry up and get lunch ready,” Mom said coldly when she noticed me watching my nephew.
“Mom, are you still making Laura do all the housework?” Mary asked in a mocking tone.
“Of course. She’s just in her room playing games all day, so she might as well be useful,” Mom replied.
“That’s true. She costs money just by being here,” Mary added with a smile, and they both continued their cheerful conversation.
I tried to have a normal conversation with Mary, asking her about her married life.
“How’s married life, Mary? It must be tough with taking care of a child and doing housework,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
She replied, “I don’t do any housework. I hate the thought of having to do chores every day like you do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, surprised.
“We have a housekeeper, so I don’t have to do anything,” she said with a smug smile.
I remembered that Mary’s husband is a doctor. When they got engaged, Mom and Mary were thrilled she was marrying someone wealthy.
“Wow, having a housekeeper must be nice. Is your husband busy with work?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, he is. He’s hardly home even on his days off because he often gets emergency calls.”
Despite our differences, it felt nice to have a somewhat friendly conversation. But then Mary’s tone changed.
“You have such an easy life. Do you even know how hard our parents work?” she said, stopping me as I was about to finish preparing the meal.
“What? What are you talking about?” I replied, confused.
“You’re still pretending to work, aren’t you? At your age, you should understand that because you’re not independent, Mom has to work harder,” she said sharply.
“I’ve told you and Mom many times. I work from home and make enough to support myself. You don’t have to worry,” I explained.
“If that’s true, then move out and live on your own. You say you’re earning money, but it’s probably just pocket change, right? You’ve never had to struggle like Mom,” she said, not believing a word I said.
To her, I was just freeloading off our parents, unable to be independent.
“I stay in this house because it belonged to Grandpa and Grandma. This place has so many precious memories for me,” I replied.
“I can’t believe you’re still hanging around here for that reason. If it were me, I wouldn’t want to stay in such an old house,” she said.
The house is old, but we renovated it for Grandpa, with changes to make it easier for him to get around. The kitchen and bathroom were remodeled, and we have newer appliances, so I don’t feel like it’s inconvenient.
Our grandparents loved Mary too, but maybe she felt annoyed by their ways, so she has no attachment to this place.
“For someone like me, marrying into wealth was the best choice. But that’s impossible for you,” Mary added, and Mom laughed along with her.
“You can’t get married, you can’t show us any grandkids, and you won’t even live on your own. You’re really useless,” Mom said.
“I don’t think marriage is everything. I make my own money, and I’m okay with that,” I said, trying to stay calm.
“Stop saying that and quit lying already. Dad, Mom, and I are all tired of your lies,” Mary said coldly.
Just then, my nephew started crying, and Mom shot me an angry look. I avoided her gaze and went back to the kitchen, frustrated, to finish preparing lunch in silence. I realized that trying to explain anything more to Mary or Mom would be pointless.
Even though Mary criticized me, she still ate everything I’d cooked. I’d heard she had something important to talk about, but by the time she left that evening, she hadn’t mentioned anything.
However, I noticed something strange about her behavior. She kept checking different areas around the house, like the upstairs rooms, bathroom, and kitchen. Since she moved out, we had been gradually remodeling these spaces, and her detailed inspection seemed odd.
But she left without saying anything, and I wondered when we’d see each other next.
The next morning, while I was making breakfast, Mom spoke up.