Chapter 2
After the love letter incident, my mom was always on my case, telling me I wasn't good enough for a decent guy.
Once I started working, she began arranging dates for me.
She introduced me to a broke guy with a limp, an ex-con, and a middle-aged man who'd been divorced three times.
My mom always said, "I couldn't even land a good man, so you're even less likely."
But Eric never let go of my hand, not even for a second.
The way Eric cared for me really pissed my mom off.
No matter how outrageous her words were, Eric always took my side.
She turned her attention back to me.
"Claire, how many months along are you?" she asked.
I answered warily, "Almost four months."
My mom smiled, looking relieved.
She said with a smug grin, "Four months, huh? Guess you'll be getting those stretch marks soon.
"Claire, looks like it's finally your turn to get stretch marks. I got a whole belly full when I had you, and your dad couldn't stand it.
"He cheated on me. Just wait, once you get them, Eric will probably ditch you, too."
Seeing the satisfaction in my mom's smile sent a chill down my spine.
A bleak sadness washed over me.
We were mother and daughter, not enemies.
Why did my mom seem to be counting down the days until I got stretch marks? Why was she practically hoping Eric would cheat on me?
Shouldn't a mom want her daughter to be happy?
Just picturing how miserable I'd look after getting pregnant, my mom's excitement was impossible to miss.
Her eyes lit up as she rambled on and on.
She said, "Stretch marks? That's nothing. That's just the tip of the iceberg.
"You'll get fat, your skin will get all spotty, and you'll be so ugly nobody will want to look at you.
"After you have the baby, you'll leak pee, get all loose down there, and Eric won't even want to touch you. He'll cheat on you for sure."
"I went through all that pain. Why shouldn't you have to go through it, too?"
Even Eric, who was usually so patient, was finally pissed off by my mom.
Eric shot my mom a dirty look.
He said, "Emily, that's not happening.
"I've already booked Claire a $30,000 postnatal care center and hired a top-notch postpartum nanny. With professionals helping her recover, she won't turn out as you said.
"And even if Claire really did end up like that, I'd just feel sorry for her and blame myself. Cheating? That's never gonna happen."
My mom opened her mouth, her gaze turning vacant.
I thought she was about to throw another fit.
She'd probably complain that she never got to stay at a postpartum center when she was young, so why should I?
But she didn't.
She sat there, absentmindedly piling food onto Eric's plate, muttering, "Eat more."
There was jealousy in her eyes, but even more, there was loss and hurt.
My heart dropped with a sudden pang.
After all, my mom raised me all by herself.
Yeah, she was jealous, but her love for me was real, too.
She was getting old. Eric and I would do our best to let things slide and be as understanding as we could.
The Christmas Eve dinner wrapped up with a weird, uneasy vibe hanging in the air.
*****
Soon enough, I was well into my second trimester.
Eric took me to tour the postnatal care center, but when we arrived, the staff hit us with some unexpected news.
The staff member informed us, "Mrs. Foster, your mother has already canceled the luxury suite.
"If you have any questions, you'll need to discuss with her."
My heart plummeted to the floor.
I raced home to confront her, and as soon as I stepped inside, the glare from the massive, flashy gold bracelet on my mom's wrist nearly knocked me out.
I already knew exactly where that money came from.
I got even more pissed, grabbed her wrist, and confronted her, "When I got married, you said you never got any gold pieces, so why should I?
"I felt bad for you, so I gave you all my gold jewelry without even thinking twice.
"Mom, if you wanted gold, you could've just told me! I would've bought it for you. Why did you have to cancel my suite at the postnatal care center?"
The moment she heard "postnatal care center," my mom's eyes went red.
She glared at me, teeth clenched, and there was a cold, bone-deep hatred in her stare that made my skin crawl.
She slapped me hard across the face.
She snapped, "You've got the nerve to ask me that.
"When I had you, I never got anything like a postnatal care center. What makes you think you deserve it?"
I held my face, just froze for a second.