Chapter 2
Helen looked at her for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled.
"Alright, alright, I'll remember," she said.
She stuffed the chives into a bag, saying she'd take them home to eat herself.
As Helen was leaving, Emily noticed the bag wasn't sealed.
A few bright green leaves stuck out, waving right in front of her eyes.
She instinctively took a step back.
Helen saw her and laughed.
"You're such a scaredy-cat," she said.
Her laugh was quiet, but it left a little sting in Emily's heart, like a tiny thorn.
The day the news of Emily's pregnancy got out, Helen showed up at their door, carrying two old hens for soup.
She kicked off her shoes in the foyer, her voice echoing through the whole building.
"Looks like my grandson is finally on the way!" Helen announced.
Emily was sitting on the couch, sipping warm water. When she heard that, she paused, the rim of the cup still pressed to her lips.
David came out of the kitchen with a slight frown.
"Mom, it doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl," he said.
Helen set the chickens down on the floor.
"I was just saying, you guys are making a big deal out of nothing," she said.
She slipped on her slippers and walked straight over to Emily, fixing her gaze on Emily's stomach.
Emily was eight weeks along, and her belly was still flat, with nothing to see at all.
But Helen looked at her as if she could already feel the weight of the baby in her arms.
"From now on, you can't just eat whatever you want," Helen said.
"No cold food, no spicy food, and absolutely no takeout," she added.
Emily nodded.
"The doctor said I can just eat normally," Emily said.
Helen jumped in right away.
"What do doctors know? Hospitals run you through like a conveyor belt, and not one of them actually cares about you," she said.
David set his glass down on the coffee table.
"Mom, we've been following the doctor's advice for all the prenatal checkups," he said.
Helen glanced at David, her tone softening.
"I'm only doing this because I care about her," Helen said.
She kept saying that every single time after that.
She claimed it was all for Emily's own good, so every morning at six, she'd show up at their door with a pot of soup that didn't even have a pinch of salt.
She said it was for Emily's own good, so she confiscated every bit of coffee in the house, didn't even spare David's stash.
She insisted it was for Emily's own good, so she kept digging up random home remedies from the neighborhood chat and bombarding Emily with screenshots.
Emily didn't want any drama, so most of the time, she'd just text back a quick: [Okay.]
David was swamped with work, his project was in the final stretch, and he often didn't get home until after ten at night.
Every time he got home, Helen already had dinner waiting for him.
On the surface, everything looked perfectly fine.
But Emily was feeling more and more uncomfortable.
Helen never closed the kitchen door when she cooked, so the grease and smoke would drift all over the living room.
Her morning sickness was so intense that even the smell of onions or garlic made her gag.
One time, she just couldn't take it anymore and escaped to the balcony for some air.
Helen came after her, holding a spatula.
"What's wrong now?" Helen asked.
Emily held onto the railing and caught her breath.
Emily repeated, "The smell's a bit strong."
Helen took a quick sniff at her sleeve.
"Is it really that strong? I barely used any seasoning," she said.
Emily didn't say anything else.
But Helen just stood there, not moving.
"Emily, I'm not trying to nag, but now that you're pregnant, you can't be so particular," Helen said.
"I'm not being particular," Emily replied.
"If you can't eat this and can't even handle the smell, the baby has to suffer along with you," Helen said.
Her words stung, even though her tone was mild.
Emily turned around and saw David just walking in.
He was still holding his laptop bag, and when he caught Helen's last words, his expression darkened.
"Mom," David said.
Helen quickly wiped the spatula on her apron.
"I just said a couple of words to her, it's not like I was yelling," Helen said.
David moved to stand in front of Emily, blocking her from Helen.
"She's already feeling awful with the morning sickness. Don't stress her out," he said.
Helen let out a huff.
"Fine, I'll just stay out of it," Helen said.
Everyone just ate quietly after that.
That night, after David finished his shower, he found Emily sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.
He sat down beside her.
"Tomorrow, I'll talk to Mom and ask her to come by less often," David said.
Emily shook her head.
"She'll just get even more upset," she said.
"But you shouldn't have to hold it all in," David replied.
Emily gently touched her still-flat belly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't want you to be stuck in the middle," she said.
David was quiet for a moment, then pulled her into his arms.
"You're my wife. You don't always have to keep backing down," he said.
Emily leaned against his shoulder, her eyes stinging with tears.
She never told David what Helen had said on the phone in the kitchen that day.
"Girls these days just love to play the health card," Helen had said.
Emily had been folding a blanket in the living room at the time.
The kitchen door was half open, and even though Helen was trying to keep her voice down, every word still came through loud and clear.
Emily couldn't make out what the person on the other end was saying.
Helen gave a short laugh.