Chapter 2

That night, Mom had a heart attack.

At the hospital, the doctor said she'd need long-term care and couldn't be left alone.

Henry called from Landia, sounding impatient. "Cheney, I'm in the middle of a crucial project. I can't leave. Can you take care of Mom for a while?"

That "while" turned into three years.

The warm water was ready, so I turned the faucet back on.

When I was halfway through washing the dishes, Henry walked in carrying a few empty plates. "Hey, I'm leaving these here."

He dropped them down without much care, and the plates nearly toppled over.

I steadied them.

"By the way, Cheney." Henry leaned against the counter, watching me. "Are you still dating that girl?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"I heard she's a teacher. How's her salary?"

"Not bad."

"Not bad? How much is 'not bad'?" Henry grinned. "No offense, Cheney, but let me give you some advice.

"You're twenty-six already. Time to get real. Try to date a girl who's an only child from a rich family. Then you won't have to worry about buying a house or a car. Being a live-in son-in-law is way easier."

I stayed quiet.

"Mom thinks so, too," Henry went on. "Look at me. My girlfriend's family runs a factory. We're tying the knot next year, and Mom can't be happier."

I knew that.

Mom always said, "Look at Henry."

"Oh, and one more thing," Henry said, pulling a small box out of his bag. "I brought you an old lighter. I'm done with it, but it's pretty pricey, so make sure you use it well."

He set the box down on the counter.

Just like every year, it was something he'd already used.

And just like every year, I said, "Thanks, Henry."

By the time I finished cleaning up the kitchen, it was already ten at night.

In the living room, the relatives were still chatting away.

I quietly slipped back to my room, the smallest one in the house. It faced north, so it was freezing and gloomy in winter.

I checked my phone and saw a message from Joanna Lane. [Did you finish dinner?]

I replied: [Just finished.]

Joanna: [Did your mom give you a hard time again?]

As I read her words, my nose started to tingle.

Joanna was my girlfriend. She was a teacher—quiet, but always so kind.

We'd been together for two years, and she never made me feel small like my mom and Henry always did.

She'd say, "Whatever you want to do, I've got your back."

This year, she wanted to spend Christmas Eve with my family, but I stopped her.

I was afraid Mom would give her a hard time.

Last month, I told Joanna I wanted to give Sanius a shot.

She paused for a bit, and then said, "I'll head over first and get work sorted. Whenever you come, I'll be there for you."

I burst into tears right away.

For the first time, someone made my worries their own.

I texted back: [I'm fine. I got the job offer. It's starting next week. How's everything on your end?]

Joanna replied: [The school's all set up. It's close to your office. I'll be waiting for you.]

Reading her message, I couldn't help but smile.

And before I knew it, my tears started dropping.

As soon as I sent a simple reply to Joanna, Mom's voice came from outside the door. "Cheney, come out and say goodbye to everyone."

I wiped away my tears and headed out.

By the time I saw all the relatives out, it was already eleven.

Henry had had a few drinks and was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Mom was checking the cash gift from Henry—three thousand bucks.

"Look at how generous Henry is," Mom said, shooting me a glare. "So, what did you prepare for me?"

I stood there. "I..."

What did I prepare?

Sixteen dishes, the spotless house, Mom's meds three times a day, and late-night care at any time for Mom.

But to her, none of that counted.

"Forget it," Mom said, waving her hand. "I know you don't have any money."

She stood up, pulled out two bills from the stack, and handed them to me. "Here's your Christmas gift. Twenty-six years old and still getting a Christmas gift? How embarrassing."

Two bills. One hundred bucks.

I took them. "Thanks, Mom."

"Go to bed," she said.

Mom turned to head to her room, and then paused. "Oh, and by the way, Henry's girlfriend's family is coming over tomorrow. Be sure to get up early and give the place another once-over.

"I'll buy the groceries, and you'll handle the meal."

"Okay," I replied.

Back in my room, I stared at the crisp one hundred bucks.

Truth was, that $3,000 wasn't really Henry's money.

Mom had gone to the bank for fresh bills, just so Henry could show off in front of the relatives.

Once that was done, she just tossed me two hundred bucks as a perfunctory gift.

I stuffed the money into the bottom of my drawer.

That was where I'd been keeping the so-called Christmas gifts for the past six years.

One hundred bucks each year. Now it came out to six hundred bucks.

The next morning at six, I got up and started tidying up the house.

Henry and Mom were still sleeping soundly.

At seven, Mom got up and started barking orders. "Put on the new sofa cover. That one makes the place look festive.

"Wipe the coffee table three times, okay?

"Toss out all the leftovers in the fridge. We can't let them think we eat leftovers."

While clearing out the leftovers, I caught sight of the plate of braised pork I'd spent three hours making yesterday. No one had touched it.

Henry complained it was too greasy, and Mom said it wasn't healthy.

I ended up tossing it all.