After Serving My Parents One Plate of Vegetables, She Went Mad Regretting

My parents traveled a long way from our hometown to see me, so I made a point of asking the housekeeper to cook a few extra dishes. Instead she fried up a single plate of greens.

I stared, baffled. Violet, why is there only one dish?

She rolled her eyes at me.

Mr. Henson's away on business tonight, he won't be home for dinner. Your parents are country folk. They should count themselves lucky to have greens at all.

"With the man of the house gone, you ought to economize. Don't go dragging people home to eat and drink on us whenever you please. You don't have the first idea how to run a household."

Watching her stand there like she owned the place, I laughed.

She'd been a housekeeper in the Henson home for ten years. Did that make her my mother-in-law?

"Hurry up and eat, then go home. And don't come around again if there's no reason. Who knows how many germs you dragged in from the countryside."

"Once you're gone I'll have to disinfect the whole house. What a nuisance!"

The housekeeper, Violet Finch, went on and on.

As though she truly were the lady of this house.

And my parents were nothing but filthy freeloaders in her eyes.

My mother twisted the cloth bag in her hands, awkward, and set a little sack of farm-fresh eggs down on the entryway cabinet, glancing at me with great care.

"Monica Pruitt, your father and I just thought, with you carrying the baby, we'd bring you some farm eggs to build your strength back up."

"We won't stay for the meal. We don't want to be any trouble to you."

My father nodded along, his face full of embarrassment, as if they really had done something wrong.

Seeing them so ill at ease, something in my chest ached.

I was three months along. The morning sickness had been bad, and I'd stayed weak the whole time. When my parents heard, they rode eighteen hours on a slow train just to see me.

The whole way, they scrimped on food and drink, only wanting to reach me sooner, to bring me some farm eggs to build me back up.

It broke my heart. I wanted to give them a good meal.

So before I left to pick them up at the station, I'd handed Violet two hundred dollars and told her over and over to buy some good food and have it ready.

But when I brought my parents home, all that greeted them was a plate of greens gone cold, and Violet's insults and her shoving them toward the door.

The thought of it, and the anger I'd been holding down finally broke loose.

"Violet, get this straight. You're a housekeeper my husband pays for. Your job in this house is to cook the meals and keep the place clean."

"What our family eats, how we spend our money, that's our business. It's not your place to point fingers and lecture me on the rules."

Violet planted her hands on her hips, chin high.

"I'm doing this for your own good!"

"What decent woman gorges herself in comfort the minute her husband's away on a trip?"

"A pregnant woman who doesn't work ought to be careful with money in the first place. But not you. You go and drag two country bumpkins home for a feast. Do you think the Henson money falls out of the sky? If I weren't watching over things, you'd have squandered this whole family dry by now."

Hearing that, it all came clear to me.

No wonder that before, when I'd wanted imported gourmet fruit and asked Violet to buy one, she'd dragged her feet and never did. She'd talked me out of it, too.

"That stuff's too rich, it's bad for the baby."

"And it's so expensive, two, three hundred apiece, gone in a few bites. Pure waste of money."

I'd thought she was looking out for me, so I let it go at the time.

Later, when I bought a few maternity outfits, she saw them and kept sighing and muttering.

"Young people these days, they just don't know how to make do. A few hundred dollars for a piece of clothing you'll only wear a few months."

"In our day, we patched one pair of pants and wore them ten years."

Back then I thought she was simply used to pinching pennies, old-fashioned in her thinking.

But now I understood. It wasn't thrift.

She thought of herself as the mistress of this house.

The way she saw it, everything in this home was hers.

Everyone but Fred Henson had to answer to her.

Me included.

I looked at Violet and said coldly:

"Violet, the money in this house isn't yours."

"So do me a favor and stop being so possessive over other people's money."

Violet frowned at once, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm only keeping an eye on things for Mr. Henson."

"Mr. Henson's too soft. He hands every last dollar straight to you. If I don't watch it, what happens when you've squandered his whole fortune?"

I laughed.

"First of all, who manages the money in this house is between me and my husband. It's not your place to point fingers."

"Second, on whose authority are you keeping an eye on things for my husband?"

"Are you his mother?"

"Or his boss?"

Violet glared at me, beside herself.

"I've worked in the Henson house for ten years. Everything in this house is mine to manage!"

"How many years have you even been married in? What do you know about running a home?"

I was about to answer when my mother tugged at my sleeve, anxious.

"Let it go, Monica. Your father and I will head back now. Don't fight with anyone over us."

My father nodded too. "That's right. You're pregnant now, you have to be careful. Don't let this upset the baby."

The two of them looked so afraid of causing me trouble that they turned and walked straight out.

The moment my parents left, a smug smile spread across Violet's face.

I had no time to waste on her. I turned and hurried out after my parents.

"Mom, Dad, let me take you out to eat."

My mother hesitated.

"If you take us out, that's more money spent. What if your housekeeper starts on you again?"

"Don't worry about her."

I drove my parents to a restaurant nearby and ordered a whole table of the dishes they loved.

The moment the food came out, they fell on it, eating fast and hungry.

They were starving. A full day and night on the train, and they hadn't let themselves spend a cent on a hot meal.

Halfway through, Fred Henson called.

"Honey, did you pick up your parents?"

Fred had known for a while that my parents were coming to the city to see me.

He'd told me again and again to treat them well and make sure they wanted for nothing.

Watching the two of them with their heads down over the food, I answered with a quiet "Mm" and said nothing more.

Fred seemed to sense something was off and asked at once:

"What is it? You don't sound right."

"Did something happen?"

My nose stung.

I told Fred everything Violet had done today, start to finish.

When he'd heard it all, Fred went quiet for several seconds, his voice colder than I'd ever heard it.

"Honey, don't be angry. I'll deal with this when I get home."

Fred didn't say much more.

But I could hear it. He was furious.

After I hung up, my mother looked at me with worry.

"Monica, is Fred angry?"

My father was uneasy too.

"That boy has always thought more of you than of his own life. He won't do anything rash, will he?"

I knew what they were afraid of.

Fred looked mild and gracious most of the time, courteous to everyone, but underneath it he had a ruthless streak when it came to protecting his own.

Especially with me. He couldn't stand to see me wronged in the slightest.

Last year a business partner had too much to drink at a dinner, pointed at me, and said offhandedly:

"Is this one at Mr. Henson's side just for decoration? Pretty enough, I'll give her that."

Over that one sentence, that partner's company, worth hundreds of millions, was declared bankrupt overnight.

Someone urged Fred not to go so far over a single remark.

He only said one thing. "He crossed my line."

After that, no one ever dared say a single word against me in front of me again.

Faced with my parents' worry, I gave a small smile.

"It's fine. He knows where the line is."

To keep Violet from making my parents sick to their stomachs any longer, after the meal I booked them a hotel nearby and settled them in.

Once my parents were settled, I went home.

The moment I stepped through the door, I froze completely.

The living room was blazing with light, the dining table crowded with dishes.

Steamed sea bass, braised pork ribs, poached jumbo shrimp, rich chicken soup.

Every dish I'd told Violet to buy so we could welcome my parents was sitting right there on the table, not one of them missing.

And in the seat of honor at the head, Violet's daughter Mary Fox sat wearing my silk robe, tearing into that spread like she owned it.

Fred had ordered that robe for me last year at Paris Fashion Week, a limited run of three in the entire world, and I'd never even brought myself to wear it.

Now it was on Mary, smeared with grease.

Violet was still carrying more dishes to the table.

"Mary, hurry, try this tonic broth. Mr. Henson paid a fortune for it to build Monica's strength back up. I could never bring myself to make it on a normal day."

"You've been working so hard lately with all the overtime. Eat up, get your strength back."

The words were barely out of her mouth when Violet looked up on instinct, toward the doorway.

She saw me, and the doting smile froze on her face.

I stepped forward, looking at Mary, and kept my voice low.

"Who told you to put on my clothes?"

"And all these dishes, what's going on here?"

Mary didn't even stop chewing. "My mom said she bought a whole load of food, more than you could finish, so she called me over to eat it," she said, careless as anything.

"I took a shower while I was at it, then went through your closet and picked out something to wear. You've got so many clothes, you won't mind, right?"

My chest went tight with fury. I couldn't help turning on Violet.

"Violet, I gave you money for groceries so you could take proper care of my parents."

"And instead you make my parents one plate of steamed greens, and cook every other dish for your daughter alone?"

"This is your idea of thrift, of looking out for the Henson family?"

Violet answered without a shred of shame. "Those two country bumpkins of parents you've got, what would they know about fine food, good or bad? Serving them a spread like this, isn't that just waste?"

"Your parents left anyway. If nobody eats this it all goes to waste. My daughter's been working hard lately, so what's the harm in me building her strength back up?"

What twisted logic.

"So making it all for your daughter, that's not waste?"

Violet's voice shot up. "Mary is my daughter. She's family!"

"If you hadn't come out of nowhere and shoved your way in, Mary might've married Mr. Henson long ago and been the lady of this house!"

The words stopped me cold.

"So you've been quietly fighting me, working against me all this time, because you think I stole your daughter's place?"

Violet dropped the act entirely. "That's right."

"I've looked after Mr. Henson for ten years, and my daughter has known him just as long. If you hadn't shown up out of nowhere and stolen his heart away, the two of them would've been together already."

"Everything you've eaten, used, and lived in at the Henson house all these years belongs to my daughter!"

She'd truly lost her mind.

"Violet, get one thing straight. You are nothing but a housekeeper my husband pays to do a job."

"And your daughter has nothing to do with my husband, none at all."

"You and your daughter sitting here eating my food, wearing my clothes, that is against the law!"

Violet frowned, her whole face soured. "Don't stand there trying to scare people. This is Mr. Henson's home, and my daughter and I are both part of the Henson family."

"We use a few of the family's things, so what?"

She was beyond saving.

I couldn't be bothered wasting another word on Violet. I just pulled out my phone.

"Fine. Then let the police decide whether you two are family of the Hensons or thieves in the Henson house."

With that, I hit the call button, ready to report them.

Violet's face changed. Panic flooded in at once.

"She can't call the police."

"Mary, stop her, quick!"

And with that, the two of them, mother and daughter, threw themselves at me like they'd gone mad.

Mary grabbed at the phone in my hand and wrenched, while Violet clamped down on my wrist and dragged with all her strength.

The three of us twisted into one tangle, and the force of it knocked me off balance.

Bang! I crashed hard to the floor, my belly slamming into the corner of the table, and a stab of pain tore through me all at once.

The next moment, warm blood was sliding slowly down my thigh.

"My baby, my baby"

The pain tore through me. I clamped both hands over my belly, my voice shaking.

"Call 911, hurry, get an ambulance!"

"Please, save my baby..."

Mary froze at that.

She looked at the blood pooling beneath me.

Then at the phone she'd just wrenched out of my hands.

Without thinking, she started to dial for help.

But Violet snatched the phone away and hurled it hard against the floor.

"No calls."

"Mr. Henson can't find out about this."

Violet's face had gone white, but there was something wild flickering in her eyes.

Mary went rigid, at a loss.

"Mom, she's bleeding. If we don't get her to a hospital, something's going to happen."

"This is the baby Mr. Henson treasures more than anything. If something happens to it because of us, we're finished!"

Violet's expression turned grave.

"That's exactly why Mr. Henson can't find out."

She was breathing hard, studying me where I lay on the floor, her mind racing.

"If we take her to a hospital now, the doctors ask questions, and everyone knows we pushed her down."

"Then the two of us are done for, for the rest of our lives."

Mary heard that and grew afraid too.

"Then... then what do we do?"

Violet checked the time, drew in two deep breaths, and forced herself calm.

"Mr. Henson's still away on business anyway. He won't be back for a while."

"For now we lock Monica in the maid's room. Bolt the doors and windows. Don't let anyone know about this."

"When Mr. Henson gets back, we'll say Monica couldn't keep still. That she went out fooling around while he was gone and lost the baby herself."

"The two of them will fall out for sure, and that's when you step into the gap. You take Monica's place, exactly as we planned!"

"Mary, isn't this the day we've waited all these years for?"

Hearing Violet's plan, Mary's eyes lit up. She was clearly tempted.

I was in a full panic now.

The pain in my belly kept sharpening. If I didn't get to a hospital, my baby was gone for good.

I gathered every ounce of strength I had and said to Violet, word by word:

"Violet, don't do this."

"I promise, if you take me to the hospital right now, I'll let the whole thing go."

"But if you blow this up and someone dies, then you and your daughter really are finished for life!"

Violet stared down at me, gritting her teeth, her voice vicious.

"Don't try to scare me."

"Ten years I've been in this house. You think there's a storm I haven't seen?"

"And don't blame me for it. Only if the baby in your belly dies does my daughter get her chance to take your place!"

She turned to Mary and said coldly:

"What are you standing there for? Come help me drag her into the maid's room!"

Mary hesitated a moment, then clenched her jaw and came toward me, one step at a time.

Just as they reached out to grab hold of me, Fred's grim voice came from the doorway.

"What are you doing?"