She Chose Him Over My Dying Mother

1: 1

Twenty below.

My mother came back from the grocery store, and with no code to get through the door, she stood outside alone all night.

I was away on a business trip, half sick with worry and anger, and I called my wife.

"We agreed you'd add my mother to the door code, didn't we?"

Her voice came thick with sleep and irritation.

"Oh, Malcolm's back. We grew up together, I can't have him locked out."

"The lock holds five faces, doesn't it? One more slot for my mother wouldn't get in anyone's way."

"It's already full. You and me, Malcolm and his two dogs. That's exactly five."

I settled for the next best thing.

"Then just delete one of the dogs."

Her voice shot up, sharp with displeasure.

"Malcolm and his dogs come as a set. If the dogs can't get in, he won't either."

Then came the beep of the line going dead in my ear.

Seven years of marriage, worth less than two dogs.

Then let it end here.

1

After my wife, Hope James, got pregnant, her morning sickness was severe.

Worried about her, I asked if she'd agree to have my mother come stay and take care of her.

She said yes to adding my mother to the door code. Instead she added her childhood friend Malcolm Delgado and his two dogs.

And left my mother standing outside a whole night in the freezing winter.

I booked the earliest flight home.

My hands and feet were ice cold the whole way, and I couldn't stop shaking.

When I saw my mother, her face was ghost white and her lips a dark blue.

"Mom, how are you feeling?"

"Gerard Pruitt, don't be scared, I'm fine. Don't let this hold up your work."

She was burning up all over, and still she pulled herself together to comfort me.

"Go home, don't carry any germs back to Hope, she's still pregnant."

My eyes went hot, and a dull ache spread through my chest.

I remembered when my mother first came, right after the wedding. Hope had cleaned the guest room three days ahead, bought a new mattress, new pillows.

"Mom, once you're here, you're in your own home. I'll take good care of you for Gerard's sake."

And now the same person who'd sworn to honor her had, with her own hands, locked her out at twenty below.

It took two days for my mother's fever to break, and in all that time Hope never called once.

On the third day, I brought my mother home.

Malcolm was lounging on the couch in my pajamas, watching a show.

Hope sat beside him, peeling an orange for him.

The nursery we'd set up had been turned into a full kennel.

Hearing us come in, Malcolm looked up and complained.

"Ma'am, I hate to say it, but he only asked you to buy some groceries, and you go and storm off in a sulk? Why the big temper?"

My eyes red, I stared hard at Hope.

"My mother stood outside all night. You didn't know that?"

"She called and you didn't pick up. She rang the bell and you didn't open. What was that?"

Malcolm curled his lip.

"Gerard, don't blame Hope."

"I just got back from overseas and I'm jet-lagged. She didn't want anything disturbing my rest, so she put her phone on silent for me."

My mother tugged at my sleeve, trying to smooth things over.

"Gerard, don't be angry. Hope's still pregnant, she can't get upset."

"I'm fine, really, it's nothing."

She'd frozen herself into pneumonia. The doctor said a little later and her life could have been in danger.

But her stepping back didn't buy her any understanding. It only fed the mockery.

"Ma'am, aren't you being a little delicate? You waited outside one night, that's all. Did you really have to put on a whole pity act and go to the hospital?"

"Hope and I used to get up before dawn in winter to run, in short sleeves, and we were fine."

"Right, Hope?"

From the moment we walked in, Hope hadn't said a word. Now she finally answered, siding with him openly.

"Such a small thing, and you have to turn the whole house upside down over it."

"I always said you shouldn't live with old people. If she couldn't get in, couldn't she just go to a hotel?"

"Making herself suffer for nothing, and now she comes and blames us."

I lifted my head and stared at Hope.

"Her ID was in the house. How was she supposed to check into a hotel?"

"Didn't it once cross your mind that my mother not coming back for days might mean something had happened to her?"

Malcolm's eyes went red.

"It's all my fault. Stop fighting, both of you. I'll just leave."

Hope pressed the neatly peeled orange into his hand.

"She's standing here just fine now, isn't she? What's all the drama about?"

She pulled Malcolm into the study and slammed the door.

A moment later, the two of them were laughing and chatting inside.

They'd grown up together.

Hope knew every one of Malcolm's likes.

Knew he couldn't stand bitter things, knew he had to hold something to sleep, knew he hated picking bones out of his fish.

All these years, every holiday, big or small, Hope would fly overseas to be with him.

At first I used to complain.

"Can't you be more reasonable? Malcolm and I have spent every holiday together since we were kids. How can I just abandon him because I married you?"

So from beginning to end, I was the outsider.

My mother stood there at a loss, then slipped into the messy kitchen.

She bent over the days' worth of pots and dishes and started washing.

"Mom, let me do it."

"No, no, you sit and rest. I'll wash them, it's fine."

She stayed bent over, scrubbing every bowl carefully.

And it hit me all at once.

My mother had gotten old.

Her hair had gone white.

The lines on her face had deepened.

Her hands weren't as quick as they used to be.

She was sixty-one this year.

The age when she should be at home, taking it easy.

Instead, for me, she'd traveled all this way to take care of Hope.

And here, she was treated like she was in the way.

"Mom, I'm sorry."

She froze, then reached up and wiped the corner of her eye.

"Silly boy, what are you apologizing for?"

"I'm fine. As long as you're doing well, I don't mind anything."

The tears came before I could stop them.

And all at once, the future felt like something I couldn't see my way through at all.