Chapter 13 — Forty-two Days of Confinement

The title read: "Invitation to serve as a judge for this year's City Emerging Design Power poll." I looked at the text on the screen. I locked the screen and put the phone on the bedside table. Continue counting tomorrow. One year later. Lam Gian Design moved to a new office. Area of one hundred and twenty square meters, ground-level glass doors facing south, sunlight can cover the entire wall. The team had eleven people. The business extends from brand design to spatial and visual imagery Integrated online marketing. Revenue exceeded three million yuan for the first time. That afternoon, I had just finished a meeting with a new client in the office. After seeing them off, I sat back in my chair. On the table is a photo of the baby at one and a half years old. The child stood on the living-room floor, holding a toy in both hands, smiling at the camera. The phone rang. It's my mother. "Van Van, I have something to discuss with you." "Go ahead." "I've received the money you sent home. But I sent too much, I can't spend it all..." "Don't care too much, Mom. Buy whatever you need. If you want to travel, just go." "I don't want to go anywhere..." "Then save it. If you want to go later, go." She smiled on the other end of the phone. "I'm just... happy. Your daughter has a future." My nose stings again. "Mom, wait until I'm done with this, then I'll take her home to visit you." "Okay, okay. Mom made delicious food for you and me." Hanging up the phone, I sat on the chair in a daze for a moment. A year ago when I was in confinement, my mother squeezed onto the folding bed in my small living room, waking up every day at four or five o'clock in the morning. cooked soup. On the day she returned, she stood at the entrance to the train station, waved at me, saying: "Go home, go home, don't send me off anymore." I didn't see if she cried or not after turning her back. But then I saw a note on the nightstand in her room, written by herself. Above is written: "The first day of Van Van's confinement. The second day of Van Van's confinement. The third day of Van Van's confinement..." Write up to the forty-second day. After each day, write down one or two sentences: "The baby cried all night today." "Van Van's surgery wound hurts today." "Cooking soup today Pork leg stewed with peanuts." "Changed the bed sheet three times today." On the last day, write: "Van Van and the baby are both healthy. Mom can rest assured." That day, after reading it, I sat in her room for a long time. Now I was in a position to care for her in return. It was my turn. Another two years have passed. The baby is three and a half years old, starting kindergarten. Every morning Tran Huc takes his child away, and in the afternoon the maid picks him up. Lam Gian Design has stood firmly in the local design world. There are more than ten long-term cooperation customers. Last year, he also won the provincial gold medal for brand design. On the award ceremony day, below the stage were To Vi, A Kha and my mother. Mom sat in the third row, holding her phone high to record a video. When I held the trophy on stage, I saw her smiling. Laughing for a moment, she used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. After receiving the award, she walked down, holding my hand tightly. "Your daughter really has a future." "Mom..." "If your father was still alive, he would definitely be happier than me." I gave her a hug. "Let's go, I'll take you out for a delicious meal." As for the mother-in-law... Can't say it's important. The relationship is very close, but it's not the same as before. Now she comes home to visit the baby once a week. Come take your children for a walk in the residential area and buy them ice cream. When they returned, both their faces were dirty. She no longer says "I'm free". No more telling me who to serve. No more calling relatives to tell the story. Sometimes she posts photos of her baby in the family group, writing: "My grandson." And Tran Tuyet. After that, she quit her job at Thanh Mieu and opened her own small company, doing marketing planning for businesses mother and baby sign. Occasionally she sends me a message asking if I can introduce her client's design needs to her. I introduce two small projects. Not forgiveness. It's just that everyone went their own way. One time at a family gathering, she walked over holding a glass of juice and said, "Sister-in-law, you are the toughest person I've ever met." I raised my glass to her. "You're not bad. You can fix it." She smiled. On the way home that day, Tran Huc was driving. Baby sleeps in a safety seat in the back row afterward, the little head tilted to one side, drool running down his chin. Tran Huc looked at the rearview mirror. "Sleeping." "Yes." "Van Van." "Yes." "Thank you for not getting divorced that year." I turned my head to look at him. He looked straight ahead at the driver's side, his profile illuminated by the streetlights at different times of light and darkness. I didn't ask thanks for anything. Not saying no need to thank you. I looked at the scenery outside the window for a while. The city lights receded behind us as we drove. Those forty-two days of confinement had taught me to grit my teeth and endure. There were nights when I was alone at home holding my baby, receiving design revision orders until dawn. The first job cost three thousand yuan. Then two hundred and twenty thousand. Then eight hundred and fifty thousand. Until now. No step is easy. But every step is taken by myself. The baby in the back seat stirred and called out sleepily, "Mom."