Chapter 3 — Forty-two Days of Confinement

"My mother sat next to me and cried for a while, saying her back couldn't bear it anymore. She had to run to the hospital every day, so her knees were in severe pain." I raised my glass and took a sip of water. "Then she said..." He paused, as if choosing his words. "She said she should let me come for a few days, let her rest a bit." "How do you answer?" He looked at the tea table. "I said go home and discuss with me." "No need to discuss. The answer is the same as the first day." "Lam Van..." "Tran Huc." I put the cup on the tea table. "Do you feel like I'm causing trouble for no reason?" "You no..." "I feel like the quarantine is over so you should let it go, you shouldn't hold on forever and not let go. I feel like my dad is really sick now, you should be more generous. I feel like your behavior makes me unable to talk to my mother." He didn't say anything, but his eyes moved slightly. I guessed everything right. "I asked you a question." I said. "If my father was in the hospital at that time, would you put aside your work to take care of him?" He opened his mouth. "I wouldn't." I answer for you. "Last time your mother came to our house, I didn't even take the initiative The train station picked her up." His face became unsightly. "That's not the same..." "Where's the difference?" Tell me, where is it different?" He stood up. "Lam Van, can you stop bringing up the past every time? Now I'm talking about my father, why are you bringing your father into this?" "Because the morals are the same." I still sat still, my voice very calm. "Your family matters, your family will solve it themselves. You're not my family's free caregiver." He looked at me, his lips moved but couldn't say anything. He turned around and went into the bedroom, When closing the door, use a little force. Not quite slamming the door, but close. I sat in the living room, drinking a glass of water. Twelfth day. Things suddenly took a different turn. After two o'clock in the afternoon, while I was massaging my baby, the phone rang. It's my mother. "Van Van, your mother-in-law called me just now." The movements on my hand stopped. "What did she say?" Mother's voice was a bit tense: "She told me how miserable she was, saying your father-in-law was in the hospital and you didn't come to take care of you. She said a bunch of things, like young people today I don't understand why family members have to help each other. Finally, tell your mother to advise you." I took a deep breath. "What did you say?" "Mom didn't say anything, just listened." Mom stopped. "But Van Van, I want to ask you a question." "Mom, tell me." "Are you really determined not to go?" "Yes." "Okay. So I support you." My nose suddenly stings. "Mom..." "Don't be polite to me. During the time I was in confinement, my mother was by my side from beginning to end. I understood the situation best. Whatever she did then, I saw it. Now I'm looking for my mother to ask for help? Mom is still there I haven't come to her to settle the account yet." I didn't say anything. "Van Van, you did the right thing. Mom just said one thing: take good care of yourself and the baby. Other things, whoever owes the child will pay it himself." After hanging up the phone, I sat on the counter in a daze for a while. The baby next to me tossed and turned, kicking his arms and legs around playing. Then the phone rang again. Tran Huc. "Lam Van, did you tell your mother to call and scold my mother?" I was stunned for a second. "What?" "My mother called me while crying, saying my mother called to scold her and said very bad things." It's hard to hear." "What did your mother say?" "What did you say 'your daughter-in-law is not your nanny', and then 'the debt during confinement hasn't been calculated yet'... Did you teach your mother to say those words behind her back?" I suddenly burst out laughing. "Tran Huc, it was my mother who called your mother to tell her suffering and beg first. My mother only answered what she should answer." "I..." "Do you think my mother is easy to bully?" I stood up. "Let me tell you, my mother is fifty-three years old, she raised me alone, and my father passed away early. The pain she endured in her life was more than his whole family combined. But she never bothered others. My mother came to you and wanted her to help advise you? You found the wrong person." He gasped on the other end of the line. "This thing is getting louder and louder." "It's my mother who's causing trouble, not you." "Lam Van!" His voice rose. "Can you..." "Tran Huc, listen carefully." I cut him off. "If your mother still calls my mother, I will post everything that happened during the quarantine period to your family group. I remember the date, the time, what each of you said and did. Not even a word forgot." The other end of the line was completely silent. "Think carefully about who is making things bigger and bigger." I hung up the phone. When I put my hand down, my hand shook a little. Not because of fear, but because of anger. At eight o'clock in the evening, Tran Huc came home. Earlier than usual. When he came in the door, I was breastfeeding the baby for the last time. The baby was lying in the crook of my arm, his eyes half-closed, sucking drowsily as if about to fall asleep. Tran Huc did not change his shoes, so he stood wearing leather shoes. at the mysterious gate. "Lam Van." His voice was different from usual. It was not a negotiation, nor was it I have to please, but it's like I've made a decision. "Wait for me to put the baby down." I said. He stood and waited. Five minutes later, the baby fell asleep. I put the baby in the crib and went out to the living room. Tran Huc sat on the sofa, his hands on his knees, leaning down to look at the floor. "I talked to my mother today." "Yes."