Chapter 8 — My Wife Is Not An Outsider

My father came in from the balcony and sat down. Luc An An poked his head out of the room, looked for a moment, then slowly walked out and sat down. My mother did not move.

“Mom, let's eat together.”

“Don't eat.”

“It's up to you.” I sat down, picked up my chopsticks: "On Duong, eat."

On Duong sat next to me, hesitated for a moment, picked up a chopstick of food. Halfway through eating, my mother got up from the sofa and went straight to the bedroom. The door closes gently. This meal, four people eat. Quietly and soundlessly. The next day, still the same. Day three. Day four. My mother doesn't cook, doesn't eat, and doesn't leave the bedroom. I do not advise. Every day, call for delivery on time or go to the kitchen with On Duong to cook. Wen Duong's cooking skills are not bad. He makes a few family dishes that taste just as good as my mother's. On the fifth day, my mother left the room. Not for eating. It's for making phone calls. She stood on the balcony, thinking I couldn't hear her. But the soundproofing of the windows was poor, so I sat on the living room sofa and couldn't hear a word.

"Sister, look, what kind of trouble have I caused... my son defends outsiders and turns them on to harass me... he is a child from another place, what right does he have to point fingers in this house..."

"You have to tell Tu Chu for me, he listens to me..."

"That's right, that's right, I told Mr. Kien Quoc to advise him... if a man doesn't take care of the house, this house will be ruined..."

Hang up and call again. This time call my third uncle.

"Third uncle, your nephew is fully grown, and because of a daughter-in-law, he wants to break up with you..."

The more content is transmitted, the more likely it is to lose copies. I sat on the sofa, crossed my legs, scrolling through the food ordering menu on my phone. No rush. What will come will come. Sure enough, on Friday night, the phone call came. Auntie's call came first.

"Tu Chu, your mother has been crying for the past few days. Can't you bear with her for a bit? Your mother is a superior, losing face is unbearable, a young man like you should be more generous..."

“Uncle,” I leaned back against the balcony railing: “I want to ask you a question.”

“Tell me.”

"If your uncle's family forced you to eat leftover rice and soup every day, and didn't give you a place to sit on the tray for half a year, would you be able to endure it?"

The other end of the line was silent for three seconds.

“So… that's a different situation…”

“What's different?”

“My mother didn't do it on purpose, she just…”

“Just what?” My voice was very calm: "I have a video. Three sets of bowls and chopsticks, seven dishes. When Wen Duong came home at 7:30, there were only two bowls of leftovers left on the stove. Every day, for half a year. Auntie, do you want to watch?"

“This…”

"Also, the ingredients On Duong bought with his own money every month, my mother used them to cook, and after cooking, left some residue for her. Using the herbs she bought herself to cook, but not letting her eat. Auntie, what do you call that?"

The breathing on the other end of the line became heavier.

"I'm not an ungrateful person." I said, “I just ask my mother to consider my wife as a human being.”

Hang up the phone. Third uncle's phone followed shortly after.

“Tu Chu…”

"Third uncle, just one sentence. Half of what my mother told you is a lie. I can get the video and the statement to show you the actual situation. If you want to see the time, I'll send it."

The third uncle was silent for five seconds.

“…That's it, I won't interfere in your family matters. You'll solve them yourself Go."

Hang up the phone. Very high performance. On Saturday, no one called anymore. My mother sat outside in the living room, her fingers crumpling a piece of tissue paper. Her eyes were swollen like peaches, her voice was hoarse — she cried too much last week. She looked at me, her lips moving.

"Tu Chu, are you sure to force your mother to kneel down and apologize to him?"